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sinfulspencer · 2 years

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The Black Dahlia (pt.3)

Prompt: Reunited, Spencer and Reader share secrets. (this chapter is all smut, so please make sure to read the warnings)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Reader, Sub!Spencer, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, degradation, ownership, oral sex (female and male receiving), blood kink, knife kink, unprotected sex; mention of past child sexual and physical abuse

Words: 8.8 k

A.N.: Reminder: Reader is a serial killer. There’s nothing romantic in what she’s doing, so please, do not romanticize her character or defend her from her actions. She needs to be held accountable for her manipulative and murderous behaviour, end of the story. Keep in mind that this is a fanfiction: I do not condone the actions of the characters, nor I support them – and I certainly do not encourage such actions.

Stay safe! x

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Spencer Reid is a man of science.

Because of that, he has always thought about love as something medical, biological, chemical.

Something that can be explained through formulas or hormones, both of them scientifically proven. There’s no such thing as love as something else, because Spencer has never felt anything like this before.

Obviously, Spencer is trying to wrap his brain around this new sensation that can’t seem to let him go. A sensation that makes him feel warm inside, that makes his mind hazy and his lips always twitch into a smile at the mention of your name – a smile that he has to pretend is nervous, bitter, scared.

Romantic love, the kind of love Spencer thinks he’s feeling right now, can be broken down into three categories: lust, attraction and attachment. Every category is characterized by its own set of hormones, stemming from the brain.

Lust is driven by the desire for sexual gratification, which refers to the need to reproduce and contribute to the perpetuation of the species. Spencer knows that this category is all about testosterone and estrogen, produced by testes and ovaries – he can feel the rush of testosterone right now, with his hands on your hips.

Attraction is different: Spencer can lust for other humans, but he’s not always attracted to them. Attraction involves the brain pathways that control ‘reward’ behaviour, which explains why the first weeks of a relationship – can Spencer consider this a relationship? – are exhilarating and extremely consuming.

Dopamine is one of the players in the brain’s reward pathway: it’s released when Spencer does something that feels good to him, like right now. He’s kissing your neck and hearing the soft moans coming out of your lips. He knows you’re feeling good and he feels even better, knowing that he’s doing something nice.

Norepinephrine is released with dopamine during attraction: they’re the chemicals that make Spencer feel giddy, energetic, euphoric and lead him to forget his tiredness because they decrease appetite and insomnia. It’s all new to him, because he didn’t think it’d be possible to feel something like this for someone.

Then, there’s attachment.

It’s the predominant factor in long-term relationships.

While lust and attraction aren’t exclusive to romantic entanglements, attachment explains parent-infant bonding and friendships. The hormones that control this category are oxytocin and vasopressin: oxytocin, the cuddle hormone, is released in quantities during sex, breastfeeding and childbirth. They’re all precursors to bonding.

Spencer has this perfectly painted image of love as something that can never go bad. He has the examples of his colleagues in happy relationships, all out in the field with their loved one, while he has to keep whatever there is between you and him a secret.

Spencer Reid is a man of science.

But you are a psychopath, a serial killer who uses people to your own advantage.

Psychopaths still form romantic relationships, but they may not be based on psychological intimacy – in the traditional sense of the word. Instead, these relationships are similar to Bonnie and Clyde – it’s obvious you and Spencer are in this situation, because you bonded over a destructive behaviour. Your lack of empathy and Spencer’s struggles in expressing deep emotions are the lead of your relationship.

You don’t need to talk to Spencer, he doesn’t need to tell you how he’s feeling.

You both focus on the moment, on having each other, on proving to the other that you’re as loyal as you can be. However, something is slowly changing.

There’s a theory in psychology where subjects diagnosed with psychopathy can slowly be changed by the power of love. Spencer is a firm believer of that, because he can feel the way you’re becoming less violent, less frustrating to be with – and you’re opening up to him, allowing Spencer to take a look into your past.

Why would you ask him to kill your Uncle without knowing the reason why?

You allowed Spencer to find out. You let him listen to your conversation with your father.

Both these situations meant trust. You didn’t say it out loud, but it was obvious.

Spencer felt special.

“I was waiting for you.”

Your hands roam all over his chest, leaving red marks in their wake. “I know, Bee. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“No, don’t apologize.” – Spencer whispers, grabbing both your hands – “Never apologize. All it matters is that you’re here with me now. You’re back.”

The sensation of his fingers tightening around your wrists shakes you from the insides. You can feel a cold, crippling chokehold around your neck as you wiggle out of his grip. When Spencer arrested you, you felt the same exact thing: a cold chokehold around your neck while he was blocking your hands.

Immediately, you pull out your knife from your thigh holster and you lift it up, bringing it right below his chin and over his throat. You don’t want to play tonight and no matter how excited Spencer is to see you, you’re not going to let your walls crumble down.

You did once and it ruined your life.

Now... It’s a game, but you’re going to play it by your own rules.

Spencer lifts both his hands when he sees the sharp knife. “What are you doing?”

He’s in distress, but he doesn’t let it show. However, the vein in his neck is betraying him.

You stay quiet, brushing the tip of your finger on the edge. “I just need to make sure you won’t do anything stupid like the last time, Bee. Do you remember what you did?”

Spencer gulps at your words, lowering his eyes on the sharp tool still in your hands. Of course he remembers, he still regrets ratting you out to his team, but he can’t say it now – he needs to find a way to apologize to you, before you can think that this is boring you. No matter how excited Spencer is to see you and hold you right now, he has to be careful – one event can trigger you and push you to kill him.

Would you kill him, though?

“I won’t. I’ve missed you a lot, Daisy.” – Spencer whispers, closing his eyes when the tip of the knife caresses his throat – “I couldn’t stop thinking about you and dreaming of you.”

“I know, Bee. You’ve kept all of my flowers, I saw them.” – you say with a joyful tone – “You’re such a sweet Bee. I can’t believe you’ve changed so much since you arrested me. Did you regret what you did? Is that why you kept all of my flowers? Because you regret arresting me?”

Spencer knows that the tone you’re using is completely different from what you’re feeling right now. You have this anger flaring from each word, rage rolling off your tongue and seeping into his skin at a quick pace.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to come out of his apartment alive after you’re done with him, but he doesn’t care. He’s going to take everything you’re willing to give him and it’ll be satisfying enough for him. Spencer needs you to know that you’re more than enough for him.

“Yes. I’m sorry I betrayed you, Daisy.” – he whispers, licking his bottom lip – “I’d do anything to take it back.”

You coo, leaning forward and pressing the tip of the blade against his throat. He’s admitting that he betrayed you, that he ratted you out - you know he didn’t want to do it, you could feel the pain in his voice when he told you to get out of the car after making love to you, but he couldn’t stop.

Just like right now, you can’t stop pressing the blade into the soft skin of his throat. The sight of blood when the skin breaks under the cold metal is too enchanting, too exciting. A rush of adrenaline pumps through you, as you bring the knife up to your lips and lick the blood off it. The metallic scent diffuses in your mouth as you smile, taking a step back.

“You taste delicious, Bee.”

Spencer doesn’t move, he even holds his breath again.

His back is attached to the wall behind him, but his eyes are wide open now. His chest is heaving, his lips are twitched into a wicked smirk – and the sight turns you on more than ever.

“You liked that, didn’t you Bee?” – you ask with a smile, giggling while pointing the knife at him – “You like knowing I can easily kill you, don’t you?”

He doesn’t.

Or maybe he does.

His body is confusing him right now.

His brain is completely empty, if not for the images running through his brain of you licking his own blood off the blade. Blood that could easily be spilled profusely if you just want it.

You frown when Spencer doesn’t answer.

You have missed the sound of his voice in prison more than you could think. You became obsessed with the need to hear him talk to you, directly to you - you’ve heard him speak to his colleagues a bunch of times, especially when you learned that he was watching you during your interrogations.

You remembered what you did inside the interrogation room at your father’s prison, how he got on his knees so quickly and brought his pretty mouth between your legs. He lets you forget everything in the blink of an eye, giving you an amount of pleasure that has always settled between your legs each time you thought about it.

Spencer Reid has driven you crazy.

“Where are your words, Bee? You know I crave to hear your voice, let me hear it.” - you whisper, cutting into the soft material of his shirt and tearing it apart - “Or are you too dumb to speak, Bee? Are you so eager to have me, to feel me all over you that you can’t even get your words out?”

Spencer moans at your implication.

He’s not stupid, he’s just overwhelmed by your presence and your touch all over him, by the cold tip of the blade cutting his shirt and bareing his body to you and your lust. Your eyes are burning with the flame of desire and your lips, constantly twitching into that wicked smile he has learned to love, are what he desires the most right now.

“Daisy…”

“Tell me, Bee. How did it feel to kill Robert?”

Spencer lifts his eyes, meeting yours.

He knows what you’re trying to do, he knows how your body is reacting and he can feel your warmth getting stronger, more intoxicating than before - and he hasn’t even answered yet. But his desire is tightening behind his belly button, already exploding through his body.

“I felt good.” - Spencer whispers, keeping his hands wide open - “Killing a man that was a useless piece of shit felt incredibly good.”

You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss on his chin. “I know, Bee. It’s incredible how it gives you such a rush that can’t be compared to anything else.”

It’s not the right moment to think about Robert and all the things he might have done to you when you were just a child, so Spencer focuses on how the blade in your hands is breaking another cut over the soft skin of his throat.

This time, with more force.

And more blood comes out, dripping down the blade and his own skin.

“Daisy... please.”

You lean against his body, tracing with the tip of your tongue the same path the blade took. Spencer hisses at the sensation, a tingling rush spreads through his lower body, and he arches his back – almost as if he’s loving what you’re doing.

He does.

“What, Bee? What do you want from me?”

Spencer has never been attracted to knives or the feeling of them dancing on his skin, but you keep pushing his limits and showing him that there’s nothing wrong in enjoying such destructive actions. There’s nothing wrong in liking the idea of you cutting his skin and licking his blood – there’s nothing wrong in bonding with you over this.

“I want to bleed for you.”

You look at him, almost dropping the knife down. “Fuck, Spencer. You surprise me every time.”

Spencer is becoming a thrill-seeker and it’s all because of you, but he wouldn’t change a thing. He can see his answer has gotten a reaction out of you, because you’re squeezing your thighs and biting your bottom lip. Your eyes haven’t let him yet and the grip of your knife is tighter than before, still caressing the smooth skin of his lower abdomen.

Spencer looks down, gently placing his hand on top of your wrist. “Let me bleed for you. Let me prove to you that I’d risk it all for you, Daisy.”

You don’t know if he’s doing all of this out of guilt, but you’re not going to dismiss the opportunity to drink in his devotion for you. This is what you were craving, this is what you were seeking when you escaped that Hell-hole he called ‘prison’.

Psychopaths don’t feel chemical love, you know it. Spencer knows it.

You don’t feel any warmth inside of you when you see Spencer. You don’t feel empathy, but you’re loyal to him. You promised to take care of him and that’s what you’re going to do for the rest of your life, because he proved himself worthy of you and your time.

Despite the hiccup of nine months ago.

Your left hand covers his mouth, silencing him through his pleas and whines. For a man who acts like a bad-ass, Spencer begs beautifully – and who are you to deny him such pleasure, if he wants it so bad? Who are you to stop you from getting what you crave?

“Is this what you want, Bee? Do you want me to hurt you?”

Spencer keeps his hands high, nodding and muttering a simple ‘yes’ against your palm. He knows you’re not going to kill him, but you’re going to hurt him just enough for him to reach that peak of pleasure he has been waiting his whole life for. A pleasure that only you can provide, because it’s a pain you will share with him.

And that’s the most special act you could give him.

“You’re my most precious possession, Spencer.”

His name rolls off your tongue as if it was made for you to say it, as if he has always belonged to you – even when he didn’t know who you were, even before he could think about finding a person to share something so intimate, so delicate such as his body, or his blood.

He never thought he’d ask somebody to bleed for them.

When the blade of your knife breaks the skin of his abdomen, Spencer releases a long moan. His eyes burn with desire as he arches his back, pressing his skin into your blade already covered in droplets of blood.

The same blood staining your skin.

“Does that feel good, Bee?”

Spencer can barely breathe as he comes back down to Earth, with his eyes settled on your face and expressing everything he can’t say out loud. His whole body feels like it’s on fire and the more you press the knife into his skin, the more sounds of pleasure come out of his lips.

“You taste so fucking good, do you know that?” – you lean forward, following your blade and collecting his blood on the tip of your tongue – “My sweet, innocent Bee. I can’t believe you’re mine all over again.”

Spencer uses his right hand to grab your knife, stealing it from your grip in a moment of weakness. When he points it at you, with that twinkle in his eyes, you stumble back with a smirk on your lips – seeing him like this, with those dark smile on his lips and heaving chest, drives you fucking crazy.

Love doesn’t mean anything for a psychopath, but devotion means everything.

Turning the knife back to his own body, Spencer drags the blade from his sternum down to his belly button. His eyes never leave yours as the blood spills out from the shallow cut. The bright red liquid drips down his skin; the sight turns you on more than it should, but you don’t care.

Spencer Reid is bleeding for you, he’s giving you what you’ve been asking him since you begged him to run away with you – and now that he’s ready to be with you, protect you, you need to thank him. You want to prove to him that you’re as thankful as he is to you for being with you.

The metallic scent immediately catches your attention, forcing you to get down on your knees for him.

“I belong to you, Daisy.” – Spencer whimpers, panting hard with the knife slipping down from his hand and falling onto the floor – “I’m bleeding for you. This is all for you.”

“How did I get so fucking lucky, hm?” – you ask, quickly unbuckling his trousers and pushing them down – “Why haven’t I found you earlier, Bee? We could’ve been together through all these years.”

Spencer doesn’t even know what you’re saying, too lost in the warmth of your fingers playing with the blood dripping down his skin and his briefs. He’s so aroused and painfully hard in your left hand, the pre-cum is smeared all over the head of his cock – and if he doesn’t feel your mouth on him quickly, he’ll pass out.

“You drive me crazy, Spencer Reid.” – you whisper his name as his eyes fall down on your face – “That’s right, look at me while I take care of you, while I prove to you how devoted I am to you.”

Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you press a kiss over the head and swirl your tongue all around it. Your eyes never leave Spencer’s honey-coloured ones, watching him carefully and smiling softly when he throws his head back. You know you’re driving him crazy, you know he’s holding back – but you don’t want him to.

You’re taking care of him, he’s allowed to touch you if he wants.

“Fuck my face, Bee. Give me everything you want.”

Those words shake Spencer from the inside, but he doesn’t reject your words. He knows you’re on your knees to make him feel good, but he can’t help and think about the fact that you have a knife by your side.

The fear and the desire are battling inside of him: if he gives in to your demand, will you hurt him? If he doesn’t give in, will you hurt him?

Spencer pushes those thoughts out of his mind and focuses on the immense pleasure your mouth brings him, rolling his hips forward so that his cock hits the back of your throat. He lets out a whine, entangling his fingers through his hair to tug on it.

You gag around his cock, struggling to keep your eyes on his face. Spencer is fucking your mouth, your face – and there’s nothing better than this, than manipulating a man into giving you exactly what you want and allowing him to take pleasure out of it.

You’re not sure if he’s going to last long, but it doesn’t matter – bringing him pleasure is a way of thanking him for what he has done.

“You feel so good, Daisy. So fucking good.” Spencer whispers

His voice is broken.

You breathe through your nose, moaning and choking around his cock each time Spencer pulls back. Thrusting in and out of your mouth at a quick pace, you can feel Spencer’s body stiffen – he’s going to come soon if you don’t stop him, but then again, you don’t want him to stop.

He needs to enjoy everything, you want to push his limits, you want to ruin him and wreck him, and offer him your body until he can’t give you anything else, and he’ll start talking.

You gasp for air, but then he fills your mouth with his cock again – and you feel alive, servicing the only man in the world that has betrayed you and regretted it. A man that is devoted to you and wants to bring nothing but happiness to you, to your miserable life.

This is what love is for you.

“C-Close...”

Spencer tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you to take his cock in your mouth. You hollow your cheeks and suck on his cock, closing your eyes and moaning softly around it – it feels so good to be used, but you can’t wait to use him as well. Spencer is so adorable, he deserves to be spoiled – and by spoiled, you mean he deserves to be sat on.

“Come for me, Bee. I want you to come down my throat.” – you whisper, pulling away and gasping for air – “Fill my mouth, I know you want to.”

Sucking his cock with your lips tightly wrapped around it, you start bobbing your head and making sure that Spencer gets closer and closer. You want to ruin him and by the sound he’s making, the whimpers coming out of his pretty lips, it’s working.

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Daisy, I...”

Spencer releases a long moan before bending forward, struggling to keep his composure as he finally lets go. His orgasm quickly explodes through his body, forcing you to choke on his come as you close your eyes – the salty taste disappears as soon as you swallow everything, moaning around his cock as you lick it clean.

He deserves to be spoiled, the little thing.

Satisfied by his orgasm, you pull away from his cock. Spencer stumbles against the wall with his back as he pants, his chest heaving through every breath. His honey-coloured eyes are closed, but his hair is a mess – and so are yours, because of his fingers. Your lips are swollen and your panties are drenched due to your own arousal, a signal of what you’re craving now.

“I’m yours, Spencer.” – you whisper, noticing his eyes widen – “I’m yours, always and forever.”

Spencer holds out his hand and you grab it, intertwining your fingers with his. You get up from the floor and gasp when Spencer pushes you against the wall, shifting the positions until you’re blocked between the hard cold wall behind you and his warm body. Then, he presses himself against you.

His blood stains your skin, his mouth covers yours in a kiss that leaves you breathless and his fingers tug your panties down your legs. You don’t want to push him away, begging for that kind of release he just reached – and you moan, you cry out his name, you whisper how desperate you are to have him and feel him inside of you.

Spencer can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you, to invade you with his fingers. He was gentle nine months ago, but now every trace of kindness has disappeared – you want it rough, so rough is what you’ll get.

Rough, dirty, nasty, quick.

Spencer thinks they’re all synonyms.

“Are you going to make me come on your fingers, Bee? Are you going to make me beg you for more?” – you mumble on your lips, arching your back when Spencer drags his fingers up and down your folds – “Is that why you’re so desperate to touch me? Because you want to hear me beg you to touch me more?”

Spencer nods his head, using his left hand to grasp your throat. “I love hearing you beg.”

“I know you do, Bee.” – you say with a smirk, rolling your hips against his hand – “Then make me beg. Show me how good you are with your fingers and with your mouth. I know you’ve missed my taste, so let me give it to you.”

You place both your hands on Spencer’s neck, forcing him to look at you. You glance at the door behind him and before you could say something, Spencer is already dragging you inside his bedroom – and pushing you down over the bed. You giggle with your eyes closed, enjoying the soft mattress beneath you as you lay your head on the pillow.

You’ve missed having sex on a bed.

Cells and prison beds are uncomfortable.

You had to enjoy sex inside of a car and being eaten out in an interrogation room – now this will be perfect, because you’re going to take your time making love to him.

You spread your legs for him, giggling when Spencer stops in his tracks to admire your whole naked body. He has missed you too much, to the point he couldn’t even remember the outline of your body if it wasn’t melted against his – he was so used to sleeping with you, with your arms around his neck, with his lips pressed to your shoulder, with your ass grinding against his cock whenever you had the chance.

And now you’re there for him again, ready for the taking.

Ready to be used, to be owned.

The black tattoo of two daisies on your inner thighs, the delicious sight of your throbbing heat – drenched in arousal, clenching around nothing.

Spencer feels himself getting hard again at the sight.

He drops between your legs and without giving you the chance to breathe, he buries his tongue inside of you. Delving rapidly and thrusting in and out of you, you can’t help but cry out his name in pleasure – a pleasure that seems to be lasting forever.

The sweet taste of your arousal coats his tongue and he growls, closing his eyes and pushing two fingers inside of you with ease. This is about him as much as it is about you — he needs to taste you, to hear the soft sounds of your begs and pleads while he forces his tongue into your tight cunt and feels you tremble under his eager touch.

“I wish I could stay here for hours.” Spencer whispers

You let out a laugh at his words, moving your hips against his face. “I’d like to be fucked, Bee. Your tongue is perfect, but your cock is even better. We have all the time in the world for you to taste me. I promise you.”

Spencer doesn’t seem to agree with you. He wants to make you come with his mouth, he wants to feel your arousal coating the bottom part of his face, he wants to consume you and feel your body going limp because of his mouth, his tongue, everything.

His lips close around your clit and you gasp at the sensation, hands grasping at his soft curls and tugging on them painfully. Spencer moans pathetically into your pussy when you tug at the strands, feeling his cock hardening at the gesture and pressing against the mattress.

“Oh, is my Bee all worked up again? Did my moans and my cunt feel too good for you?”

You tug on his curls, laughing again at him. You can’t believe such an incredible man exists, a man that now belongs to you and will do so for the rest of his life. A life you’re going to make better, unless he’s not ready for it – but something tells you he is.

The sound of his whimpers makes your cheeks bloom with a heat that pours over your shoulders and down into your chest. You can feel the pleasure getting higher and more intense inside your body, spreading through your lower abdomen.

“Are you going to make me come, Bee? Are you going to wreck me? Because I know you can do it, I trust you to do it.”

His mouth is soft, driving you to a perfect delirium with every delicate stroke of his tongue. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a quick pace, quickening the process of your impending orgasm. He savours you, spreading your folds with his tongue before focusing on your clit. He sucks on it, moaning softly at your salty taste.

“Yes, Daisy. I want you to come all over my tongue. Please? I’ve missed it.”

His tongue presses against your entrance. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face so he can lick deeper — consume you from the inside out. Your whole body is shuddering, moans and pleas are flowing out of your lips.

You’re out of breath as your mind is hazy, completely dominated by his actions. You’re allowing him to take control of you, but once you’re going to come back, he’s the one who’s going to beg for more.

“Yes, yes! Give it to me, please. Fuck me with your fingers, Bee.”

His nose nudges your clit and you grind against his face, dragging your pussy against his lips. Spencer quickly inserts a third finger, watching you clench hard around all three of them. Your thighs quiver around his face and you cry out again, arching your back as your orgasm approaches quickly, rapidly, maybe too much for your taste.

Spencer begins to eat you out with a delirious eagerness, alternating between flicking his tongue over the swollen bundle of nerves and dragging the flat of his tongue over your folds. His grip on your thighs is firm, keeping you in place so he can fasten his lips to your cunt and suck your clit.

“Come for me, Daisy.” – Spencer urges, pulling his fingers in and out of your body – “I can feel how close you are, so come for me. Please.”

Spencer curls his fingers inside of you, pressing into that soft spot behind your pubic bone. You tense, clenching around his thick fingers as he sucks your clit between his teeth.

There's a burst of heat spreading through your body and you fall off the edge with a sob, feeling yourself clenching and spasming around his fingers and his tongue as white hot pleasure burns your blood.

Spencer tastes every ounce of your sweet release, pushing your thighs wide open for him once he has pulled out his fingers from your heat.

“Fuck me.”

It’s an order, Spencer knows it and he’s glad you’ve said something. He was waiting for that, for a sign from you that could allow him to use you, to own you, to prove to you that he is eager to please you and give you exactly what you want.

Spencer removes his fingers from your body and brings them up to his mouth, sucking them clean before pushing them inside of your mouth. Your eyes are wide open when you feel his hand covering your mouth and forcing you to suck on his fingers – but you comply without hesitation, rolling your hips against him.

His cock is pressed to your heat and you moan again, smirking when Spencer uses his free hand to push the head of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust around it, but it doesn’t matter – he begged you to make him bleed earlier, now it’s your turn.

You want to bleed for him, you want him to hurt you.

You can prove your loyalty this way, the only way you know.

“God, you feel better than I remembered.” you whisper

Spencer leans forward, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He bites your skin, tasting your blood on his tongue as he pounds into you. You scratch his back, blood seeping under your nails as a river of moans comes out of your mouth.

“Look at me, Bee.”

Your voice is broken by the pleasure exploding through your body.

Spencer looks at you, pressing his forehead against yours. His honey-coloured eyes stare into yours as his body makes his way inside of yours, owning you and marking you deeply while you scratch him again. You know those marks won’t fade that quickly, but you’re willing to give him more of them – until he’s permanently yours, body and soul.

His body already belongs to you and his soul... it’s almost there.

Unable to say anything else, you look at him as he takes you. Over and over, Spencer makes you his – like you’ve always wanted him to. His lips are twitched into a smile, kissing yours to prove you how much he wants you, how desperate he’s to have you.

“What’s my name, Bee?”

“Daisy.”

You raise your right hand, slapping him across his face. His movements don’t stop as he fucks into you even harder, driven by the pleasure of the pain you’re giving him.

“What’s my name?” you ask him again

Spencer stares into your eyes, moaning softly when you roll your hips to meet his. You’re challenging him to call you with your new name, with a name that means what he has done to you – even though he regrets it.

He doesn’t want to call you like that. Spencer still sees you like the innocent flower you have tattooed on your inner thighs, a flower that shows the pure soul you have.

“Answer me, you fucking whore.” – you whisper, venom seeping from each word you say – “I want to hear you say it.”

Your nails are digging into the soft skin of his chin, drawing a few drops of blood that stain your skin. You’re not going to stop until he calls you the way you want. He needs to understand what he has done, even though he regrets it – you want him to be aware of his actions, of how much they hurt you and how you’re going to move forward from them.

Offering him your body is a step in the right direction, but Spencer has to take one too.

Or this will all be for nothing.

“D-Daisy. You’re my Daisy.”

“Wrong answer.” – you slap him in the face again, tightening your grip on his chin – “And keep fucking me hard and fast, I don’t have time for niceties. I want you to own me, not make love to me.”

The levels of bliss Spencer was experiencing before increases as your words come out of your lips, because they turn him on more than they should. Your tone, the way you’re looking at him, how your body is reacting to his thrusts – all of these things are screaming at him. You want more, more, more.

“Daisy.”

You place both your hands on his neck, pushing him away from you.

Spencer whines, rolling on his back when you immediately get on top of him. You don’t want to waste your time with him if he doesn’t give you what you want, but at the same time every second you get to spend with him is more than you’ve always wanted.

Straddling his thighs again, you sink down on his cock again – inch by inch, you allow his body to own yours.

“I’m going to give you one more chance, Spencer.” – you warn him, wrapping both your hands around his throat – “If you give me another wrong answer, I won’t hesitate..”

Spencer doesn’t need you to say out loud what you’ll do to him.

The fear in his body takes over as he feels your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his throat, cutting off the air flowing through his body. His eyes widen as you roll your hips, smirking when you see his cheeks heating up.

“What’s my name, Bee? Who am I?”

Each time you bounce on his cock, Spencer can feel himself getting closer to the edge. He grasps you by your hips, digging his fingers into your sides as his eyes roll in the back of your head.

How can you expect him to speak if he’s out of his mind right now?

Bottoming out inside of you, Spencer parts his lips. “Dahlia...”

He hates the way your name sounds perfect on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t see you like a dark flower. You’re not a Dahlia, you’re a sweet Daisy who needs to be picked up with delicate hands and gentle touches.

However, you disagree.

But hearing him say your name, with such a desperate voice, it’s more than enough.

You tighten your grip on his throat, smiling wickedly when Spencer gasps for air, and you keep riding him. You grind down his cock, feeling it brush your clit each time you roll your hips – and the feeling is incredible.

“You fill me up so fucking good, Bee. It’s like I was made for your cock.”

Spencer listens to your words, but he’s too far gone to process them and understand them. All he craves right now, all he wants is to come inside of you – giving you exactly what you need from him.

“Your body belongs to me.” Spencer whispers

You hear Spencer whisper those words and they have the effect he was hoping they would. Your whole body goes numb after hearing him say that you belong to him, words that should’ve never left a man’s lips when it comes to you – but when it comes to Spencer...

He can say whatever he wants, because you want him.

He owns you just like you own him.

“You want to make me yours forever, so do it.” – Spencer says, struggling to keep his voice steady as your hand presses down on his throat – “Own me.”

“I already do, Bee.”

Soon enough, the tension in your stomach gets too much. You feel yourself walking over the edge of desire, so you just let it go – you let yourself own that pleasure, bathe in it as the orgasm takes control over you.

“Fuck, yes! Yes, Spencer, fuck me harder.”

Spencer starts bucking his hips against yours, driving into you with a quick pace that doesn’t allow you to breathe correctly. The blinding pleasure is forcing you to keep your mouth shut, only able to muffle a few ‘yes’ and curses that Spencer silences with his own mouth.

He kisses you hard and with passion, possessing you until you don’t know where you start and where he ends.

His blood is mixing with your sweat.

Spencer clenches his jaws and tightens his grip on your hips, watching you bounce up and down his cock with slow movements – you can barely keep your eyes open, too lost in your own pleasure to realise he’s almost there too.

And when he lets go of that pleasure, you can’t help but cry out his name.

Spencer buries himself to the hilt inside of you, growling with his face nuzzled between your breasts and his hands pushing you down onto his hips. He wants to fill you up, he wants to make sure you’re locked on top of him and you’re not planning on slipping away.

“We belong to each other, Dahlia.” – Spencer whispers through heaving breath, closing his eyes and kissing your chest – “You’re all mine.”

You pull away your hands from his throat, wrapping your arms around his neck. You keep grinding your hips against his, moaning softly when he starts to come down from his high - a high that leaves you speechless, breathless.

A high that meant everything to you.

The pleasure is still overwhelming, holding you tight and choking you to the point you don’t even remember your own name – you don’t care he called you by your new name, you don’t care he has said that you belong to him.

You do, you just don’t like to admit it out loud – but it’s something you know.

Deep down, every inch of you belongs to him.

Every piece of your soul is his.

Spencer wraps his arms around your waist, pulling him closer to your body as you close your eyes and hide your face in the crook of his neck. The metallic scent of blood is lingering in the air, but it’s a smell you’ve learned to love – how couldn’t you?

It’s the smell of life. Of something that you can take away from others in the blink of an eye.

It’s Spencer’s blood, the blood of a person you think you love.

Love.

What a stupid emotion.

Love is a useful tool to use against others, because it makes people do stupid things for you. Spencer killed a man for you, Richard left his own wife to work for you, your father tried to kill your mother out of love for you.

Manipulation only works for so long, love doesn’t.

Love can last for a lifetime and Spencer is willing to spend that lifetime with you, loving you, cherishing you, giving you all the things nobody has ever given you – which is why what you feel for him is getting stronger.

Or at least, whatever you think that feeling is.

Definitely not love, not in the traditional sense.

You don’t know how love feels, you don’t know if you’ve ever felt it – but you’re sure that whatever you’re feeling for Spencer, it’s new. It’s warm, it’s kind, it’s sweet, it’s dangerous because you know it’ll kill you in the end.

Is it worth it?

The emotion is not, but Spencer is.

Spencer slides his hands up your back, slowly lifting his face. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m here now, Bee.” – you whisper, looking down at him – “I’m not going anywhere.”

Untangling yourself from his grip with a frown on your face, you roll off his body and onto your back while Spencer runs his hand over his chest. You push a pillow under your head as you close your eyes, catching your breath after your previous activities with Spencer.

You couldn’t cuddle with him after riding him in his car, so you’re going to make up for the time you’ve lost nine months ago.

You turn to look at him. He’s inspecting his fingers, still stained with dried blood.

“You should take a shower.”

Spencer hums, bringing his fingertips up to his lips. “Later.”

Humming at the sight, you place your hand on his chest and he covers it with yours. You knew coming back for him was going to be difficult, but right now, completely naked by your side, everything feels right.

Things are as they’re supposed to be.

“We need to talk about Robert.”

You raise your brows. “What do you want to know, exactly?”

Spencer gently holds your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. “I know why you wanted me to kill him, but why did you want him to die?”

You immediately pull away from him.

The question is too personal and you’re not sure if you can handle such a difficult topic right now. No one has been interested in your personal life for years, so Spencer must be playing a game you’re not willing to be part of.

Why would he care?

You know that Spencer is not going to back down until he gets an answer, but you really don’t feel like talking right now. Your brain is still too hazy, your body is still lost in the blissful moments you’ve shared with Spencer and talking about what your Uncle did to you is going to ruin the whole comforting atmosphere.

“I killed him for you, Daisy. I deserve an answer.”

“You don’t deserve anything I’m not willing to give you.” – you answer him, moving away from him and jumping off the bed – “No more questions.”

You pick up your clothes from the floor, barely looking at Spencer.

Who does he think he is? Why would he ask you that? Have you not been careful enough to not drown him in your past?

Why would you even tell him what happened to you? It’s not going to change anything, it’s not going to make everything magically disappear – and it won’t take those sleepless nights away from you.

“And stop calling me Daisy.”

“But it’s your name.”

You turn to look at him, gritting your teeth. “My name is Dahlia.”

Spencer shakes his head, sitting on the edge of his bed. “No, it’s not. You’re not a Dahlia, you’re my innocent Daisy.”

You let out a bitter laugh, crossing your arms to your chest.”I am not innocent. I made you kill a man for me. How does that make me an innocent, delicate flower?”

“You just wanted me to protect you, to take that man away from you before he could hurt you again.” – Spencer says, patting the mattress – “Come here. Please?”

You don’t move.

You’re not willing to share that part of your life with him.

If you do, he’s going to use it to his own advantage – just like every man has done to you. Spencer Reid might be the one you were waiting for, but he’s still a man and he’s not going to be any different from all the others. They’re all out there to get you, to hurt you – and Spencer proved you right when he arrested you, after using you. After fooling you with those honey-coloured eyes.

“We had to read your file while we were investigating.”

Your heart drops down in your chest.

Those files were supposed to remain sealed.

“You had no right..”

“Yes, we had.” – Spencer interrupts you, noticing how hard you’re holding back the tears – “What happened to you was unfair, but talking about it could help you process everything better. I’m here to listen to you, if you’re willing to have me.”

You sniffle, feeling a warm tear escaping your eye.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if Robert hadn’t been brought up, but here you are.

Showing vulnerability to a man that has ratted you out before, a man you’re willing to risk your life for. A man that seems so different from all the others, but deep down is probably like all of them.

“I’m here to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“Then why did you want me to kill him? Why didn’t you do it by yourself?” – Spencer asks, knowing he’s probably pushing your buttons – “You’re a smart woman, you could’ve gotten your hands on him before he could even realise you’re in front of him.”

You take a step back, tightening your grip on the skimpy skirt you were wearing before. His questions are making you nervous and he can sense that, but he’s right: just like you killed your father, you were able to get to Robert in no time, but you were scared to do it.

You didn’t want to get too close to him, terrified that you wouldn’t be able to actually kill him.

That man hurt you, traumatised you, turned into a scared little kid and then into a woman who seeks revenge against people like him – men who think they own women, they deserve to kill women and are the only ones who are able to hurt women. But they’re not, because you hurt men – and they beg you to stop, to spare their lives but you don’t.

“You almost killed your father. Were you scared you might have not been able to kill Robert properly?

“Almost? I killed him, Spencer.” – you hiss, watching his face change – “You saw what I did to him.”

Spencer opens his mouth, lowering his eyes. “My team said he survived.”

You cover your mouth with a hand, giggling. “Survived? Please, that man deserved what he got. He died atrociously and in pain, in front of our very eyes.”

He’s silent.

“Then again, you were too busy burying your face between my legs to notice.” – you say, every word filled with venom – “And too stupid to believe your team.”

A rush of anger runs through his bloodstream at your words and your implication. Why would his team lie to him? Emily confirmed that you didn’t kill your dad, all the files he has read are saying the same exact thing as his friends. Did they forge everything?

“Why would they lie to me?”

“Because they want to protect you. They know what happened between us and they don’t want to rat you out, like you did to me.” – you whisper, leaning forward to reach his lips – “They hate me, they want to kill me, but you’re not going to let them do that.”

Spencer shakes his head, grabbing your face with both hands. “I don’t care what they think of us. I’m not going to let them get to you.”

Giggling again, you press a kiss on his lips as you drop your clothes on the floor again. Spencer leans back on the bed, watching you straddle him again. You’ve distracted him, but this is not enough; he needs something more, and that something is your body.

“I know, Bee, which is why I’m here. To be protected, to be cherished.” – you whisper, brushing the tip of your fingers on his chin – “To be yours. Forever.”

Spencer kisses you and drags you on the bed again, losing himself inside of you.

Once again, you’re willing to use your body to forget everything and everyone around you. All you care about is the pleasure that Spencer seems to be able to give you, despite everything you’ve been through and all you’ve done in prison.

It’s a shame he hasn’t asked you how you managed to escape a maximum security prison, but maybe it’s because he knows he won't be able to handle the answer. He probably doesn’t want to picture everything you’ve done with those guards, how you allowed them to touch your body and use you however they pleased.

You felt awful while doing it, but that’s what you’ve always been taught.

Women are weak, their only strength is their bodies.

You took that lesson to your heart, using it each time you had to obtain something. Just like right now, you’re allowing Spencer to slip in and out of you, kissing down your chest, marking you and owning you over and over – until he has nothing to give or take from you.

You can’t be bothered to moan, too focused on watching him crumble down for you.

His eyes roll in the back of your head as he fills you up again with his seed, flooding your insides with the promise of a life with him and his devotion to you. Who are you to take this away from him, when you’ve desperately seeking this kind of help?

If Spencer is willing to offer you himself, you’re not going to reject him.

Once he’s done with you, Spencer yanks your hair with the tip of his fingers. You arch your back at his will and moan his name, closing your eyes as that familiar soothing feeling takes control over your shuddering body.

“He threatened to rape you when you were younger. He forced you to watch while he was raping other women, reminding that he could’ve done that to you once you grew up.”

You open your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. “No...”

“You were crying for help to every person around you, but they never listened. You were left all alone, drowning in your own fear.”

You shake your head, placing a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, but Spencer turns to the side. He has to get something out of you, he has to prove to you that he’s not going to get away from you unless you give him a reason to.

Your past is not the reason.

“Your father sold you to Robert because he wanted his brother to do everything your father couldn’t do to you.”

“Shut up. You have no right...”

You stop talking when Spencer blocks both of your hands, rolling on top of your body and forcing you down onto the bed. You can’t move and the tears are already spilling from your eyes, while the rage inside of you is building rapidly.

He should be scared of you, but he seems so calm, so relaxed.

“You were terrified of getting to Robert because you knew he would’ve kept his promise.”

You kick Spencer with your legs, wiggling out of his grip, but ending up pushed again. “Stop!”

“Or maybe he got to you already. Is that so? Did he touch you before I could do it? Before I could save you from him?”

You don’t even look at Spencer, feeling the tears streaming down your face. You don’t want to think about that, you don’t want to waste your time talking or even thinking about the man who hurt you worse than anyone else in this world.

You can barely breathe as Spencer holds you tightly against his body, keeping your hands away from you and blocking your legs from kicking him again. He knows he’s manipulating you into talking, but if kind words can’t do the trick, he’s forced to use violence – just like you did by allowing him to fuck you again.

Spencer is not stupid, he knew you weren’t going for a second round so soon.

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay with me. I’m here to help you, Dahlia, but you have to tell me what really went down.” – Spencer whispers, using a sweeter tone – “You didn’t deserve your childhood. I couldn’t save you before, but I can save you now.”

When Spencer leans forward to give you another kiss, you use that moment of weakness to shove him off your body – but not before slapping him hard, across his face. Red marks are already forming on his skin, along with a purple bruise over his chin – where your ring was.

You shake your head, getting off the bed.

Spencer touches his bruised cheek.

“Don’t you ever talk about Robert ever again.” – you spit out, breathing in through your nose as you try to calm yourself down – “I will kill you.”

And with those words, you’re out of his sight.

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 10 months

Note

Hii I was wondering if maybe you could write a Aemond Targaryen fic? Where Aemond is like Gomez Addams and he says, "Look at her --I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way --what bliss." With maybe even a taylor swift song? Thanks :))

EITHER WAY WHAT BLISS ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! It makes me so happy to know that you requested my writing! I love this idea! He does ( lowkey ) give off this vibe <3

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Tully! Reader

prompt: Aemond is willing to die for the Reader if it means he'll get an ounce of her love.. ( The inspo was 'Gorgeous' by Taylor Swift. )

key: h/c = hair color, Dahlia = random servant girl, Evan Tully

word count: 2,000+ words

Brushing away a strand of white hair from their face, Y/n scans the rows of men, her eyes lingering on her brother Brynden. Her name day was supposed to be a small affair between her family and her bethorthal’s. But, the King was stubborn and insisted on having a Tourney at the very least. So, she’d be sitting through at least an hour of jousting, games of archery, and grueling duels. Not exactly what she wanted to do on her name day. But, what can she do?

Picking at her bottom lip, Brynden gives her a weak smile as he adjusts his armor, her heart clenched tightly. He could barely hold a sword, and of course, he had to enter a bloody swordsman match. Feeling Dahlia nudge her side hard, she snaps out of her daze, her cheeks flushing red from embarrassment. Shit. Turning to look at Dahlia, she tries to smile as the black haired girl continues to ramble away about something about men and their ‘walks’.

“I bet you my finest necklace, that knight. The one in black armor is really fine under that helmet.” Dahlia giggles, twirling a strand of her hair.

“Oh? How do you know that? For all you know he’s got the face of a donkey. How good he looks in armor, doesn’t mean that he’s that good in regular clothes.” Y/n scoffs, following Dahlia’s eyes.

“It’s the walk. Look at how he holds himself. A fine looking man walks with a little extra pep in his step. Like he knows that the moment he removes that helmet, girls are going to swoon over him.” Dahlia smirks, “Just like your little Prince.”

“Just because you want to fuck my betrothed does not mean that I wish to hear about it, Dahlia. Keep that talk for the other maids.” Y/n scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“I am envious that you, little Y/n Tully, are going to call that man her husband. The ungodly things I would do make him look at me the way he does to you. He looks at you like you crafted the moon and stars.” Dahlia rambles, a dreamy look on her face.

Scoffing at Dahlia’s teasing, she narrows her eyes at the knight, inspecting the black armor he adorned. His face was hidden under his helmet. Looking for some kind of hint of which house he was from, the only thing that was kind of a hint was the sapphire blue cape he was wearing. But, even then it could mean nothing. Tilting her head to the side, she didn’t like that the man was a mystery, why was he hiding? What was he hiding? Watching as he strolls over to Brynden, she stands up a little straighter in her seat, her jaw clenching. If he so much as touched a hair on her baby brother’s head, she’d make Maegor the Cruel seem like a baby compared to her.

“Brynden will be fine, Y/n.” Dahlia reasons, but her voice is weak.

“Brynden cannot even hold a sword upright.” Y/n argues, “Not to mention he’s got two left feet!”

“Well you’ve always looked rather pretty in black?” Dahlia weakly smiles.

“Dahlia!” Y/n scolds, shooting her friend a look.

“I know! But, at least he’ll look good dying?” Dahlia cringes at her own words, “I don’t know! I don't really know what to say..”

Slapping Dahlia’s shoulder, the pit in her stomach only worsens, her face curling up in anger and uneasiness. She did not have any other siblings but Brynden. He was her whole world. Her baby brother. She had practically raised him! She was the one to teach him how to say his first words. She was the one who taught him how to walk. She was there to teach him how to handle a horse. How to be a just and kind Lord. How to be the perfect husband. She did everything that a parent would do. Except how to hold a sword.

Picking at her bottom lip with her teeth, she slowly rises from her seat, pacing back and forth in place. She wouldn’t be able to stomach her baby brother getting hurt. It’d kill her, surely! Feeling Dahlia grab her arm, she’s pulled from her darkening thoughts. The taste of blood floods her mouth. Shit. Wiping her bottom lip clean of blood, she’s aware of the eyes that now shifted onto her. The maiden of the day. Aemond Targaryen’s betrothed. The sweet little Tully girl born with white curls. The Enchantress of the Realm.

"Ocean blue eyes looking in mine I feel like..I might sink and drown and die.."

“If that was your attempt to make me feel better, it failed..” Y/n breaths out, “Perhaps, I should just talk to him about pulling out. It’s not too late..”

“My Lady…” Dahlia tries, but Y/n doesn’t hear her.

“Do not try to talk me out of this, Dahlia. I will not allow my brother to make a fool of himself, or worse kill himself.” Y/n shakes her head, “I have made my mind! Come let us⎯”

“It’s your future husband..” Dahlia speaks through her teeth.

“You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face..'Cause look at your face..gorgeous...”

Furrowing her brows at Dahlia’s odd words, the black haired girl turns her around, forcing her to look down. Shit. She finds herself staring down at Aemond, the mysterious knight in black armor. Her face flushes a bright red from embarrassment. The knight they had⎯Well the knight Dahlia was gawking at was Aemond. Staring at him with wide eyes, Dahlia nudges her side, trying to snap her out of her little daze. But, it feels like her tongue is made of lead. Looking him up and down, his long white locs are braided back from his face, but a few stray strands frame his face. There’s a small smirk on his face, as he adjusts his armor. Gods almighty, he looked gorgeous in armor.

“And I'm so furious..At you for making me feel this way..But what can I say? You're gorgeous..”

“Aemond..” Y/n breathes out, “You're the blue knight..I..I thought you didn’t give a shit about Tourneys?”

“I don’t. But, it would be a shame if I did not participate in my future-brides Name Day Tourney.” He smirks, licking his bottom lip.

“I..Aemond, could you..?” She chews on her bottom lip, “Could you possibly? Please watch out for my brother?”

“I will.” He nods, making her smile gratefully.

“Thank you.”

He kept his word, or at least that was what Dahlia was telling her. She hadn’t dared to open her eyes just yet. She didn’t not care if that made her a coward. She just couldn’t stand to watch the fights and not think about her brother while men pummeled each other with swords. Squeezing Dahlia’s hand tightly, she tenses at the call of her brother’s name and Aemond’s. Her eyes shoot open, her jaw dropping slightly. No. No. No. No. That couldn't be right! She must have misheard! Sharply turning her head to the fighting circle, she bolts from her seat, leaning against the railing. Her nails dig into the wood like a cat’s would. Her eyes are flickering between the two of them.

One of them would get hurt, she was sure of it, whether it be intentional or not. Her breathing grows ragged, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She was afraid that it would jump out of her chest. Watching as they raise their swords, she stuck in a trance as they slowly circled each other. Their swords collide, her eyes shutting tightly at the horrid sound of metal against metal. Biting her lip, she doesn’t know why her eyes peel open, but her heart stops in her chest as she catches the sight of Aemond falling to the ground. His sapphire blue cape slowly turned red. She nearly faints at the sight of red, he’s bleeding. Oh gods..He was bleeding.

“You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah..”

“AEMOND!” She shouts, the words escaping her lips before she can stop it.

“My Prince!” Someone shouts, their voice a blur in her mind.

No. No. No. No. Watching with blurry eyes as Maesters rush to him, she wants to bolt to him, but her legs are frozen in place. Brynden drops his sword, the realization creeping on his face. Feeling Dahlia’s arms wrap around her, it seems like the Arena explodes with chaos in an instant. Everyone is shouting loudly. Guards are rushing around in every direction. But, throughout the chaos her eyes are on him. Her Aemond.

“He’ll be okay…” Dahlia reassures, “Maesters are tending to him..”

“Take me to him.” Y/n breaths out, tears flooding her eyes.

“Y/n..” Dahlia nervously warns, “I..I don’t think we should. Not right now at least.”

“Take me to him.” Y/n repeats, her voice more firm than before.

Shooting Dahlia an icy glare, Dahlia chews on her lip before nodding her head at the request, a nervous look on her face. What if it was bad? What if he died? Would Brynden be punished? Gods, how in the Seven bloody hells did this happen? Following Dahlia, she picks up her skirt, her eyes searching for the white haired man that was to be her husband. Pushing past frantic Lords and Guards, it felt like an invisible force had her by the throat, squeezing her lungs and throat with each step she took closer to a bleeding out Aemond.

Seeing him laying on the ground, his chest piece was removed, his white tunic cut open to reveal the rather gnarly gash on his stomach. Tears flood her eyes at the sight before her. Covering her mouth with her hand, she rushes to his side, her eyes scanning every little detail that she can. His chest was moving up and down, he was drenched in sweat and dirt. That was a good thing. Looking at his face, his eye patch was removed, his hair completely unbraided and spread around him like a halo.

“Oh..Aemond..” She whispers, petting his sweat soaked hair.

“My Lady, you should not be here.”

“He is my husband to be, I will not be leaving.” She argues, turning back to Aemond. “Aemond, are you okay, love?”

“I am fine. Do not worry.” He grunts, clenching his jaw.

Staring into his eyes, she tenses up at the sight of his missing eye-patch. Fuck, he looked gorgeous with that scar. Looking up at her, he notices her attention on his face. Lifting a hand to touch his face, his face drains of color when he doesn’t feel the leather of his eye-patch. He had been purposeful in hiding his scar from the world. He didn’t want to be viewed as a monster. But, she looked at him with such softness in her eyes. Hunching over him, she casually places her hand over his eye, hiding his eye from everyone. Giving him a small nod, his breathing grows shaky.

“You dodged his attack. But, not like someone as experienced with a sword as you are, would. Why?” Dahlia asks, narrowing her eyes at Aemond.

“Look at her, I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way⎯what bliss.” He whispers, High Valyrian flowing off his tongue.

“You are a lovestruck fool, Aemond Targaryen.” Dahlia scoffs, “I hope this is the bloodloss talking.”

“What did you say?” Y/n furrows her brows, “Dahlia..?”

“He didn’t want to risk hurting your brother. That he rather he be the one hurt and not your brother. Come, let us reassure your little brother that he hasn’t killed your beloved.” Dahlia lies smoothly, nodding her head at Aemond.

Y/n looks between Dahlia and Aemond unsure, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn’t know enough High Valyrian to understand what the two of them were discussing. But, she trusted Dahlia enough to take her word for it. Opening her mouth to speak, Aemond grabs onto her hand, stopping her. Looking down at Aemond, her cheeks flushing involuntarily, her heart was pounding frantically in her chest. She wanted him to keep on looking at her like that.

“Go..” He nods, "I will be fine."

#hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of dragons #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd

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vioartemis · 8 months

Text

Friends?

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: One day, in the library, you catch Wednesday's attention... Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none a/n: expect a part 2, not proof read, it was in my drafts for like 3months now so I can't guaranty it's not awful (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday pushed the library’s door and directly walked to the aisle she knew had the books she needed. After 10 minutes spent in said aisle, she let out a frustrated sigh; she couldn’t find the books, which meant someone either borrowed them already -which was unlikely, or the librarian forgot to put them back on the shelves.

Either way, it annoyed her.

Now she had to talk to the librarian to ask if the books were here, and it would probably take longer than necessary.

When she arrived at the desk with a blank expression, the woman was writing something on her computer, not sparing Wednesday a glance.

“I would like to borrow some books.” She said through gritted teeth, causing the librarian to look up

“What books?”

Wednesday put a piece of paper with the references of the books on the desk as an answer.

“Botanical curses & poisons, and The supernatural” the woman read out loud “You’re lucky, they’ve just got returned”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Even if she did think it could’ve happened, she was still surprised. She didn’t actually think anyone else would ever borrow these books. It wasn’t common seeing someone read that kind of books -or read at all. And usually Nevermore students only read the books in the school’s library.

She didn’t hear the door while she was in the aisle, which meant the person was still there. Maybe she had found a classmate with the same interests as her? Which didn’t mean she would try to befriend them, but it was always good to know.

“If you’re looking for the girl, she’s in the aisles over there” the librarian said, as she had already put the books on the desk

Wednesday looked at her, a frown on her face, but nodded once and grabbed the books.

She then walked to the aisles the woman talked about. And here you were, looking at the books on the shelves, reading the back of one while holding another in your arms; Royal art of poison. Wednesday had read that book before, she recognize it was a good one.

Her attention then shifted on your face, even if she could only see your profile. She was sure she never saw you at Nevermore. She usually had a good memory for that kind of things, so maybe you didn’t have classes in common.

After looking you up and down, she walked out of the building to go back to Nevermore.

On the way there, she couldn’t help but think if she had seen you in the hallways, she would’ve never thought you would read this type of books.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

The following week, Wednesday tried to find you in the school. Unconsciously at first, as she didn’t really care, but then it became more and more important to her as she couldn’t seem to see you. That frustrated her. You had to be somewhere.

And yet she couldn’t find you.

She always got what she wanted, it was unusual for her to ‘fail’. So naturally, she decided to go back to the library.

When she did, she wandered in the aisles, looking for you. Unsuccessfully. It was like you didn’t even exist.

She felt like she was losing her mind, and it wasn’t as fun as she anticipated.

Just as she was about to go back in the aisle she saw you in for the first time, she saw Thing out of the corner of her eye. He was pointing a nearby aisle, signaling you were in there.

You were indeed in the aisle, looking at the books on the shelf in front of you. Venomous was already in your hands. A book about earth’s deadliest creatures… Wednesday thought.

Then your hand rose up to pick up another book; The Black Dahlia.

Now Wednesday was really interested by you. She never met anyone who knew about her favorite unsolved murder case, let alone read about it.

She took some step closer to you and grabbed a book on the shelf.

“You might as well read this one, if you’re interested in the Black Dahlia case.” she said as she handed you the book

You gave her a surprised look, not expecting anyone to recommend you any books in that section, let alone about this case.

“Oh, thanks” you grabbed the book “Do you know much about this case?”

“Of course, for it is my favorite unsolved murder. How come you know about it?”

“I saw a documentary on tv yesterday. Just thought I’d read some more about it. It seems to be a very interesting case” you explained

“Indeed.” A little pause “So what are you? Werewolf? Siren? Psychic?”

You frowned, confused as to why she would ask that.

“Are you from Nevermore?” you asked

“Are you not?”

You shook your head.

“I’m at Jericho High, sadly”

“‘Sadly’?”

You nodded.

“There’s a bunch of idiots there. Like- a whole bunch. I don’t really fit in. They’re all about social medias, hating on outcasts for no reason”

Wednesday looked at you, waiting for you to continue and explain yourself.

“I prefer books, even if I have to admit that scrolling on Pinterest while listening to music can be addicting. As for outcasts… I’ve always been interested in them, especially vampires. But I mean- every ‘class’ of outcasts I read about was interesting”

The raven took a moment to think about what you just said.

“It’s unusual to see a normie who doesn’t hate outcasts. Are you sure you’re a normie?”

“Pretty sure, yeah”

She looked you up and down after that, analyzing you. You seemed to be honest, she didn’t sense any hostility coming from you.

The following days, Wednesday caught herself thinking about your conversation, and by extension, about you. As much as it pained her to admit, something in you attracted her. Or at least made her ant to know more about you, which led her to the library once again.

This time, you were sitting at a table, reading another book about poisonous plants, some other books stacked next to you.

“Are you planning to murder someone?” she asked as she sat on the chair facing you

“Holy shit…! Do you make a habit out of scaring people?” you asked, half joking, a hand on your chest after her voice made you jump

“It’s more of a hobby. Who is going to be your victim?”

“No one!” you chuckled, once your heartbeat calmed down a bit “I’m just trying to find information about Aconitum, like where it grows, etc”

“Why?”

“I want to experiment with it myself, simple curiosity” you shrug

So you did want to poison someone. Interesting. She thought.

“No, no, I can guess what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to kill anyone. But you never know when that kind of information can be useful”

“Indeed.” she nodded, even if she was a bit disappointed

“And if I did want to kill someone, I would probably use something else like Nightshade or the Nerium Oleander -but I’d have to find some first” you added “Anyways, I need to go, I have class… See you later, maybe?”

Wednesday looked at you as you packed your things and left the library, not without putting the books back on their shelves. You definitely had a little something that made her look forward to the next time she would be in your company. That thought surprised her; she usually wasn’t one to seek others’ company.

She stayed sat at the table for a few minutes, lost in thoughts, before standing up almost abruptly. She walked to the door and was about to leave, when the librarian called her.

“Hey, wait a sec!”

Wednesday turned to face the woman who got out from behind her desk. She handed something.

“What is that?”

“A micro-cassette recorder. It must have fallen from your friend’s bag when she left. I thought you could give it back to her”

“She’s not my friend.” Wednesday said blankly but took the object anyways

The librarian rolled her eyes at the smaller girl and went back to her desk while Wednesday left the library, putting your recorder in her backpack.

“What’s that?”

Wednesday looked up from her typewriter; Enid was holding the recorder.

“A micro-cassette recorder.” she simply said “Put it back where it was, Enid.”

“Oooh what are you doing with it? Recording podcasts? I thought your thing was novels” the blonde continued, not listening

“‘My thing’ is novels.”

“Then what’s on this recorder?”

Before the raven could say anything else, the werewolf pressed the play button.

“Okay… Is it recording? Ah, yes, the numbers are moving. Okay okay… um… Where do I even start? God I must look so dumb talking to that thing… Anyways. Uh… Day 1 of research on outcasts, I guess? Is that how they do in movies?”

The recorder stopped playing, for Wednesday had pressed the button again, taking it from Enid’s hands.

“Whose voice is that? It’s not yours”

“Of course not. It’s…” she paused, looking for the right words “… it belongs to someone I met at the library.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?? I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Why do you have her recorder then?”

“She forgot it. I just keep it until I can give it back.”

“Hmhm, sure”

Enid said with a big smile, before going back to her activities: laying on her bed and scroll on Instagram, probably. The other girl watched her do so, then went back to her writing, putting the recorder on her desk.

After half an hour of peaceful writing, she heard Enid tell her she was going in Yoko’s dorm for whatever gossip session they had every week. From the corner of her eye, Wednesday saw the recorder move closer to her.

Thing was pushing it in her direction.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you want to hear more?” Thing signed

“I wouldn’t like it if anyone read my novel without asking me first.”

“But you’re curious”

“… Of course.”

“Listen to it then! Maybe you’ll be able to help her. She seems nice, she won’t get upset” Thing signed quickly, almost as curious as Wednesday to hear your research

“Fine. Give it to me.”

Thing pushed the recorder further so she could grab it. She did, and pressed play again, but not after a glance at Thing.

“A word to Enid and I’ll snap all your fingers.”

“Hmhm… so I borrowed this book in Jericho’s library about outcasts -I’m surprised they have books about that considering the way they see them. I think it was a pretty interesting book!”

Wednesday listened to what you had to say on that book, then fast-forwarded to a bit later on the record.

“… lost count of the days at this point. It’s crazy how I can’t find anything more than what I already read! It’s like normies’ knowledge about outcast is only the basics -not to say the clichés. God, I wish I was at Nevermore. I’m sure they have sooo much more books there. Not only about outcasts, but about poisonous plants as well!”

The raven was about to stop listening when you started speaking again.

“Oh, yesterday, I met a girl at the library! She advised me to read a certain book about The Black Dahlia case. She said she was from Nevermore. Well, she didn’t deny it. I wonder what’s her gift… But it’s a weird question to ask, isn’t it? I bet she knows lots of outcasts if she studies there… of course she does, what I am even saying?”

The record stopped by itself after that.

Wednesday had the tiniest smile on her face. You were smart, that she had noticed when you first talked, yet hearing you speak freely like that made you sound so clumsy. You were passionate, that was for sure.

“Thing, do you think you can find her quickly?”

A knock on your bedroom window caught your attention. Your stopped what you were doing and opened it. To your surprise, a hand -without a body- ran (?) in your room.

You looked at it, mouth agape, certainly not expecting that.

“Hi…?” you said hesitantly

The hand stopped on your desk and starting signing.

“I uh… don’t speak sign language… sorry”

The hand paused, as if it was sighing.

“You can… hear me?” you asked, surprised

It gave you a thumbs up as an answer, before showing its palm to you. A message was written on it with a marker: ‘You forgot your recorder at the library. Call me.’ Followed by a phone number.

“Thank you”

You said while typing the number on your phone, before calling it.

On the other side, Wednesday was waiting in front of Enid’s computer. She remembered how to use it from last time Enid told her. When she saw you were calling, she pressed the spacebar to pick up.

She certainly didn’t expect to see you with Thing on your shoulder.

“Hi!” you said with a smile “So you found my recorder? I was afraid someone random found it…” you paused “Your room is… more colorful that I would’ve imagined”

“It’s my roommate’s side.” Wednesday frowned, a bit offended you could think she would decorate her room this way

“Oh. What does your side looks like then?”

She turned Enid’s computer to show you -quite proudly.

“Ohh it’s nice! Wait- you have a typewriter?? That’s so cool! Like the overall decoration”

Thing typed lightly on your shoulder.

“Oh, yes, sorry. He’d like me to drive him back to Nevermore. Which I can understand, it’s a bit far away… So, we were wondering if you could open a window or something? I don’t think your principal would appreciate if someone from outside came without permission”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. Let’s say it’s for keeping my recorder safe, that way we’re even” you smiled

Wednesday nodded, and said she would open their window, just before your parents called you from downstairs, asking who you were talking to. While you were answering them, Thing gave the raven a thumbs up.

Of course it was your plan all along, bringing her here… she thought, a slight smile forming on her lips again. Well played.

After going out by your bedroom window, took your bike, put Thing in the little basket attached to the handlebar, and started making your way to Nevermore. On the way there, you talked with Thing; he used your phone to type and made it read the text out loud so you could hear.

When you arrived at Nevermore’s gate, you left your bike against the low wall near the entrance. To your surprise, the gate wasn’t closed -which was a good thing. You got on the school’s territory, walking silently to the school itself.

You had only ever seen it in pictures, and you had to admit, it was way cooler to see it for real.

Thing tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality, and pointing at a big round window with a metallic spider web on it. It was probably the dorm you had to reach.

“You could’ve told me it was on the fourth floor…”

You examined the architecture of the school, before cracking your knuckles and starting to climb.

“If I fall… I hope I won’t break too many bones”

After what seemed like an eternity, and three times almost falling, you finally reached the balcony. You took a moment to lay there, catching your breath, Thing patting your arm reassuringly.

He then disappeared inside and came back with the raven right as you were standing back up.

“Thing said you were hurt.” Wednesday said, her eyes shifting from your face to your hands, bruised by the climbing

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ve done rock-climbing with my parents before, I’m used to it”

“… If you say so.” she paused, and handed you your recorder

“I almost forgot about it” you chuckled, taking it from her hands and putting it in a pocket of your vest “Thank you”

Wednesday nodded. You did the same, as a goodbye, and were ready to go back home, when she spoke again.

“If you want more books about outcasts or something else…” she stepped forward and gave you a piece of paper “… let me know.”

You took the paper and opened it. Another phone number. You had guessed the previous one wasn’t hers, and according to what Thing told you, she never used the phone some guy gifted her.

You smiled and put the paper in your pocket.

“Thank you”

You were about to leave, but you remembered something.

“You never told me your name”

“Neither did you.”

“I’m Y/n. Y/n L/n”

“Wednesday. Wednesday Addams.”

“It was nice seeing you, Wednesday” you smiled “It’s probably going to sound weird… But I enjoy your presence, I feel understood. I hope we’ll be good friends. Anyways, good night!”

With that, you climbed down the wall, disappearing from her field of view.

Wednesday looked at the sky; it was dark, lots of clouds, but the moon was still visible behind them. It even illuminated the raven’s face.

Thing tapped in her direction.

“I only tolerate her presence. Don’t imagine things.”

More tapping, and what looked like he was rolling his eyes.

“One more word and you’re locked in the drawer until I decide otherwise.”

Thing saw it as the sign to go back inside, not wanting to risk it.

When she was alone on the balcony, Wednesday’s eyes shifted to your small form while you were getting on your way home.

Her little smile was back, that smile which was so unusual to see on her face, that only the people she really cared about ever saw.

Friends, hm? I suppose that’s what we are.

[Next part]

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday #wednesday x fem reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix

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unforgettwble-sumii · 1 year

Text

BLACK DAHLIA'S ️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

(Wednesday x Fem!reader oneshot)

> "Look! I made these for you, I hope you like them!" | Yoko teasing the fuck out of Wednesday by calling you lovey dovey names | A bit of jealous Wednesday.

🌒 You and Wednesday have been dating for a month, she knows everything about you. At least that's what she thinks. There's one thing about you that even Wednesday doesn't know.

🌒 she goes and looks for you in your dorm, only to be greeted by one of your best friend that she considers as an enemy.

"Y/N?" Wednesday called out, entering your dorm room after knocking. She looked over to your bed and saw that you weren't there, but took the time to admire your side of the dorm.

You had a bunch of plants decorated around the room, on walls, the ceiling and even on your desk and nightstand. You absolutely loved collecting them, however she never knew where you got most of them.

"Hey, Wednesday" Yoko replied. She was sitting on her bed, phone in hand, probably on a call with Divina.

Wednesday glanced to where the vampire was, nodded in acknowledgement and then spoke.

"Do you know where Y/N is, Yoko?" She asked, her brows furrowed a little, showing that she was concerned to where her dear 'friend' was.

"Ohohohooo" Yoko chuckled fixing her posture and position so she was sitting closer to the foot of her bed and had one leg over the other.

She had this weird shit eating grin on her face, Wednesday hated it. "Hold on Divina, I'm having a convo with Wednesday. I'll tell you the details later." she says ending the call and turning off her phone.

"Concerned for sweet Y/N? Looks like Wednesday Addams is capable of falling inlove after all." She says with a playful smirk. Wednesday shot her a glare, she had to hold herself together in order not to lunge at the Vampire.

Since Yoko happened to be a close friend of yours, Wednesday didn't wanna see the horror on your face once you see the vampire dead of garlic poisoning.

However, Yoko had no idea that you two, Wednesday and you, were dating since you and Wednesday kept your relationship lowkey.

"First of all, no. You will not tell Divina about our conversation. Second, I just wanted to know where Y/N was because I needed to investigate with her in the forest. Stop trying to make up pathetic lies." She spatted out, Venom lacing in her voice.

"heh, chill out goth girl. Oh and the cutie pie's in the forest" Yoko said, relaxing into her bed knowing that Wednesday was trying to hold her shit together.

Cutie pie? Oh no no no no. She did not just call you that. If it weren't for Wednesday being aware that you and Yoko were close friends, she wouldn't have a problem decapitating the vampire.

Wednesday realized that if she kept talking to Yoko the more that she would tease the crap out of her and the more she would have a hard time controlling her anger.

"Don't ever call her that again. I'll be going now. Don't forget to sleep with one eye open." She says with the usual deadpanned expression.

Wednesday then exited the dorm, on her way to look for you. Not forgetting to slam the door shut, startling the vampire quite a bit, but not loud enough for the vampires shit eating grin to fade.

It was a pathetically great day outside, as how Wednesday would describe it, the sun was shining and it had no signs of it raining

You were in the forest growing different classes and types of flowers, a little hobby of yours. Lucky for you, your ability happened to correlate to your hobby.

"hmmm...what should I make next?" You were sitting with your legs crossed on the grass, thinking of which flower to grow next.

A sudden idea appeared on your head. You started to grow the chosen flower, you hummed a little lullaby as it was growing.

You were too distracted by the flowers forming that you didn't realize that Wednesday called your name.

"...Y/N..?" Wednesday called out. She saw you sitting on the grass but she couldn't see what you were doing since your back was facing her.

She heard you hum the lullaby, she recognized it. It was the lullaby you would hum at the most random times, so she really didn't think much of it, other than you must really like the song.

As Wednesday walked closer, you unexpectedly turned around, causing Wednesday to get startled quite a bit. "Hi Wen!" You say standing up, hiding the flowers behind your back.

"I have been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing here?" Wednesday asked with a hint of concern. "Oh I was just growing these. Look! I made these for you, I hope you like them!" You excitedly said, showing her the black dahlias that you had grown yourself.

Wednesday stayed quiet for a moment, then gently took the flowers from your hand. "You grew these? I have to admit, that's quite... impressive." She said looking back at you.

"Well, lucky for me I didn't have to wait that long in order for it to grow" you say with a cheeky smile. Wednesdays lips curled up a little but her expression quickly returned to the usual deadpanned look.

"I used my abilities to grow these, actually." You say scratching the back of your neck. Wednesdays eyebrows furrowed, showing that she was confused.

"Abilities? You didn't tell me you had abilities?" She replied. "Oh, really? I thought you knew about them" you said with a surprised look.

"Well, to be honest, not a lot of people here know about my abilities. Only a few of the students, like Yoko and Enid, And most of the teachers know." You replied, feeling sorry for not telling your girlfriend sooner.

Wednesday honestly didn't know how to react. She felt quite defeated at the fact that Yoko knew about your ability before she could find out about it. Though, she knows that it's understandable since you and Yoko have been friends for years.

"Thank you." Wednesday replied, Your gaze softened and your lips curled up into a sweet smile, causing Wednesday to feel butterflies- no, spiders in her stomach.

Wednesday leaned closer to you. She then mumbled something while you were looking into her eyes lovingly.

"..I love you, my sweet little dahlia."

a/n:

Hello my dolls, I deeply apologize for the absence. School has been hectic and I almost forgot about the oneshots I wanted to make. ✿

I believe an anon requested something like this, however their request was quite different from this oneshot. Believe it or not, I only noticed that they requested it while I was in the middle of writing this oneshot.

I figured that since I was almost done with writing this, I was just going to post this then, make their request, instead of deleting this. ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶🎀꒱ა

I am actually planning to write their request, so please stay tuned if you wanna read it („• ֊ •„)

I also had no idea what I was doing while writing this, so please forgive me if nothing makes sense.

That's all, thankyou sm for reading. I luv u all!!! xoxo ♡ - unforgettwble-sumii

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

#wednesday addams x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday imagines #wednesday x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x fem!reader #jenna ortega #netflix #wednesday fluff #wednesday 2022

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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year

Text

«it's high tide, baby.»

― pairing : Minho x fem!Reader ― content warnings : fantasy au, pirate au, angst with a happy ending, enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates (I know you saw it coming), isekai, LOTS of pop culture references (two aldo giovanni and giacomo’s references italian readers this is for you), magic au, mention of murder, mention of drowning, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 24k ― notes : I sure do hope you’ve read Chris’ merman fic because I’m feeding on my own lore // Ananke is meant as the greek goddess of fate // extra kudos to Black Desert for having an amazing map and kudos to me for using the videogame aesthetic because I don’t have enough creativity in me to come up with a fantasy world // I have one (1) fear and that's I'll keep adding more and more everytime I read this story because it's just so dear and precious to me // yes, yes "The Bitter Dahlia" is exactly the one mentioned in «Protect Me, My Aurora.»

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

― summary :

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

“«Everything is over, now.» the Captain spoke in a confident voice, «I won’t let anyone else hurt you.» he added, before capturing his lover’s lip in a gentle kiss.” «Oh, holy fuck,» you blurted out as soon as you read that sentence, closing the book out of instinct, «holy shit, finally!» you added to yourself, almost closing the book out of excitement, completely aware about the fact that you were smiling like an idiot at no one but the now finished book in your lap but well, you couldn’t help yourself.

It was a book you’ve randomly found in the book-store next to your workplace, its cover had nothing special that immediately jumped to the eye: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Actually, if you had to be completely honest, the detail that convinced you to buy it was the small golden stone embedded right under the title, instead of the actual plot – plot that in the end you came to adore.

«You are really lucky, this is the only copy that has been sent to us.» had said the old lady working there, making you furtherly curious and giving you another reason to buy it.

It was a love story, but it contained just the right amount of adventure as well. Christopher, a young, handsome and fearless pirate, was not only the Captain of the Golden Fleece – who was capable of intimidating anyone who saw its sails in the distance, but he had become the head of the entire commercial network that passed through all the known seas. Chris had at least 200 fleets under his command, each of them committing various raids in the name of their Captain - or some might say "the King of Pirates", and now was able to sail wherever he wanted without getting his hands dirty as he had done in the past.

During his adventures, he eventually fell in love with a girl – Leana, who was originally engaged with a navy’s soldier; after an awful lot of vicissitudes and obstacles in the path of their happiness, Christopher eventually stole her away – he’s a pirate after all, making her a member of his crew and finally allowing each other to live their so craved love story.

Of course, the Captain would have never made it alone; his seven long time friends had always been more than ready to help him and support him in every case of need.

Among his crew, you definitely had a personal favourite: Lee Minho, a young former bounty hunter enamoured with the feeling of freedom he felt while sailing that definitely made your heart race more than once. Not only he was described as handsome, with black raven hair that would almost always be tied up because he "hated the feeling of having hair in his face while being on deck" - but also not wanting to cut it short, a captivating and hypnotic gaze that let you wonder if you could reach the bottom of the sea if you ever took a dive into them, but he was also straightforward and sarcastic, a reason why Christopher found himself asking for Minho’s advice the most; despite his strong personality, he truly cared for his friends, and he considered them like a family. Chapter by chapter, you found yourself admiring his character so much that you anticipated every one of his appearances, eager to read more about him.

«Oh, Cleo, can you imagine a love like this?» you sighed dreamily, absently running your fingers through your cat’s thick fur, Cleo simply mewled at you, a faint noise that you interpreted as a proper answer, «or a life like this.» you added, your voice suddenly turning a little more hesitant, a little more lonelier. During the last few months, your life had fallen into an incredibly boring and obnoxious loop: go to work, finish your shift with an incredible amount of stress spreading through your body just to stop in order to buy groceries on your way home, see some friends once in a while, take care of your cat and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Of course, you would have felt a lot lonelier if it weren’t for Cleo: you found her sitting in front of your apartment complex on a random day two years ago and since then she started living with you, as if she had been expressively been waiting for you to find her that day.

«You always look angry, don’t you?» you cooed at her, hoisting her into your lap as to cuddle her a little closer. «Just like your mom.» you referred to yourself, shortly drowning your face in her soft fur, loudly smooching her a few times while adding some incomprehensible praises; Cleo mewled, as if she was exasperated at your behaviour and you quietly giggled, your soft laughter shifting into a sigh as your eyes fell on the book once again.

“I was really lucky to get the only copy of this,” you definitely had loved everything about the story, to the point to start fantasizing and wondering what could their next adventure be now that the crew gained a new very special member. Did Chris and Leana got married in an actual chapel or did they ask someone in their crew to randomly marry them just like Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner did? At the same time, what if they ended up recruiting more women? The thought of a stereotypical girls night on a pirate ship made you snort, but at least, Leana wouldn't have felt lonely, since living among men must have been boring at some point.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that you ended up drifting off on your couch – still uncomfortably wearing your jeans, and therefore, you definitely could not notice about the strange events occurring as soon as sleep overcame your senses.

The book you were holding in your hand seemed to be woken up by a curious kind of magic, as the golden stone began to glow in a faint light; the book opened by itself just as if it possessed personal will, and its pages quickly turned back and forth by themselves, as if it was deciding which page to read first.

The book’s golden glow gradually seemed to shine brighter and brighter, and it eventually woke you up.

«What the-» you mumbled, confused, when you felt as if someone or something was harshly tugging at your soul and all of a sudden, you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore.

The book had closed once again, politely placing itself on your coffee table; the glowing had completely disappeared, and the golden stone returned to its original plain looking appearance.

However, in what has always been your home, all traces of your presence seemed to have vanished altogether.

Suddenly drowning was definitely not something you expected to happen on a Thursday evening, moreover, how could you be drowning when you’ve been reading on your couch until few seconds ago?

At first you thought of it as an extremely vivid dream, but as soon as you tried to breathe and water started to fill your lungs, you realized that your only priority was to get to the surface as soon as you could; thankfully, you were barely beneath the surface, so you managed to get your head out of the water soon enough, while finally breathing and coughing due to the salt water you had unintentionally swallowed.

«What the fuck?!» you shouted in disbelief, quickly glancing around yourself; first of all, judging by the sun burning up in the sky, it was the middle of the day, and moreover, everywhere you turned, you couldn’t see anything but water, except for an enormous galleon blocking part of your sight.

«Man at sea!» you heard many voices shout from its deck, and soon enough, a rope was thrown in your direction.

“What kind of rescue is this, where is the coast guard?” you thought to yourself as you swam towards the rope which was peacefully floating above the surface, unsure about how you were supposed to climb up there in the first place.

However, the answer to your thoughts came pretty fast, in the form of a boy dressed in typical piratesque clothes, urging you to grab his hand; you quickly pondered your options, and between dying from hypothermia caused by the cold water or probably being abducted and eventually killed by a boy with a strange taste in clothing, you considered the latter to be the safest.

«Everything’s fine now, don’t worry.» the boy reassured you with an unexpected friendly tone, and as soon as you locked eyes with him, your heart seemed to stop; his eyes were a deep shade of blue, while his hair, eyebrows and his eyelashes were as white as fresh snow.

Although you were completely certain that you’ve never met him before, you couldn’t help but wonder why his appearance was extremely familiar to you.

«Are you okay?» «How did you end up so far from land?» «She’s trembling like a leaf, poor soul.» «Let’s just throw her back in.» «Shut up, Minho, go fetch a blanket before she freezes to death.» «Can’t you see she looks shocked? Let her breathe!» «What in the bloody hell is she wearing?» The various voices overlapped in the exact moment in which you and the snow white boy had safely climbed on deck; however, everything you could do was to look around yourself in complete astonishment.

A large group of men was working on the ship, while only seven of them and a young girl were paying attention to your arrival; your eyes quickly took in both the strangers and your surroundings, and you definitely noticed that not only they were all dressed like pirates, but the ship seemed to be built exactly like one of those you generally saw in movies, historical re-enactments or museums.

«Oh no, roleplayers.» you whined in complete deject; they exchanged a confused glance among themselves, but eventually, only one of them spoke.

«I believe you’re confused, we’re pirates.» he clarified, and once again, his features seemed to be incredibly familiar, «I’m Chris, the Captain. She is Leana, my wife, and these are my friends.» you watched with dismay as Chris ended up naming his friends just like the characters of the novel you have been reading all afternoon.

«Oh holy shit, it’s even worse, cosplayers.» you nervously rubbed your eyes, shivering every now and then because of the wind mercilessly blowing on your soaked clothes.

«Poor thing, look at her!» Leana suddenly cooed, immediately rushing at your side and taking her jacket off in order to place it on your shoulders, «She’s freezing, let’s save the introductions for later, huh?»

«What if she’s a spy?» Jisung questioned, but his option was immediately silenced by Leana’s glare.

«In the middle of the ocean, Han?» she quickly retorted with sarcasm dripping from her tone, «What if it was mutiny?» she scoffed, gently pushing you to what seemed to be the Captain’s quarter, just to quickly make you sit in front of the small wood burning stove.

The following events seemed to happen in a confusing haze, you vividly remembered Leana commenting about her unfamiliarity with both the style and the fabric of your clothes as you allowed her both to undress you and to dress you up in fresh, warm clothes that belonged to her. Of course, now you were dressed like a pirate as well.

«What do you mean, you’re from Europe?» Chris had calmly repeated your words, «What kind of place is that?» you felt like crying out of frustration at his words. Under the Captain’s request Leanahad brought you into the ship’s interrogation room, and now you were sitting there, the whole room definitely smelling like blood – the strong scent more than enough to give you a headache, with nine pairs of eyes studying every single one of your moves.

«I don’t really feel like joking right now, I really want to go back home.» you repeated with a tired voice, not really understanding what was happening; it was like you had casually walked in the set of a movie, however, a terrifying feeling of dread creeping in your soul was suggesting you that there was definitely more to it. What if these people were real, and you had managed to shift inside the book you loved so much? No, that definitely couldn’t be the case, right?

«I don’t really feel like joking either, little lady,» in an impatient tone, Minho spoke out of the blue and quickly walked next to Chris, who was sitting in front of you at the other side of the table. If your heart picked up pace in happiness at the sight of your favourite character, it started hammering in your chest in pure dread as soon as Minho harshly planted his dagger in the wooden table, right in front of your folded hands. «next up is your tongue.»

«Nice work on terrifying her, Min Min.» Felix sarcastically commented his friend’s action, noticing how you started trembling once again, but this time everyone could easily figure out that it wasn’t because of the cold any longer.

«You cut her tongue, she can't talk, it's not that hard,» someone added, and if you weren't mistaken, he must have been Hyunjin, «see why I'm the one that usually handles the interrogation part?» he added with a sinister yet smug smile, and you had to force yourself to swallow that little bit of saliva you felt in your mouth, trying to avoid eye contact with both the pirates who were so casually talking about torture and interrogations.

«What if she drank too much sea water?» Seungmin chimed in, after he had been studying your behaviour with concern, «You know, in my medical books there are plenty of examples of people suffering from amnesia due to a huge amount of shock.» he suggested, and everyone seemed to consider that it could have been your case, with the only exception for Minho, who was staring at you with a look that you could swear that had probably killed someone at some point.

«We are currently sailing the Margoria Sea,» Chris spoke again, his voice a little kinder now that he had considered Seungmin’s suggestion, «and you’re on our pirate ship, the Golden Fleece.»

“Margoria,” you thought, “of course, in this universe, she's the goddess of the waves” you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration as you tried to convince yourself not to cry, recalling the exact moment the same goddess had been mentioned in the novel.

The more you thought about it, the more the surreal possibility of you shifting inside a book seemed to be the only possible answer to your list of infinite questions, especially because if those people really were cosplayers or actors, they would have eventually broken their act due to seeing you in the verge of having a panic attack. Moreover, the author had always been extremely descriptive in every single detail of the story, and therefore you found it a little bit too much of a strange coincidence for these people to naturally have the same somatic traits as the characters you had just finished reading about. It was undeniable that the people standing in front of you were the stark copy of the ones described in the book.

Few hours later, Chris’ authoritative voice filled the Captain’s quarters, and your eyes eagerly wandered through the room; you’ve read about this moment a lot of times, Chris would summon his long time friends in his quarters and they’d discuss what to do because he valued their opinion as if it was his own.

«Just, what is she doing there?» Minho spoke suddenly, clearly referring to your presence in the quarters; due to your first meeting, you were extremely wary about meeting his gaze, let alone the possibility of crossing his path by accident.

Actually, it’s not like destiny was working in your favour, since you were nervously standing in front of the wooden wall and next to Minho. Everything about your body language exposed how nervous you were about it: your arms were crossed in front of your chest, and you kept your legs spread just a tiny bit – enough to have a slight chance to attempt to sprint away if he randomly started to chase you in order to throw you off the deck.

«I swear Chris entrusted her to me literally two seconds ago,» Felix replied, eagerly waving his hand as if it could make his point even clearer, «pay attention when the Captain is speaking!» he snapped his fingers, admonished his friend, and you found yourself exhale the faintest trace of the hint of a brief laughter through your nose.

However, much to your dismay, you quickly realized that Minho’s hearing must have been otherworldly, since the barely audible noise you made did not go unnoticed by his ears, consequently making your face turn blank as soon as you felt his gaze burning into the side of your head. Hesitantly, you slowly turned your head to your right, confirming that Minho was most definitely staring at you; out of reflex, you immediately looked away, just to glance back at him for a short second.

Minho, who had been staring at you, secretly pleased about the fact that you seemed scared enough not to try some stupid tricks on them, shortly uncrossed his arms from the front of his chest, just to slightly lean towards you: he quickly mimicked the gesture of grabbing something with his hands, while mimicking a bite with his mouth at the same time. Instinctively, you rapidly tilted your head back as you followed your survival instinct, but you heavily slammed your head against the wooden wall behind you.

«Ow!» you winced in pain, grabbing the back of your head with both hands; you were certain that the impact you just felt was more than enough to give you a headache for days, and still, despite Leana immediately rushed at your side to see if you were okay, and despite the fact that you were crouching on the floor massaging your head, Minho kept his original position, staring in front of him as if nothing had happened.

Seungmin was right behind Leana, attentively cradling your head to see if you actually managed to hurt yourself; unbeknownst to you, Seungmin was actually holding back an amused laughter, since it has definitely been a while since he met someone as clumsy as you.

A couple of days later almost everyone seemed to have accepted you as a new entry of the crew; actually, you considered yourself lucky since most of the pirates on board seemed to not even notice your presence. Of course, you ended up going along with the amnesia excuse because the whole “you look like you all popped up from a book I’ve been reading and I’m trying to understand if I’m having a very vivid dream or I ended up shifting on accident but I actually didn’t really mean it and now I want to go back.” would have been definitely too troublesome to explain. Most importantly, you didn’t feel ready to process what could have happened to you but also, you didn’t want to face the realization that you had suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere, without a real possibility to get back home safely.

Honestly you were pretty much useless on a pirate ship, and therefore you ended up in the kitchen, either helping Felix and the other cooks in their task of preparing the food or just cleaning and preparing the room where the pirates formed small groups and took turns to have their meals.

If the truth was that you really ended up in a novel, you had to admit that everyone beside Minho acted accordingly to their character. Chris and Leana acted as two lovebirds, completely smitten with each other; you rarely saw them – let’s guess why, but they overall seemed to act friendly towards you. Leana had eagerly helped you decorate the room that had been assigned to you, it was a little small and right next to the storage room – the window was wide enough for you to escape just in case, but it was perfectly okay to you, since you were hoping that you wouldn’t have to remain on the ship for too long.

Since Leana seemed to trust you, so did Chris; despite the fact that you’ve interacted only a handful of times, he seemed as reliable as he had been portrayed in the novel.

Felix and Seungmin were definitely the ones you’ve seen the most. Felix was literally acting as your keeper, paying attention to you as if he was a concerned older brother and not someone who you had met few days earlier. Still, you could expect this from him, since he had always been described as the kindest one out of their group – beside Jeongin.

Seungmin had examined your head a concerning amount of times by now, if you were to ask him; actually, he had quickly realized that you were pretending to have headaches only when Minho was around, and he simply got along with it. He treated you with respect, even if he seemed to be a little wary of your presence. «Let’s hope you can get your memories back soon,» he would say, «so that you can return home safely.» you never answered, his words always making your heart tighten as a reflexive answer.

Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin were almost always nowhere to be seen; thanks to the author you knew that they had a gambling addiction, however, the only times you saw them they were joined by the hips, always joking around with each other – and Minho, always looking too busy to pay too much attention to you.

Jeongin was basically the miniature version of Chris: you knew that the Captain had saved him when he was still a little kid, and since then Jeongin had always followed Chris’ lead. He was the one that seemed to respect you the most, he was also absolutely certain that you must have been a Princess of a faraway land. «I’m really no one.» you would answer every time with an apologetic smile, earning a sad pout from the younger boy.

Minho, however, was openly against the idea of keeping you on board, and often suggested to throw you off the deck as soon as you started being too annoying. You couldn’t understand why he was so mean to you, and you weren’t definitely the only one to notice; more than once, the others had admonished his behaviour, reiterating the fact that he should have been a little bit nicer to you, especially after what you have been through.

«That’s exactly the point, Chris, we don’t know! She could be a siren or just a lunatic witch,» you overheard him argue with the Captain one day, «face it, if that were the case, no one would be immune to her spells, not even your beloved wife.» your hands instinctively clenched on the broomstick you were holding to sweep the floor of the corridors, and your gaze was lost somewhere in the wooden floor.

«She might as well be telling the truth,» you heard Chris answer in his usual calm tone, «I don’t want to deny her a shelter just because she lost her memories, because that sure wasn’t her fault.»

«What are we listening to?» Changbin’s voice right next to your ear almost made you jump out of your skin due to the sudden fright; his eyes widened in stupor as you almost dropped your hold on your broomstick – thing which would have definitely expose the fact that you were overhearing a very secret conversation. Luckily, Changbin’s reflexes were drastically quicker than yours, and so he collected the broomstick just in time, before handing it to you once again with an amused smirk. He placed his ear against the door, quickly connecting the animated argument to your sad expression and he gently smiled to you in an unexpected friendly manner.

«Don't worry too much about it, Ace, he’ll come around.» Changbin briefly stated before walking away, heading back towards the deck at the end of the corridor without uttering another word; you shortly stood there, speechless, staring at his withering shoulders as his silhouette gradually disappeared in the light coming from outside.

“What the hell?” you thought, incredulous: Changbin had barely spoken to you and now he decided to give you a random and most definitely sarcastic nickname and offer you words of comfort, all of a sudden?

“Something bad is definitely gonna happen,” you quickly deduced, going back to your original task; you were about to start sweeping the floor once again, before an ominous aura seemed to fill the packed space of the corridor.

“There it is,” you announced to yourself, refusing to turn around to confirm the suspicion that Minho had left Chris’ chambers, “oh, divine Xena, mighty princess forged in the heat of battle,please help me with this one,” you instinctively moved out of inertia, backing towards the nearest wall as Minho was walking towards your frame.

“Here we go, it’s him!” you dramatically thought, hugging the broomstick to your chest as if your life depended on it, the only shield between you and Minho, who was standing in front of you with his usual furious stare that magically seemed to disappear as soon as his eyes diverted from your general direction.

«I don’t know what you did to have everyone wrapped around your little finger, but that’s not gonna work with me, princess.» Minho spoke with a harsh tone, cornering you against the wall by placing his left hand next to your head; silence fell between the two of you, and you instinctively clenched your fists around the broomstick, just to be able to attempt to defend yourself in some kind of way.

Could you do self defence while using a broom? Of course. Could you defend yourself against Minho, judging the sheer force he used to plant a dagger in a thick wooden table? Of course not.

Minho spent few seconds studying your face with incredible attention, as if, if he stared hard enough, you would transform into a whole different creature, confirming his theories about you. However, Minho momentarily seemed to have forgotten the concept of personal space, because his nose brushed against yours at least twice as you were doing your best to avoid his piercing gaze.

«Now that I take a closer look, you’re definitely not as pretty as a siren.» he suddenly stated with a sly grin while raising his eyebrow, before detaching from you altogether, just to walk towards the deck’s direction.

«And you had to almost kiss me to find out?» you yelled back a little louder than intended as soon as he was at a reasonable distance; to say that you were outraged was an understatement, you were furious.

To think Minho was your favourite character when you were reading the novel, what were you, crazy?

Despite the fact that you were genuinely doing your best to avoid meeting Minho, the pirate was clearly doing the opposite, neutralizing every single one of your good purposes as the two of you seemed to keep running into each other. It didn’t matter whether you were simply doing your assigned chores or you were peacefully chatting with one of the pirates, he always seemed to find something to do in order to get on your nerves; sometimes he would just accidentally knock random things off the table so that you had to pick them up and clean them again, other times he would interrupt a conversation just to be mean at you.

Minho was definitely getting on your nerves, but you did your best not to pay too much attention to him, since you definitely had more important things to think about. Inside your heart, the growing feeling of homesickness was constantly calling for your attention; you often found yourself on the verge of tears, but it was a side of you that you were determined not to show to anyone, thing that lead you to cry yourself to sleep more than once.

The part of the crew assigned to the kitchen, of course, always had their meal before the others did, and more than once it led to your small group of friend to join, and today was not exception. Walking out of the kitchen, you saw Minho, Jeongin, Chris, Jisung and Seungmin sitting at one of the long tables in the room while eating and loudly chatting, and now that Jeongin was hastily and eagerly waving his arm to let you know that you should have sat next to him to have your quick lunch, you realized that yet another time, you couldn’t escape your fate of avoiding Minho as if he was the plague.

«May I, uh...» you walked next to Leana, who was walking towards their table as well; she immediately tilted her head towards you, listening, «May I approach the bitch?» she bursted out laughing really loudly, immediately understanding that you were talking about Minho; however, that happy and hilarious bubble of joy disappeared the same moment you heard Hyunjin’s voice right behind the both of you.

«What did you say?» never did the simple request to repeat something seem more dangerous; you swallowed, feeling your blood turn cold in the same moment the flashback of him mentioning his “interrogation habits” popped into your mind. However, the few weeks you spent living among pirates were teaching you how to build up your courage – or more like “fake it until you make it”, as someone would say.

«I said “may I approach the bench”,» you answered, pretending to be annoyed with the useless repetition of your sentence, nodding towards the long benches that you were using instead of chairs, «what did you think I said?»

The crew was incredibly hungry that day, you could easily tell from the speed at which they ate and the various groups took turns, thing that didn’t give you much occasion to chat with them as you often did; instead, you were frantically walking back and forth from the kitchen, helping two other pirates to deliver food to everyone.

“Maybe if I find a similar book I can get home,” you thought as you absently piled the dirty and empty plates on top of each other before carrying them to the kitchen, just to come back with clean ones, “where am I supposed to find a book in the open sea?” you sighed in deject, not liking the direction of your thoughts.

«I think you missed a spot, princess.» Minho’s arrogant tone caught your attention, and you watched with total unbewildrement the pirate hit the side of one of the wooden jugs placed on the tables, knocking it to the ground and spilling the water on the floor.

As if you were under a magic spell, all the traces of sadness seemed to vanish from your soul, just to be replaced by sheer anger; you were beyond furious, how dare he? He didn’t trust you, and you could understand his point of view; it pained you to admit to yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would have probably done the same. However, you could endure the teasing, you could endure everything he was putting you through but you definitely drew the line at this kind of disrespect. You closed your fist so tightly that you were absolutely sure that your fingertips would feel momentarily numb as soon as you tried to open your hands, and you were certain that your nails were digging a half crescent moon shape in your skin.

However, you and Minho were not the only one left in the room; Hyunjin, Changbin, Chris and few other crew members were not finished eating and therefore, they saw all the scene unfolding.

«Hey, fuck face!» you loudly called out, claiming both Minho and the other’s attention, «I get you feel powerful because you can swing a fucking sword, but you should learn to respect people who are working!» you stood your grounds, ignoring your heart wildly hammering in your chest and the nervousness you felt as soon as Minho stopped walking, just to turn towards you.

«You’re that interested in losing your head, huh?» Minho replied with an undecipherable gaze, quickly walking back towards you.

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they must have glanced towards your direction in that same moment, because right before Minho could close the distance between the two of you, Changbin’s shoulders appeared in your field of view.

«Calm down, buddy,» Changbin was still peacefully chewing on his food as he stopped him, placing a hand on the pirate’s chest, who tilted his head just enough to keep furiously glance at you.

«If we were still home, I would have get you arrested!» you spat, your chest tightening at the thought of your home town but also incredibly thankful to Changbin.

«Again with those stories? You sure do have flowers growing in your head, princess!» Minho immediately answered, trying to walk around Changbin, who was still pushing against his chest.

However, what no one actually expected was for you to actually try to confront Minho from up close, attempting to walk around Changbin as well; honestly, you were too furious to notice that you were about to face a pirate while completely unarmed and not knowing how to fight.

«Easy there,» Hyunjin suddenly spoke with amusement from behind your shoulders, placing his arms under your armpits just to stop you and hold you back.

«Say that to him, not to me!» you tried to free yourself without success; Hyunjin was very strong despite his slim figure and therefore, even when you kicked both your legs in the air while urging him to let you go, he didn’t move the slightest.

«Don’t you think this is the kind of energy we need on board, Binnie?» Hyunjin laughed, eagerly chatting as he had no trouble holding you back; Changbin scoffed a laugh as well, since it’s been a while since he saw Minho getting riled up that easily.

«That’s enough,» Chris’ authoritative voice seemed to be the only thing that could calm the atmosphere; «you, go back to your room.» he told you in a scolding tone.

«What?!» you whined, «I didn’t do anything!» you added, trying to wiggle out of Hyunjin’s hold once again.

«Don’t challenge my authority,» Chris shortly admonished you, his stern gaze not leaving any room to debate his decision, before turning his attention towards Minho, «you’re going to your room as well.»

«What?!» Minho asked in astonishment, not believing his Captain’s orders.

«I don’t want to see the two of you on deck until at least tomorrow morning.» Chris added, and that was your call to understand that the argument was officially over.

Hyunjin had offered to accompany you to your room, and as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you slightly turned towards Minho: you placed your index finger on your lower eyelid, tugging on the skin as you shortly sticked out your tongue as well. Still, you immediately turned around, so that you couldn’t see Changbin struggling not to laugh, reaching out to stop Minho once again, who was glancing at him with a murderous look.

“I want to go home,” you whined to yourself as soon as you were sitting on your bed once again; you laid down on your back, missing the sensation of Cleo immediately walking up and cuddle at your side. You wondered what happened back home, even though you were certain that your cat had found a way out of your apartment, since the window was still open when you had fallen asleep, however, what about your friends? Was someone worried about your sudden disappearance? Moreover, judging by the amount of days that had passed, you had most definitely lost your job.

«Ah, I hope they choose a nice pic of me if I made it to the news as a missing person.» you mumbled to yourself, your gaze lost in the wooden tiles of your ceiling.

“I could draw tiny lines on the wall to count the days I’m spending on here,” the sudden idea popped up in your mind, only for you to abandon it as quickly as it came. First of all, you didn’t have a knife – let alone a dagger or a sword, and therefore it would be impossible for you to engrave marks in the wall, most importantly, what if they found out and you had to repay for the things you’ve damaged? Those were the basic things happening back home, and although you were unsure about various dynamics of the world you were in, you didn’t want to try your luck. Chris looked scary while pissed off, and you read about how cruel he could be, you definitely needed him on your side.

“I could try to run away as soon as we reach the first port,” you wondered, but that option was discarded as well; although touching land was the only thing to confirm the shifting theory, you didn’t know what could have happened if it was the truth. Abduction and prostitution were sadly pretty much real in that world as well, and once again, you decided that the safest option was to stick around Chris and his crew; after all, what could harm you if he was in charge of basically everything and everyone sailing above the water’s surface?

Minho’s menacious glare appeared in your mind, and you reached out to grab the pillow from under your neck just to slam it against your face, “it’s not like I can throw a meteor at him, I’m not Zhongli,”, you thought, before suddenly sitting up in bed. «Who’s going to do my daily commissions in Genshin Impact now?!» you mumbled to yourself, thinking about all the time you’ve spent playing – time that of course had been wasted due to what happened.

Someone knocked on your door, and you genuinely wondered about pretending to be asleep in order to avoid giving explanation about what happened at dinner; nevertheless, you allowed the person in.

«Hi there,» Felix greeted with his usual cheerful tone, «I heard you caused quite a riot today.» he added, placing a small tray with a glass of water and a plate of stew on the small table next to your bed; you sighed, falling back to the bed and hoping that those blankets could swallow your frame and teleport you back home.

«I didn’t do anything, Felix,» you clarified, «Minho just hates me for no reason.» «Well..» «Please, don’t tell me this is the part where you say things like “he hasn’t always been like this”, or something.» you immediately added, preventing him from talking any further.

«Nah, he’s always been like this.» Felix quickly shook his head, sitting on the small mattress and next to your knees; he tapped your thigh twice, telling you to sit up so that you could eat dinner. «Keep up that attitude though, it’s funny to watch.» he chuckled, his face quietly shifting into a concerned frown as he noticed how you kept playing with your food instead of actually eating it.

Maybe from the outside your interactions with Minho were unusual enough to be considered funny, but to you they were incredibly stressful.

First of all, Minho had always been your favourite character, and you would have never imagined that he could despise your presence so much; most importantly, he had always been described as a whole different person, and you found yourself wondering why you wanted to be accepted by him so much. You were aware that late at night the dining room became the meeting point where some pirates gathered to drink and gamble, both because you had read it in the novel and because some sleepless nights you had passed in front of its door as you were walking towards the deck, hearing the echo of thunderous laughter or the loud chatter of the ones who lost and were unhappy with the rules. Sometimes the door wasn’t even completely close, and as you peeked inside on your way through the corridor, you could see Minho joke around and laugh with the others, thing that always made you feel sad and somehow, lonely.

«Aren’t you hungry?» Felix gently asked, noticing how you went silent all of a sudden. «It’s not that funny, though: he acts like I’m going to annihilate everyone while you sleep and well – he basically adores you.» you ignored his question, instead referring to the fact that he was the only one he didn’t threaten to kill anytime Lix called him “Min Min”.

«I’ll tell you a super secret secret,» Felix started to whisper, and you shifted your gaze on his lips, making sure that you could effectively understand what he was about to say, «me and Minho are half brothers.»

«What?!» you immediately shrieked out of disbelief, that was never mentioned in the novel! You clearly recalled their background stories: Minho was a bounty hunter, while Felix was… Felix… Well, he was…

“Now that I think of it, Felix’s past hasn’t been mentioned, not even once.” your questioning gaze met Felix, who eagerly nodded at the silent questions in your eyes.

«Our mother remarried,» he explained, before interrupting himself, «now that I think of it, mom and Minho’s father weren’t married – well, that’s not important.» Felix dismissively waved his hand in front of himself, and for the next hour, you had eventually started eating as you listened to his stories about him and Minho; despite all the times you wanted to clarify that “yes, I already know this part,” you kept silent, smiling at Felix’s eagerness and at the affection towards his brother that you could feel through his words.

«He’s really amazing,» he praised, «he’s always protected me since we were kids – you know, my… hair colour is a bit unusual.» he admitted, recalling the times when Minho would come home covered in bruises because he had protected Felix from being bullied.

«It’s beautiful, though,» you immediately replied, making Felix widen his eyes in sudden surprise, «you look like you've walked out of a fairy tale... and really, it suits you.» you added, making the pirate smile with a sad smile.

«I often said I could dye it, but Minho was always against the idea.» he said, but your attention was focused elsewhere.

“So, hair dye exist in this world as well?” the gears in your brain started to spin and twirl as you thought; once again, it had never been mentioned in the novel, but you thought that the author didn’t need to, since the story revolved around Chris’ point of view.

«Get some rest, princess,» Felix excused himself, collecting the now empty tray as he stood up; you nodded, the side of your lips curling into a small smile at how different the nickname sounded as it was spoken by the two brothers, «I’ll try to talk to him.» he reassured, and for a second, you decided to believe him.

Much to your dismay, nothing had changed after a week, leaving you to your usual routine; however, you had to admit that you barely saw Minho around, and when you did, you adverted your gaze before he could meet yours. It was as if, unlike the first days, he was keeping his distance as well, and you were grateful to Felix for it. “If you can’t defeat them, become their friend, some said!” you thought, “well, I failed miserably.”

Felix was now basically what you could call your best friend, as he had declared more than once; he always insisted for you to sit next to him when you were eating, and once you were finished with your daily chores, he would explain the most random things to you. Actually, you were incredibly grateful to him because you were finally able to tie a knot on a rope, thing which would have come handy if you ever decided to escape.

Most importantly, you and Felix had something really particular in common, and that was your admiration towards Chris’ and Leana’s relationship. The poor couple could have been simply standing in front of each other talking about the most random things and you would say something like «they’re so pretty I could punch myself in the face,» immediately echoed by Felix that would reply «wait for it, he’s gonna move a strand of hair behind her ear because of the wind,» and the both of you would dreamily coo at them as Chris did exactly what Felix had predicted.

Seungmin was still visiting you every now and then – mostly when you pretended that your head hurt because you saw Minho appearing out of nowhere and he was definitely too close for comfort, but nonetheless he spent most of his days in his study.

Jeongin was mostly spending his time with Seungmin, now, the older pirate insisting that he needed an assistant because he was tired to everything on his own, and Jeongin eagerly following his orders.

Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin were now seeing you in a whole different light: the day you fearlessly challenged Minho seemed to have made you earn their respect, and they often tried to lure you into joining a gamble match with them. «Thanks, but I don’t know the rules,» you dismissively answered every time, and as soon as one of them suggested they could teach you, you immediately added that you didn’t have anything valuable you could gamble on.

Leana was more or less, an addiction to the piece of furniture in your small room; anytime she wasn’t with Chris, she would keep you company, telling you about the most various and dangerous adventures they have lived while sailing. You eagerly listened to her, often interrupting her to ask for more details, thing that she never seemed to mind, answering your question with the same eagerness. Leana’s stories were a perfect indicator for you to deduce that between what happened in the book and your arrival on the ship, at least three years seemed to have passed; years in which Chris’ domain on the sea had become even more clear.

«It’s like being on of those cruise ships; no one dares attacking us and we can do whatever we want to, I love it.» she confessed, voicing her hopes about you liking being on board as well; you didn’t trust yourself, and therefore you simply nodded.

«Come on, girls night,» Leana had announced one day as she sat on your bed, and you furrowed your eyebrows in obvious reluctance, familiar with the concept of her words; «has anyone caught your eye?» Leana’s eyes seemed to glimmer in curiosity, and you found yourself sigh in deject.

«Yes, I mean, no.» you spoke, unclear, confusing yourself as well. What were you supposed to say? You’ve never looked at anyone under that particular light, after all!

“Well, actually…” you immediately stopped the train of your thoughts: Minho was undoubtedly charming and handsome, but he was behaving like a complete jerk towards you, and therefore you sighed, resigning yourself to your fate as you met Leana’s curious gaze.

«Minho is cute, but don’t tell him I said so, I particularly like my head attached to my neck.» you confessed, panicking as you saw her eyes widen in disbelief.

«I would have bet money on Felix!» she yelled, just to lower her voice mid-sentence, staring at you in complete astonishment.

«Felix is really cute, but everything’s really very… platonic.» you explained, avoiding saying something she would have found too weird and incomprehensible like “he’s always nice andhe gives me really good vibes!”

However, Leana seemed to ponder your words about Minho, confessing that one morning, she saw Felix and Minho talking very animately, as if they were arguing about something. «Now that I think about it, it was the morning after you’ve been both confined to your room.» she added, and she confirmed as well the fact that the pirate seemed to been avoiding your presence as well.

Leana had soon returned to the Captain’s quarters, leaving you in the loneliness of your room; once again, you couldn’t sleep and therefore, you found yourself headed towards the deck of the Golden Fleece.

The night sky was clear, the stars seemed a bright blanket that made you feel a tiny bit less lonelier; you tried to smile at the thought that in your life, you had never seen so many stars due to the industrialization and the fact that there was always a source of light around the city. On your way to the deck you ended up both carrying one of the blankets in your room and stealing an apple from the storage room, and in the end you were sitting alone in a dark corner of the ship, completely hidden from the helmsman’s eyes and from the few pirates who were awake and in charge of taking care of the ship as long as the others were asleep – or gambling.

As your gaze lost itself in the darkness ahead of you, your thoughts inevitably wandered to dangerous places, and you found yourself silently crying because you missed home. Although in the past days you have done your best to avoid even the faintest traces of intrusive thoughts, it was probably time to face the truth; even though it seemed impossible, you ended up in a fantasy novel, and of course the historical period was completely different from the one you were living in, to the point of not having the comforts you were used to have in your everyday life. A phone, internet, a hairdryer, heating, a microwave… Despite the fact that you were slowly getting used to this kind of life, you madly wanted to go back home, and the thing that completely broke your heart was the fact that you highly doubted it would even be remotely possible. After all, the lady at the bookshop had clearly said that you bought the only copy of the novel, copy which was currently still on your coffee table in another dimension.

Completely engrossed in your crying session, you didn’t notice that someone had approached your trembling figure.

«See? I didn’t lie when I said you were probably a thief.» Minho’s voice shook you out of your train of thoughts, but you weren’t in the right mind to answer to his constant teasing; you stared both at him and the apple in your hand – apple that you ended up biting only once, just to wordlessly focus your gaze once again on the darkness in front of the ship.

The moon was high up in the sky, and Minho could definitely see the fact that you were crying, especially because you weren’t doing a good job to hide your occasional hiccups; he has never seen you so vulnerable, after all you’ve been arguing like dog and cat since the day they had saved you, but yet, he breathed a long sigh, before eventually walking closer to you, crouching down so that you were more or less at the same eye-level.

«Are you okay?» Minho questioned, every trace of hostility suddenly disappearing from his voice, and he saw you simply shook your head because no, you were definitely not okay. «Can I sit next to you?» he asked again, and waited for you to answer before he dared to move.

«Why, so you can throw me off deck as soon as I cry too loudly?» you spat with annoyance, and Minho scoffed as a silent answer. If he were to be honest, he wasn’t doing it for you, but for Felix; his brother had constantly told him to give you a chance, but the pirate kept ignoring him; however, for some weird reason he didn’t want to think about, the sight of you curled up against the wall just to cry your eyes out didn’t please him as he originally thought. «Yeah, something like that.» Minho shrugged, before sitting next to you. A somewhat comfortable silence fell on the corner you had been secretly occupying, a silence made of you occasionally hiccuping trying to hide a sob just to wipe your tears with part of your blanket and Minho completely silence as his brain tried to come up with a reasonable question about why you seemed so unconsolable.

«Has something happened in the kitchen? Did Felix say something bad?» Minho gently tried, even if he doubted that was the case, since Felix was the first among the people who seemed to be completely smitten with your presence; confirming his thoughts, he saw you shook your head without voicing an actual answer.

«Have you been having nightmares?» he questioned again, his left hand hesitantly scratching his left thigh; «it happens a lot, especially the first times you sail.» again, you wordlessly shook your head, and silence fell once again.

It went on for minutes, Minho coming up with the most various questions and you simply shaking your head because he never got it right.

«I miss my hairdryer.» you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

«Your… your what?» Minho quietly echoed, confusion dripping from his voice.

«My hairdryer,» you repeated, moving your right hand in the air just to mimic a general shape of one, «it’s made like this, and we use it to blow hot hair on our hair to make it dry faster, it works with electric – oh, never mind, you already think I’m a lunatic witch.» your voice trembled at the end of the sentence, and you ended up wiping more tears escaping the corner of your eyes, as Minho was staring at you with an indecipherable gaze.

«Tell me more,» he gently spoke – almost in a hesitant way, urging you to go on, «about your crazy stories, I want to hear more.»

«And give you extra reasons to make fun of me on a daily basis? No, thank you.» you bitterly answered, and Minho’s gentle smile slowly vanished from his lips. The pirate kept studying your features, pensive, and few seconds later his right hand was hovering in front of your face, his pinky finger outstretched.

«I won’t, I promise. I call truce.» he said, and for the first time you turned your head to glance at him, unconsciously smiling at the sight of a pirate using pinky promises as a way to seal official promises; it was as if you could feel your heart tremble, the sight of the Minho you used to adore while reading your favourite book was suddenly not that unreachable anymore, and something in his determined gaze illuminated by the moon made you trust him.

Unbeknownst to you, while intertwining your pinky finger with his, a little part of your fate had changed forever.

«I think I’ve never missed Cleo so much.» you quietly sniffled. «Your lover?» Minho questioned immediately. «My cat.» you clarified without hesitation.

Eventually, you and Minho shortly ended up bonding over your mutual love for cats. You described her to him, explaining that to you, she was indeed unique and beautiful; her black fur was occasionally painted with ginger spots, and her eyes were a light shade of green.

«She always looked incredibly pissed off, just like me.» you scoffed a laugh, and you heard Minho chuckle softly at your words.

«To think you were going to face me without a weapon, you sure do have some guts,» he commented, and you answered with an exasperated sigh, «you could ask Jisung to teach you a trick or two.» your head immediately turned towards him at the unexpected suggestion. Minho simply shrugged, explaining that you would be more useful on deck if something were to happen.

«I used to have three cats before I choose to sail with Chris.» he admitted then, changing the topic of your conversation, smiling to himself.

«I know.» you answered without thinking about it too much; only when you felt Minho’s inquisitive stare on your face, you panicked. Clearly you couldn’t tell him that you knew a lot of details about his life before he started being a pirate because you read it in a novel, and therefore you simply settled for a simple white lie known as: «Felix told me about it.»

«I miss my hair conditioner as well,» you admitted, «I even got the special edition with keratin – you know with the golden plastic jar and everything, and never got to use it more than twice.» for at least half of the night, you ended up explaining Minho every detail of what life was like where you were living; skyscrapers, air conditioning, electricity, supermarkets, videogames and malls, along with every kind of food you ended up craving, Minho had patiently listened to your rambles, occasionally asking about few clarifications every now and then.

«You know, princess, I still think you have flowers growing in your head.» Minho spoke after the two of you eventually managed to finish conversation topics; your heart sank to your stomach at his words, and of course, you felt like crying again.

«However…» Minho spoke again, his tone a little more firmer than before, as if he understood that his words hurt you, «your stories are a bit too much filled with details to be completely made up.»

«So?» you questioned him, glancing at him while leaning your head against the wooden surface behind your shoulders.

«So,» Minho echoed, mirroring your actions, so that you were staring at each other, «I think that somewhere in that flower field, there’s a little bit of truth.» a relieved smile erupted on your features, and you felt genuinely happy about the fact that finally Minho decided to take you seriously.

Despite the fact that you had managed to calm down, neither of you dared to move, and as you kept talking about your life, you ended up sharing your blanket with the pirate, whose hands were now as cold as ice.

Somewhere during the few hours remaining before dawn, you ended up falling asleep, unconsciously leaning against Minho’s shoulders, who didn’t move in order not to wake you up. However, as soon as the pirate saw a small glimpse of light starting to illuminate the sky as a signal of a new day, he gently picked you up just to carry you to your bedroom.

«Fucking finally, Min Min,» Felix’s groggy whisper called out from Minho’s shoulders; the younger had just woken up, and to be honest, he was convinced about being still asleep as the first thing he saw were his brother – who claimed to hate you, carrying you – who claimed to hate him, bridal style and soundly asleep towards your room. «Not a word, Lix.» Minho had simply answered, not bothering to stop.

Few days later, everyone was aware about the drastic change of Minho’s behaviour towards you, since the pirate went to completely ignore your presence to greet you occasionally. You found yourself smiling anytime it happened, your smile vanishing as soon as you could feel two different set of piercing gazes on your face; on one side, Leana was looking at you with pure excitement in her eyes, as to say «did you see it?» while on the other side, Felix was following the scene with a knowing smile, happy about his brother’s eventual change of heart.

Moreover, you had to admit to yourself that your mood was significantly better since you didn’t have to constantly watch your back, to the point where you found yourself thinking that if things kept going like this, you could have definitely got used to this new life. To be completely honest, you could already picture yourself trying to introduce some of your modern technology into this world, becoming the cliché mad scientist holed up in her laboratory, shouting a loud «it could work!» followed by a manic laughter as soon as you managed to create something useful.

Taking a small break from your daily chores, you decided to take a stroll on deck, enjoying what seemed to be the last days of summer; the days had already begun to shorten and in the back of your mind, you wondered how cold could it get on a pirate ship during winter, but you weren’t sure you wanted to know an actual answer, when out the corner of you eye, you saw them.

At first, you thought that either your mind was playing tricks on you or you were hallucinating, but once you turned your complete attention to the sea, you distinctly saw that there was a small group formed by seven girls not too far from where you were, casually sitting on some random pieces of wood – most definitely what remained of a sunken ship, while brushing their luscious hair; you narrowed your eyes as if trying to get a better view, because you could swear that all of them had a long fish tail.

“Mermaids?” you wondered; after all, you didn’t know how this world worked in the first place, and based on Minho’s accusations to you, for all you knew, they could be more than a superstition.

«Sirens!» the loud shout from the crow’s nest seemed to alert everyone, confirming that you weren’t hallucinating, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do in this situation; you saw some pirates running back to their quarters, as if it was a desperate attempt not to be lured by their voices.

Few minutes later, the situation was definitely taking a drastic and terrifying turn: some pirates were throwing themselves off deck just to try their luck swimming towards the sirens and therefore swimming towards their death, while the others kept soundlessly walking toward the railing as if they were possessed, their eyes void of any emotion.

Quirking a brow you stared at the group of sirens once again, silently admiring their beauty and their pretty tail. However something wasn’t adding up: you could clearly see their lips move, but you seemed to be the only one who couldn’t hear their chant.

Leana’s shoulder harshly bumping against yours was what made you wake up from your silent daze; like anyone else, her eyes were unfocused, and she had already thrown one leg over the railing.

«Wait, no!» yelling at her to stop, you covered her ears with your hands out of instinct, when the unthinkable happened: the fog that seemed to cloud Leana’s gaze had vanished as soon as you touched her, and she looked at both herself and you with a puzzled expression.

«What’s happening?» she questioned, confused, «why can’t I hear them?» at her question, it was as if your thoughts began to align, quickly forming a more or less clever answer; could it be that it was because you were from another dimension? You immediately tested your wild guess, wrapping around her wrist the hair tie you always kept on your wrist.

«Still nothing?» you asked, helping her safely climb back on deck, so that no one else could drag her in the water out of accident.

«I can see them singing, but I can’t hear them,» she confirmed with astonishment, glancing at the small elastic band now adorning her wrist, «is this some sort of talisman?» she questioned again but you kept silent, not sure about what you should have answered.

“Wait, if this managed to help her, this means that…”

«Leana, where are my clothes,? You know, the ones I was wearing when you found me in the sea?» you immediately questioned her: if things really were what they seemed, maybe you has a chance to save everyone.

«Come with me.» Leana immediately replied, and shortly after you both raced to the Captain’s quarters as if you were running against time.

«I have an idea, but that will make me sound like a lunatic witch» you quoted Minho, before explaining yourself, «we need to shred them in as many pieces we can and stick them inside the other’s clothes.» you kept your jeans in your hands, handing her both the cotton t-shirts you were wearing at home; however, there was no sign of mock in her eyes.

«You already saved my life, I trust you, witch or not.» she encouraged, and after nodding and each other Leana grabbed two of Chris’ daggers, and after handing one to you as well, you both ran back on deck.

“This is so wrong,” you thought, “I’m about to act like a typical heroine and I don’t have a catchphrase to say!” adrenaline was running trough your veins to the point of making you delirious, and you mentally tried to come up with an outstanding idea as fast as you could?

“How about “for Frodo”?… No, that would be plagiarism,” you kept thinking as you and Leana closed the Captain’s quarters room behind your shoulders, “I got it, “Geronimo!”… Nah, too corny.”

«I’ll take the right side and you take the left side?» Leana urged, already cutting some fabric out of your t-shirt with her dagger; she snapped you out of your thoughts, and your eyes immediately went back on the scenery in front of you.

No more than thirty pirates were left – a quarter of the crew, and much to your dismay, you noticed from the corner of your eye how Chris, Seungmin and Changbin were already in the water.

«Hey Leana, you know what we say in Europe before doing things like this?» your heart was hammering in your chest to the point you were certain it was trying to escape your body.

«Uh... May Margoria have mercy on us?» she tried, as the both of you started walking in opposite directions.

«No, no, it’s even better,» you chuckled at your own thoughts, before encouraging the both of you with a short and simple: «it’s Britney, bitch.»

From that moment, you and Leana were running like two desperate women on a mission, and you tried to ignore the pain that your heart was feeling as you were repeatedly cutting your pair of favourite jeans.

“It’s for a fucking good cause,” you thought motivating yourself, urging your legs to move faster.

Actually, if you and Leana were feeling like two heroes out of an adventure novel, the sight from the outside looked really bizarre: the deck was completely silent as the pirates were walking like zombies, and the only noise was the one made from your heels as you frantically ran back and fort, not to mention that you were occasionally screaming «tag, you’re it!» before running towards the next pirate.

Moreover, as soon as someone of the crew managed to wake up, nor you nor Leana ever stopped to explain what was going on; you just pushed a few pieces of uncommon fabric against their chest just to shout an order for them to follow. You could feel your lungs burn, and although you desperately wanted to stop and catch your breath, you saw that Minho was in the same position Leana had been in few minutes earlier and you quickly urged your legs to run faster, somehow.

“Why the fuck I never did jogging while I was home?” you internally cursed yourself, but the most important thing was that you managed to stop Minho by a harsh grip on his strong bicep. Minho’s eyes increasingly focused, and he looked at you with bewilderment; you didn’t give him time to ask anything, because you thrusted the only piece of fabric you had left in his hand.

«See this? This was my favourite pair of jeans,» you spoke, your breath ragged due to the fact that you had been running without stopping for more time than you were used to, Minho was about to question why he couldn’t hear the sirens anymore, when you interrupted him again, «let go of this damn denim fabric, and I’ll kill you.»

«What’s going on?» Minho finally questioned, swooning his leg over the railing so that he was once again safely on deck, but before you could answer, Leana had quickly walked towards you with Felix, Jisung, Hyunjin and few of the pirates who had managed to wake up, still clutching the piece of fabric as instructed.

By now, you had managed to save everyone who was still on deck, however, you still had a big problem: the majority of your crew – including the Captain, was still swimming towards the sirens.

«What now?» Leana questioned, her concerned eyes locked on her husband.

«I don’t know.» your shoulders fell as you admitted disheartened, your trembling hands still desperately holding Minho’s hands over what was left of your favourite pair of jeans. «Aren’t you still wearing that thing underneath your shirt?» Leana questioned, and your right hand reflexively touched your bra over your linen shirt. “Not my Victoria’s Secret…” you thought, but Leana quickly dismissed her own idea. «It’s not like we can throw ourselves down there, we’ll never reach them in time.» she added, and a nervous silence fell once again. The pirates kept silent, not daring to interrupt your conversation with Leana; no one knew what was happening but for all they knew, they owed their life to the both of you. However, the sirens have been focusing their attention on your presence for a while, and as you were considering some stupid and wild idea out of panic, the sirens had stopped singing; the pirates in the water woke up immediately from their daze, immediately yelling to each other to swim back to the Golden Fleece, and your head started to spin with confusion.

Apparently, for whatever reason, the sirens decided they weren’t hungry anymore, and therefore decided to leave, disappearing under the surface of water. Unbeknownst to you, those sirens knew about travelers like you, for it was not the first time that someone immune to their alluring voices had defeated them.

The pirates were now climbing on deck, and if it weren’t for Minho’s arms quickly wrapping around your waist, you would have fallen on your knees as the rush of adrenaline left your body altogether.

«What a week, huh?» you joked, your voice low enough only for the pirate to hear.

«It’s monday morning, princess.» Minho absently replied, studying your exhausted features and actually concerned about the state you were in.

Needless to say, less than an hour later – as soon as everyone had changed out of their soaked clothes, you found yourself in the Captain’s quarters with nine pair of eyes studying you once again; however, this time, the atmosphere was completely different.

«Although we are grateful to you, I believe we need an explanation.» Chris simply questioned; even though his voice remained polite, you could easily notice that he was demanding the truth.

«Are you really a witch?» Hyunjin suggested curiously and without hostility; you shook your head no, and your gaze briefly locked with Minho, who gave you a short nod, as to encourage you to tell them what you had told him as well.

«I’m not a witch, I.. » you sighed, what were you supposed to say? You definitely couldn’t break out the news that they were characters from a novel, but you could definitely tell them part of the truth, «I’m from another world. Or just another dimension, I don’t know. The thing is, at home everything works very different from here and… I really don’t know what to say. I ended up falling asleep in my house and waking up in the sea, right before you saved me.»

The room was silent for some seconds, before they eventually started discussing your explanation, but overall, everyone seemed to believe you.

«We are in your debt.» Chris announced, standing up from his chair, and you felt nervous all of a sudden; you loved his character and how reliable he was despite being a pirate, however, you always thought that he was a little bit too dramatic, especially in these kind of situations.

«No, no. We’re good buddy, really.» you anxiously waved your hands in front of you, as if to shake away the thought of having a whole crew of pirates indebted to you, «besides, you saved me first, I returned the favor, we’re even.»

«At least, allow us to help you!» Leana insisted, reiterating the fact that if they were alive was exclusively because of you.

«Do you remember how you ended up here?» Seungmin added, agreeing with Leana.

«I bought a book – a very specific one, and somehow I ended up shifting.»you had shortly explained; the information sent them into another brief discussion among themselves.

«Maybe fate is really on your side,» Chris commented, «we’ll be arriving to O’dyllita in few days; the capital – O’draxxia is known for having the biggest and best-stocked library of all known land.» the Captain explained that you could try visit there, to see if you could find anything regarding shifting dimension.

«Of course, if you don’t, you’ll be welcome to stay with us!» Jeongin had quickly added, and you found yourself nodding at his eagerness, thanking everyone else as well.

«Another thing,» Leana suddenly spoke, as if a thought had suddenly came to her mind, «who is that “Britney” you mentioned earlier? Is she a goddess from your world?» she innocently questioned, but you couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the absurdity of the situation you got yourself in.

«More or less.» you admitted, and she seemed content with the answer.

The day had eventually fallen back into the same routine rather quickly, making you realize that this kind of situations weren’t that uncommon; however, every now and then some of the pirates would greet you, thanking you for saving their life before going on with their day.

«Excuse me, princess,» an unfamiliar voice called out, and you immediately turned your head. One of the pirates was standing not so far from you; he was definitely older than you, even if despite his youthful appearance his beard and his hair was almost completely grey. He hesitantly outstretched his hand towards you, and you curiously examined the small necklace in the palm of his hand. It was definitely plain looking, a thin looking chord with a too much familiar charm attached to it; without thinking, you took a step forward to take a better look.

Turns out – for the second time that day, that you weren’t hallucinating things: the small charm was indeed a piece of fabric from your clothes, now neatly braided together as to form a tiny charm.

«My old man was a tailor, so I learned a thing or two from him,» you patiently glanced at him, waiting for him to explain himself further as you glanced back and forth from his face to his hand, «I ended up making a talisman for everyone out of the fabric you gave us, since the Captain and Leana explained to us what you did fpr us,» you kept silent, not understanding why he was handing one to you as well, «I know you don’t need one, but we want you to have one as well.»

«“We”?» you echoed; glancing around, you noticed that few other pirates were definitely pretending to do their chores just to curiously overlook the situation, wondering what your reaction might have been.

«It’s a way to tell you that you’re in the crew,» Leana excitedly spoke, appearing out of nowhere and hugging your shoulder, «you saved a whole lot of pirates, you know what it means? You’re a pirate, love.»

«What?» you questioned, hesitantly reaching out to grab the necklace from the pirate’s outstretched hand, who thanked you for accepting his humble gift.

“Holy shit, I’m the hero of the day,” you thought, trying to process the fact that a pirate had just thanked you for accepting a necklace made out of clothes from another dimension.

«For your information,» Felix’s sudden deep voice made you turn around in surprise, since the new information had made your head spin, «it was a unanimous decision.» he clarified; as you happened to lock gaze with Minho, he simply winked at you with a mischievous smile, and you could swear that for the first time, you felt the butterflies in your stomach do somersaults.

The secret escapades you occasionally had with Minho during the night ended up being a habit, and as the weather started to become colder, you eventually decided to move things to your room; more than once, you and Minho ended up falling asleep after nights spent talking about the most various topics and every time, Minho would wake up before dawn just to sneak back to his room.

«Do you still think I’m a lunatic siren?» you quietly mumbled one night, quite scared of the possible affirmative answer. Minho was sitting opposite of you on your bed, your knees almost brushing against each other’s.

«I don’t.» Minho honestly answered after what seemed to be an eternal silence; he was still staring at you with an indecipherable gaze that made you feel extremely small, but it was significantly softer now. You were certain that something in your relationship with Minho had drastically changed since the night he found you crying alone, and somehow, even if you didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, you were happy he was the one who found you nonetheless.

Above all – most importantly, since Minho’s behaviour towards you had changed and gradually started to become softer, you could swear you felt your feelings drift towards him at a slow but steady speed. To state the obvious, he was handsome, and you often found yourself looking at him as he was talking with the others on deck, the wind blowing through his hair and his clothes making him look like a runaway Prince from a fairytale; he was also funny and an extremely good listener, and the more you spent time together, the more your heart would fill with feelings for him, just like a slow tide at noon.

«Do you believe me, then?» you mumbled, as if you were trying your luck; despite you told everyone that you came from another dimension, the topic of your conversations with Minho were a secret, and he was completely aware about that. Even though you desperately wanted him to believe your words, you couldn’t help but trying to imagine how you would react if you were in Minho’s shoes and of course, you had to admit that you would have your good doses of suspicions as well.

«I’m not really sure I can understand everything you tell me,» he admitted, «but I really want to try.» you found yourself genuinely smiling at his words.

A comfortable silence fell once again, and you searched for Minho’s eyes in the partial darkness of the place; three small candles were lightning up the room, creating an intimate atmosphere while allowing you to see each other just enough. «Thank you, Min Min.» you quietly mumbled, now definitely trying your luck; you knew that the only person allowed to call him like that was Felix, and although your relationship was completely different from how it started, you were certain that he would admonish you, telling you not to call him like that.

However, Minho’s reaction was definitely unexpected; his eyes met yours in less than a second, and despite the little lighting in the room, you could clearly see a sudden blush adorning both his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

«Wait, did you just…? No, nevermind,» Minho quickly dismissed, his unexpected flustered state was more than enough to make your cheeks flare up as well, «let’s suppose you ended up coming here from another dimension, why do you think it happened?» the conversation took another bittersweet turn, and you went back staring at your knees.

«I have no idea.» you confessed, disheartened, since you had wondered about that a concerning amount of times as well.

«Do you want to go back?» Minho questioned out of curiosity; he had immediately noticed how you eventually managed to find your place among the crew, and how you got along with everyone.

«I can’t even explain how much I want to.» you admitted, and before you could actually realize it, tears had started to escape your eyes.

«Hey, don’t cry, I’m sorry I brought that up,» Minho seemed to move towards you as if he had been hurt by a sudden static, «I didn’t want to make you cry.» he mumbled again, wiping your tears away as gently as he could, touching you as if you were made of frail glass despite his usual roughness. Eventually, he placed your pillow over his lap and you let him adjust your position enough that you could lay your head over it.

Minho kept gently stroking your hair with clumsy yet gentle movements – clearly unfamiliar with intimacy, lulling you to sleep while mumbling that «it’s okay, I’ll help you find a way,» or even «don’t cry, pretty princess, you’re safe now.»

That night was the first time that you and Minho willingly got so close physically, and you never expected for his touch to feel as comforting as it did; although you had stopped crying few minutes after you were laying on his lap, you didn’t want for that interaction to stop, and therefore you laid there, greedily taking all the unexpected affection Minho was showering you with.

Two days later, you were officially touching land; two days later, you were completely certain about the fact that you had shifted dimension – since there was a tiny part of your heart that still hoped you were having a really weird dream.

The port was large and full of people busy working; you looked around in amazement admiring everything: the small stalls of the market a little further on, people’s clothes, the type of architecture of the houses… However, something didn’t add up once again. There were various wooden signs hanging on the stalls, price indicators or more simply indicators of what could be found in each one of them, and despite the fact that the alphabet was a strange combination o weird symbols you’ve never seen in your life, you could understand them; fabrics, groceries, swords, you could read everything, was it another special ability you gained while shifting? “This is crazy,” you thought as you kept looking around yourself, “it’s like I chosen a default language in a videogame.”

Minho seemed to have noticed the puzzled expression on your face as you were glancing around, and quickly got to your side. «Not like it’s important for us, but can you read and write?» he questioned, watching as you hesitantly nodded at him.

«I’m not sure about the writing part,» you answered, looking around and not quite believing your eyes, «but it turns out I can read!»

«That’s good,» Minho’s sudden gentle smile made you feel incredibly flustered, and you shortly played with your fingertips since you didn’t know what you were supposed to answer, «I’ll see you tonight, then.» he added, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Before you could question his words, Leana and Chris had joined you, the latter informing you that he had already booked a carriage for both you and Leana.

“That’s it? They’re going to leave me here?” you met Minho’s gaze, just to switch it quickly towards Leana, who had reached out to hold your hand, gently tugging you towards her.

«I believe someone forgot to tell you,» she said, admonishing Minho with a stern gaze, «O’draxxia, the Capital, is a city in which men cannot enter, meaning that we have all the day for ourselves!»

The carriage ride lasted a little more than an hour, and both you and Leana kept staring out of the window, amazed by the scenery surrounding the two of you; it was the first time for Leana as well to venture into O’dyllita, and just like you, she was overly excited to finally visit O’draxxia, since she had often heard about it.

«From what I know, almost everyone in the city is a priestess,» she had explained, the two of you never looking at each other since your attention was completely engrossed towards opposite directions, «and they say the library is so huge that there are pillars as big as towers that are used as bookshelves!»

Despite the dense and rich vegetation, the landscape seemed to have a tremendously lonely air; in the distance you could see ruins of old structures that looked like castles or fortresses, clearly uninhabited and reclaimed by vegetation. Overall, the landscape almost seemed fiabesque, even if you couldn’t glimpse a trace of a living soul for kilometres. Just as Leana had said, O’draxxia was entirely populated by women, and all of them looked mesmerizing and stunning; some of them greeted you and Leana with a court nod, just like they did with the other women that were visiting the city. Despite the fact that the city was populated and animated by the priestesses and occasional tourists, the city gave you a serene yet lonely feeling. The houses were simple and elegant, made of grey bricks with bright green plants growing along the walls, covering some parts with elegant red and orange flowers. Both you and Leana followed one of the priestess’ indications to reach the library, as the two of you kept glancing around in utter wonder as you were walking.

«I’m really glad we get along,» Leana spoke out of the blue as you were strolling around town, headed towards the library, interlocking her arm with yours; you sent her a glance, only to start once again to focus on the unfamiliar scenery in front of your eyes, «we tried to let other girls on our ship, but it didn’t end well.»

«Why not?» you questioned out of curiosity, your gaze still focused on the unfamiliar flowers decorating the streets; the novel you’ve read ended as soon as Chris and Leana got their happy ending, so her words were definitely something you didn’t know about.

«They ended up liking Chris a little bit too much, and you know…» the innocent smile on Leana’s lips was a stark contrast to the gesture she made: she ran her index finger over her neck horizontally, and you suddenly widened your eyes, gulping nervously.

«You… did you kill them?» you whispered, only for her ears to hear, not quite knowing how to feel about it.

«And threw them in the sea,» she proudly clarified with a wink, «for all I know, they could be the sirens that attacked us.» her tone was as nonchalant as if she was talking about the weather, and you furrowed your eyebrows, familiar with what she was implying, since you clearly recalled the author mentioning it once.

Apparently, mermaids – or mostly known as sirens, were the women thrown off ships because of the common belief about “having a woman on boat brings bad luck”, and therefore, as those poor women sank to the bottom of the sea, they committed themselves to their rage and their desire of revenge. You clearly remember how that paragraph made you quite uncomfortable, empathizing with those women as they rightfully wanted to take revenge on the people that killed them without reason. Moreover, the author described how they started to change underwater, their lungs adapting to the water until they could breathe and their tied legs eventually became a tail over time. They drowned sailors and pirates in revenge, but especially, they seem to target the crew that did them wrong, until they could see the remaining of their ships at the bottom of the sea.

All of a sudden, one of your first conversations with Leana came to your mind. «So, what do you think about Chris?» she had questioned with an earnest smile, the both of you sitting on deck as you watched him ordering the others around.

«He’s awesome,» you immediately answered, excitedly, «Felix told me he’s in charge of each route of the whole sea, and he’s basically around my age. He’s really awesome for that!» you had excitedly explained, avoiding to mention too intricate details you read in the novel.

«He really is, don’t steal him from me though!» she had laughed back then, gently nudging your shoulders with hers in an almost friendly gesture.

«I wouldn’t dare,» you immediately scoffed, «you’re basically the perfect match! moreover, he’s not really my type.»

Only now you realized all the things that could have gone so incredibly wrong if your interaction had gone wrong back then, and you glanced at her once again. Leana was now gazing around the town in amazement, since you knew that she had never been here as well; you instinctively scoffed a laugh, to thing that you believed Minho was the biggest threat among the crew.

Not to mention that the surprises were definitely not over; shortly after, Leana asked you if you believed in soulmates.

«I think I do,» you confessed; it was definitely one of your favourite genres to read about, but you couldn’t admit that to her, «why?»

«I’ve been thinking about it lately, but I never had anyone to talk about it…» she admitted.

“I wonder why,” you silently commented, but kept silent.

«Sometimes I have the feeling that me and Chris were meant to be, you know?» she fondly smiled, her gaze lost somewhere in the scenery around the two of you as she was probably recalling one of the various memories she had created with her husband; you were about to answer something encouraging and motivational, when her next words definitely made your voice die in your throat. «I mean, I didn’t even like Chris when he brought me on the ship, let alone if I could imagine myself falling in love with him or even marrying him.» she admitted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait a fucking minute now,”

«What?» you asked in complete disbelief. Once again, you perfectly recalled you read that Chris and Leana were in love before she got romantically and dramatically stolen away from him; to be precise, Leana was engaged to another man, who she didn’t love.

However, Leana was standing in front of you, telling you a completely different part of the story, making you question if the things you’ve read on your couch were correct in the first place.

«I was engaged with an officer of the navy, and I loathed pirates at first; I accepted to go with Chris because I agreed with my fiancée that I would have made Chris vulnerable in some way.» Leana hesitantly confessed, and you couldn’t bring yourself to find an actual reply, «in the end I fell for him little by little, to the point where I couldn’t imagine my life without him.»

“What the hell,” you thought; you had stopped walking altogether, and were simply standing still in silence, a whirlwind of thoughts floating around your head as you were staring at Leana. You never read something like this in the book, but if we had to be honest, the book was following Chris’ point of view, but again, by the way Leana was described, she was meant to be the typical damsel in distress that runs away from an unhappy relationship to find her love.

However, in front of you stood Leana, a damsel that was very not in distress, a damsel who had a concerning series of murders weighting on her shoulders, whose original plan was to serve Chris’ head to the navy.

«I’m glad you married him,» you ended up blurting out, «you look really cute together.» Leana loudly laughed at your unexpected comment, and as the two of you started walking again, she hugged your arm a little closer to her side.

«Wanna know who’s cute?» her teasing tone made you sigh out of reflex, not sure whether you wanted to know the answer to her question, «You and Min Min.» she chanted, making you whine as an answer.

«I don’t like him like that, let’s just – let’s talk about it another time, okay?» you pleaded, hoping that she would fall for your suggestion so that you could keep avoiding the topic forever.

The moment you stepped in front of the library’s entrance, you couldn’t believe your eyes: it was as if a huge castle had been redecorated just to serve a new and better purpose. Leana didn’t lie when she said about the pillars being huge, and the more you ventured in, the more you felt overwhelmed; you loved books, and for a second, you thought that you could become a priestess just to have a chance to read every single book you could see, even if it would have took literally a lifetime. In the end, you ended up asking to a priestess for help, since you would have taken at least a whole day in order to find some useful information without asking for help.

«Books about teleportation?» the priestess had repeated your words, as if making sure she heard you loud and clear; you hesitantly nodded, feeling incredibly small under her gaze; she eventually nodded at the two of you, asking to follow her. Needless to say, you ended up walking your way on the stairs around one of the pillars, just to reach the highest bookshelf.

«It’s been a while since someone asked for that,» she said, trying to make conversation with the two of you, but only Leana was answering her various questions, since you were way too nervous to speak. As you reached the bookshelf, your shoulders immediately lowered in deject; there were only four books about teleportation, but no one of them were like the one you brought.

«Sadly, we only have these ones.» the priestess excused herself, quickly taking notice of your saddened expression; you immediately tried to smile, shaking your head and answering that it was okay.

«Are you sure you’re okay?» Leana whispered to you, as soon as the priestess begun to walk down the stairs on her own and was now out of sight; your gaze was still on the books, which you eventually tried to examine.

What if the cover was different because you were in a different dimension? However, as your fingers leafed through the pages, you couldn’t understand your feelings; you almost seemed happy about the fact that your task had failed, as if what you really wanted was to remain into this world.

«I am,» you nodded, seeing Leana’s concern vanish from her features, «I really am.»

The fact that your mission had failed meant only one thing: you and Leana were free to curiously look around as you pleased, and that’s exactly what you did. At the end of the day, once you were back in the carriage, you could swear you almost had a headache due to all the informations the both of you had tried to assimilate in your brain.

«What was that one again? Flat parsley and saffron?» she mumbled, massaging the side of her head.

«This planet is not flat was the first part,» you tiredly answered, mimicking her actions, «I don’t know where you got the parsley and saffron thing from.»

«It was the recipes book I wanted to steal.» she urged, trying to give you another hint, as if you hadn’t read an infinite quantitative of books within few hours.

«Oh, that one,» you hummed, recalling the moment where Leana had tried to see if the recipes book would fit under her shirt, saying that Felix would have loved it, «it was the recipe of saffron rice… There was no parsley, though.»

When you got off the carriage, Minho and Chris exchanged a quizzical glance as they saw the two of you look exhausted; both of you were dragging your feet towards them, talking with a flat tone about how amazing your day had been.

«Found anything?» Minho questioned, ignoring how his heart was beating in a silent hope that you didn’t manage to find the book you were looking for; you kept walking, silently shaking your head. Minho didn’t say anything as he walked up next to you; the pirate breathed a soft sigh, swinging his arm around your shoulders and instinctively you hugged his waist, leaning your head towards his shoulder.

«You’ll find it.» you heard Minho’s reassuring tone, and you shrugged in a silent answer.

“I think it will be okay, even if I don’t.” you secretly thought, glancing at the pirate walking next to you.

Out of your sight, Chris and Leana were glancing both at you and Minho, before looking at each other.

«Am I hallucinating?» Chris questioned his wife; he knew that things between you and the pirate had improved, but he didn’t imagine they had improved that much.

«I think we’ll be celebrating another marriage soon.» Leana sighed, fondly smiling at the two of you. «“I don’t like Minho”, my ass.» she scoffed, mumbling to herself as an amused smirk erupted on her lips, recalling the moment you denied liking the pirate.

That night, you found out that Chris not only owned every single soul sailing above the sea, he also owned few taverns scattered around the land as well.

You and the others had ended up in the courtyard of a local tavern – the Bitter Dahlia, the musicians animatedly creating a joyful atmosphere as few people had eventually started to dance. You had let yourself convince to try a whole lot different kind of drinks by Hyunjin, and now you were tipsily strolling around the courtyard with a pint of beer in your hand, and thankfully, Minho had easily noticed it; that’s why as soon as you walked past him in order to find Felix, he reached out, placing his hand on your right shoulder and tugging you close to his body, your back pressed against his chest. You didn’t realize it was Minho at first, you simply pouted because someone was stopping you all of a sudden; when you decided to find out who was attached to the arm blocking your path you giggled as soon as you saw Minho’s face, and let him pull you closer to him.

Minho didn’t say anything, and neither did you – nor did you move away in the first place.

«I think you drank too much, princess,» his hoarse voice – probably affected by the drinks he had, spoke right against your ear, and you instinctively crossed your ankles just to press your thighs together; you let him take the pint of beer from your hand, his arm eventually found his way around your waist, and he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

«Felix!» you giggled, catching a hold of the boy’s forearm as soon as you saw him walk by, tugging him towards both you and Minho, «Look at them,» you excitedly spoke, «look at them!» you urged again, giggling excitedly as you obviously forgot that Minho was right behind you and therefore he could hear everything.

Even if he was in a worse state than you were, it didn’t take a genius for Felix to understand who you were talking about, and he followed your glance towards the small group of couples that were dancing; of course Chris and Leana were there, and of course you and Felix had felt the need to talk about how wonderful and amazing they looked.

«They’re both stumbling on their feet,» Minho had stated from behind you, holding your waist a little firmer, and you suddenly reminded that he had been unconsciously made part of your secret conversations with Felix, «they’re really drunk, like – three sheets to the wind drunk.» he clarified, amused with your behaviour.

«You don’t understand,» you quickly answered, your hand flying on top of the one the pirate had placed on your hip, «look at -» your voice vanished from your throat as soon as you turned your head towards him, and instead, your heart picked up pace at a concerning speed; Minho’s face was millimetres from yours, his gaze burning into yours, «them.» you eventually finished, your voice barely above a whisper. You and Minho had already been close enough to kiss once, but to say that the situation was completely different would be an understatement.

If back then neither you nor Minho would have considered the option to kiss the other – let alone being attracted to each other, to this day things had drastically changed. Even if you blamed it on the alcohol, you were very much aware about the fact that you would have loved to kiss him; the fact that Minho’s gaze kept shifting between your eyes and your lips clearly told you that your desire was reciprocated.

“If this was a movie we would make out while Céline Dion was singing her heart out in the background,” you drunkenly thought, “and all I get is drunk bards play the tarantella”.

«Well, this is something unexpected!» Jisung’s loud voice made you and Minho immediately turn your head towards him, and much to your embarrassment, he wasn’t alone; of course Changbin and Hyunjin were with him.

«She’s tipsy, I didn’t want her to fall over.» Minho had immediately answered, his voice a little bit too defensive if you were to ask Hyunjin, who carefully – and drunkenly, studied his expression with a sly smirk.

«And the empty chair next to you was claimed by a ghost?» Jisung questioned the pirate, who rolled his eyes without answering.

However, the worst still had to happen, because in that very moment, Leana seemed to appear out of thin air, as if she had magically listened to the conversation while she was dancing with her husband.

«You didn’t hear it from me,» Leana loudly announced as if you and Minho weren’t there, «but when we returned from O’draxxia, Minho straight up hugged her.» You felt Minho bury his forehead in the crook of your neck, and you shortly met Felix’s gaze, who was looking at you with a drunk dazed smile: «We better talk about this!» he said.

«And, he also kissed her forehead.» Leana lied, getting drunk shouts of surprise from your friends, and you knew that as soon as you got back on the ship, you and Minho would become the most interesting topic among the crew.

«Want to scoot over?» Minho spoke against your ear once again, and you found your mind drifting towards unholy thoughts before you could stop yourself; his question was sincere, and as he voiced it, he started to move his arm away from your hip. However, you didn’t bother to voice an answer; since your hand was still placed above his, you pushed it more firmly against your hip, purposely intertwining your fingers together.

As you felt Minho’s lips hovering above the exposed skin of your shoulder in a barely perceptible kiss, you could swear that all the noise coming from the loud party around the two of you had been ignored from your brain.

Back on the Golden Fleece, everything seemed to have fallen back to the usual routine, with the only addiction that your friends had decided to constantly tease you and Minho about your almost kiss.

Of course, even if three days had passed since that night and Minho had visited your bedroom as always, no one dared to approach the topic, and you kept dancing on your tiptoes around each other. However, what’s a princess without a fairy godmother?

That evening, right after dinner, Felix had bursted into your room unannounced, somewhat expecting Leana’s presence as well; the two of them were casually sitting on your bed, ignoring the fact that you were curled up under the covers, refusing to get out and face them.

«Well?» Felix urged, lowering the blanket just to expose your face; you hissed like a stray cat, but you quickly understood that neither of them was going to leave without an answer to the same question.

«I don’t have anything to say,» you stubbornly said, and you heard Leana snort.

«Okay, we’ll go first:» she spoke, leaning towards you, «I was drunk but I sure do have eyes, girl.» she spoke with an alluring tone, and you tried to roll over the opposite side in order not to hear her, «and my eyes are telling me that you like Minho, and Minho likes you.» choosing to groan instead of answer, Felix saw an opportunity to chime in.

«You were still dancing when it happened, but they almost kissed – like, kissed.» Felix added, empathizing the last part of his sentence, and Leana almost shrieked in disbelief, her offended voice questioning why you didn’t tell her such an important and fundamental detail.

«Did you tell him?» Felix questioned, just to add the question you didn’t dare to ask yourself, «Oh… Do you still want to go back home?» You eventually threw the blanket off your face hearing that, meeting your friends’ eyes as your face was filled with unsure doubt; you never thought it would have happened, but you had to admit to yourself that you were happy. You had friends, you felt accepted, and you managed to have fun thanks to your friends, who cherished you. Moreover…

«I don’t really want to hurt your feelings,» Leana suddenly spoke, interrupting your thoughts, «but when we were in O’draxxia and you didn’t find the book, you almost looked… relieved.» your gaze met, and you realized you had a problem: your heart was clearly telling that you wanted to stay there, in that absurd world you’ve read about one random afternoon.

When you met Felix’s gaze, you realized you had another problem, maybe a bigger one than the previous one: you liked Minho. Well, of course you already knew that, since he was your favourite character of the novel; however, liking the real Minho, the one daily standing in front of you, the one who went from threatening to throw you overboard to gently caress your hair until you fell asleep was a different kind of thing.

«I think I need a second.» you admitted with a sigh, staring at the wooden tiles on the ceiling,

“Let’s suppose I like him,” you thought, “I don’t think he actually likes me, he was probably tipsy,” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “what if he likes me and I like him and I find the book?” you scratched the back of your neck out of frustration, ignoring the fact that you wanted to scream, “what do I do?”

«Well, you could start with a simple “I think I have feelings for you and I don’t think I want to go back any longer”» Felix gently suggested, and as your gaze flew towards his, you realized that you had been unconsciously voicing your thoughts all along.

The same moment Felix was heading towards your room, Minho was heading towards the dining room, knowing that he would have found what he was looking for. The heavy smell of smoke and alcohol filled his nostrils, as he approached his friends’ table quietly.

«Loverboy decided to ditch his girl to embrace his old habits?» Chris glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

«I’m coming here in spite of myself, but I… have to.» Minho spoke in a dramatic tone that made Chris snort, waiting for his friend to tell them what was going through his mind, «I think I might like her.»

«We knew it already,» Hyunjin replied with no interest, his eyes still glued on his cards, admonishing Jisung because he was trying to sneak some of the coins off the table and inside his sleeve; Minho stared at his friend with stupor, but Hyunjin seemed too focused on their match to pay attention to his friend.

«"Like her" as in, “I want to hold your hand under the moonlight”,» Changbin – the only one beside Chris who was listening to Minho, suggested, «or “I want to ravish you until you can’t stand”?»

Minho didn’t answer immediately, choosing to think about it for a while, even if he didn’t really have to; he undoubtedly found you attractive, and over time, he found himself slowly getting incredibly soft for you, to the point where he would glance around at random moments of the day just to see what you were doing.

The more Minho’s silence went on, the more his friends had gradually stopped focusing on their match in order to look at him with curiosity and malice, enjoying how the pirate’s face gradually got flustered.

«As in… both.» Minho confessed, making his friends hum and mumble in acknowledgement.

«Ah! … Well, we knew that already.» Hyunjin replied again, his sharp gaze once again back to the table in front of them.

«What do you mean?» Minho asked quizzically, since it was the second time his friend had mentioned it.

«Yeah, well, remember when Jisung was teaching her the basic of self defence?» Seungmin – who had kept silent until then, asked making Minho immediately nod, how could he forget that day? Jisung had been trying to teach you a few simple movements for what seemed to be hours, but in the end, you kept doing stupid and predictable mistakes because you seemed to be too tense to use a dagger – let alone a sword.

«Leave it, Han, she’ll end up stabbing herself by mistake.» he had told his friend with an arrogant tone, and he clearly remembered the flustered expression on your face. As always, you tried to fight back, but this time it was a little bit different; that’s how you ended up chasing Minho through the deck while screaming «I’ll fucking kill you, I swear!» until Changbin decided to stop you by stopping you mid run.

«What about it?» Minho asked again, not understanding what his friend wanted to imply.

«Felix and few other saw you laughing,» Seungmin added, «therefore, it was just a matter of time.»

Minho placed his elbow on the table and roughly massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to analyse the situation he was in: he liked you, but what happened few nights ago was just a result of the both of you being tipsy, and moreover, he knew that you wanted to go back home. What was he supposed to do?

«I’m not an expert, but try with a simple “I like you, please stay here with me”.» Jisung had spoken as if he could read his thoughts; only then Minho realized that he had never been silent in the first place.

Minho had eventually joined you in your bedroom few hours after Felix and Leana had left, even if you had already stated that he either fell asleep or he was spending the night gambling with the others. You seemed to miss his presence more than you usually did, especially because that night you were freezing: no matter how many blankets you were laying under, you just didn’t seem to warm up.

“It wouldn’t be punk rock for me to die like this,” you thought, breathing in your joined fists as you tried to ignore the constant shivers of your body.

A familiar knock on the door caught your attention, and as soon as you recognized Minho’s voice whispering his greetings, you had to physically stop yourself from asking him to join you under the covers so that he could warm you up.

Unlike you, Minho didn’t seem to mind the cold that much, but nonetheless he quickly walked up to you, pressing the palm of his hand to your forehead just in case you had a fever.

«I’m genuinely wondering how the hell you manage to live like this.» you broke the silence, your jaw trembling because of the sheer cold; although you tried not to think to the accommodation of your original life, your mind couldn’t help but wander to your beloved electric heater, your faithful companions during winter.

«You just ... get used to it?» Minho questioned back, not really able to give you an actual answer; of course, during the first years he spent sailing he was in the same situation as you – everyone had, but he eventually got used to it. Minho sat on the edge of your bed, mindlessly running his fingertips through your hair – a simple yet intimate gesture he had come to love.

«I can hear flowers blooming in that flower field,» he smugly commented the fact that you were keeping silent, and you clicked your tongue, asking what he meant, «what did you use in your world to keep warm?» he curiously questioned, and your heart soared at the realization that he was honestly and genuinely interested in your stories.

However, you were too cold for your brain to function properly, and you ended up talking about the concept of the electric heating in a very confusing way; nonetheless, Minho didn’t seem to mind you words, for his concern had increasingly risen.

«Hey,» the pirate interrupted your explanation, «are you sure you don’t want another blanket?» despite the fact that you were doing your best, he still noticed the occasional shivers and clattering of your teeth as soon as you stopped speaking.

«It’s okay,» you reassured him, «I used all the blankets Leana gave me… I’ll warm up eventually.» you answered hopefully, but Minho didn’t answer immediately; instead, he reached out, shortly enveloping your hand with his just to comment that it was as if you had stuck your hand into ice.

«Come here,» Minho said, stretching over your legs and fully sitting on your bed with his back against the wall, widening his legs so that he could form a space for you to sit in; you kept still in amazed astonishment, not quite trusting your thoughts on the hypothesis that Minho wanted to cuddle.

«Are you gonna kill me?» you blurted out, for your frozen brain decided it was the most likely solution.

«Quit that, princess,» he clicked his tongue, urging you to come closer, «you know we’re past that.» folding all your blankets around your shape, you slowly crawled in the space he made for you, trying not to lose the small amount of warmth you had created; you immediately tensed up, sitting straight and clutching the blankets closer to your body.

Since the night you almost kissed, you had never been so close to Minho, and for some reason, it was enough for your heart to pick up pace as if it was begging you to set it free through your ribcage.

«Come here,» the pirate repeated, his voice a little gentler – a little softer, and you found yourself leaning against his torso. Unlike you, Minho wasn’t using a blanket to keep himself warm and therefore he could move his arms freely; of course he used them to loosely cage you in his hold.

Although you had to admit that the position you were in definitely looked kind of weird, it was extremely comfortable; Minho’s steady breathing was slowly calming your nerves as well, and you found yourself relaxing in his hold.

«Do you want some of my blankets?» you mumbled quietly, embarrassed about the fact that you didn’t ask sooner.

«I’m good.» Minho answered immediately, gently repeating that you should try to sleep.

Despite the fact that you were comfortable, despite Minho’s presence, despite the fact that you were slowly warming up, sleep was definitely your last priority. The pirate’s nose brushed against your forehead as he was trying to adjust his position to get more comfortable, and you quickly noticed that his skin was cold as well.

«Minho,» you called out again few minutes later; the pirate hummed, and you took it at a silent question to go on, «can we please share blankets?»

«Why?» he chuckled at your distress, and you could feel his soft breath in the side of your face. «You look cold,» you tried to justify yourself, «I have a lot of blankets, we can share.» you insisted.

Minho eventually gave up, and the both of you ended up shifting from your original position; however, this meant that your arms were touching as you were now laying next to each other, and there wasn’t a blanket you could use as an invisible barrier anymore.

Under the sea of sheets, Minho’s right arm snaked under your neck, pulling you to his body; as if you were magnets, you followed his lead, laying on your side and hugging his waist, resting your head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling as close as you could. Your nose was right against Minho’s neck, and you could almost feel the goosebumps he had whenever you breathed; you ended up blaming it on the cold temperature, since you were fond of keeping your mental sanity and you were madly trying to distract yourself from thinking about other ways to share body heat.

«You know, once we got stuck in the middle of an iced part of the sea,» Minho mumbled, talking about one of his adventures as if he was trying to prevent his mind from wandering towards the same sinful thoughts you were trying to avoid.

«What?» you hummed, too tired to try remembering if you read about it in the novel, «How did you get out of there?»

«Ropes,» was his immediate answer, «we ended up pulling on the rope until we could break the ice.»

«Like that “Vikings” episode,» you giggled to yourself in a tired voice; Minho had immediately questioned you about it, and you tried to explain to him what movies and TV shows were.

However, you were obliviously fighting falling asleep, reason why Minho ended up gently shutting you up with a gentle and earnest: «you’ll tell me about it tomorrow.»

As always you fell asleep first, but this time, when Minho moved you so that you could lay on your bed to sleep more comfortably and he could walk back to his room, you weakly grabbed his hand in your sleep.

«I get lonely if you’re not here.» you mumbled, still lost in dreamland. Minho was thankful to the lights being completely off and to you being asleep because the expression on his face was priceless: he was incredibly flustered, his blush was flaring up both his cheeks and the tip of his ears. That night, Minho slept next to you for the first time, and as you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you found him laying next to you under the sea of blankets; you instinctively snuggled closer to his chest, only to realize that you were partially laying on top of his firm chest. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, you tried to scoot away as quietly as you could in order not to wake him up, just to lay next to him.

However, that was your initial plan, since you soon found out that Minho was indeed a light sleeper; the arm he kept around your waist had tightened out of reflex, harshly pulling you in your original position once again.

«Where do you think you’re going, princess?» he murmured, his voice still groggy due to sleep.

«I, uhm…» you hesitated, your brain was clearly too sleepy to come up with a clever and witty answer. Minho didn’t wait for you to find your words, though; keeping you close to his body, he gently rolled you on your back, partially draping his body over yours instead.

«Go back to sleep,» he murmured again, easing his left leg between yours, and nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“He’s a cuddler?” you wondered in pleased surprise; your hand eventually ended up in his hair, running your fingertips trough it and trying to lull him back to sleep.

However, Minho found it impossible to fall asleep again, judging your wild heartbeat hammering right under his ear; he glanced up towards the small window in your room, and quickly deduced that it was still the middle of the night, meaning that you didn’t get to sleep much in the first place.

If at first he had tried to lull you back to sleep while caressing your hip in a loving manner, he quickly realized that his touch had quite the opposite effect on you; he also had to admit that the sudden proximity of your body and the position that you were in was making him significantly riled up as well.

«Can’t sleep?» he asked, shortly rubbing his eyes with his fingertips in order to get rid of sleep as fast as he could, deciding that you didn’t have to stay awake on your own; you settled for humming affirmatively at his question, and Minho effortlessly pushed himself up, partially balancing his weight on his right elbow so that he his face was hovering above yours. Due to the change of position, his thigh was firmly pressed between your legs, and you forced yourself to swallow a whimper as his knee slightly dipped in the mattress.

Despite the poor lightning, you could feel his gaze on your features, as if he was trying to see through the darkness; you were clearly trying to do the same, and another silence fell as the Golden Fleece was constantly rocking your body while gently following the rhythm of the night sea.

«Do you think the flowers growing in your head are contagious?» Minho blurted out all of a sudden, his left hand mindlessly running up your side in a gentle yet firm touch, «I think I might go back on my thoughts of you not being a siren.» he quietly added; you didn’t answer – your senses about to go overdrive due to all the different kind of constant stimulation added to the comfortable warmth of his body, settling for humming yet again, silently asking him to go on.

Minho ran his left hand from your side to your neck, and eventually started to run his fingertip over your features, delicately brushing over your skin ever so lightly, touching you as if you were some precious treasure he unexpectedly found in the middle of the sea.

«You have completely driven me mad,» Minho confessed with an earnest voice, his fingertips brushing over your cheekbones, «with affection,» he added, his touch brushing over the bow on your upper lip, «with desire,» you found yourself weakly gripping at the front his shirt as soon as you heard his hoarse voice overflowing with the feelings he was talking about, «to the point where I know I should want you to be happy, but I keep wanting – I keep craving, that you could find your happiness with me.» Minho’s confession made your head spin; you wanted to answer that his feelings were completely reciprocated, answer that you didn’t found happiness with Minho – you found a home. However, your voice died in your throat as soon as the pirate had leaned in, his lips hovering barely above yours, yet almost constantly brushing together due to the ship’s movement.

«I am completely enamoured of everything about you,» Minho had whispered then, making you suddenly tighten the loose grip you had on his shirt to the point that the necklace he had been wearing since they day you saved the crew from the sirens’ had fallen out of the collar, now dangling between your bodies, «your body, your personality, the crazy flower field in your head, princess, I – I don’t want you to go back.»

Your heart was overflowing with a different mix of feelings, but the happiness of your feelings being reciprocated seemed to prevail. «I stopped wanting to go back since me and Leana returned from O'draxxia.» was what you admitted out loud, your voice trembling due to all the sudden emotions that were almost setting your soul on fire.

Only then you leaned in – trusting your body more then your words, capturing the pirate’s lips in a timid first kiss, filling it with all the love you felt for the pirate. Minho returned your gesture immediately, kissing your lips slowly, tentatively, over and over again as he was trying to savour you, shortly kissing your lips just to drift his attention elsewhere and kissing your cheek, your nose, your chin, as if he was trying not to lose himself to the lust he was feeling. The kiss had eventually started to heathen when Minho leaned in to kiss you, just for you to run your fingertips through his hair and harshly closing your hand in a fist against his nape, tugging him closer to you and preventing him from running away, so that you could delicately running your tongue on his lower lip.

Minho’s kisses started to get less cherishing and more passionate, occasionally leaving a path of open mouthed kisses on your neck, his knee digging further in the mattress anytime he moved and creating the kind of friction you were honestly about to beg for. It was as if you were a small ship adrift caught up in a sudden storm; Minho kept worshipping your body and all you could do in that moment was to take, take and take, hoping that as soon as the storm had passed you wouldn’t have completely fallen into madness, wishing to stumble right in another one because you felt addicted to the rush of adrenaline. As your kisses grew hotter, so did your bodies and eventually, the sea of blankets you were covered with was progressively being scattered either on the floor or in a corner of your bed.

On deck, the sight of the sun about to rise in the distance was in stark contrast to the light drizzle that had started to fall, the sound of rain echoing on the wooden tiles and absorbing the faint noises of the pirates waking up for the morning shift; in your bedroom, Minho’s hair felt like gentle rain falling on your body everytime the pirate leaned down to kiss your skin as he was undressing you.

“Well, fuck,” you thought, admitting to yourself that Minho was definitely both a good and experienced lover. He had patiently took his sweet time to pay extreme attention to your body, studying how reacted to his different touches as if he was making up for all the lost time, occasionally showering you with praises as his head was nestled between your legs and he was lapping at your clit, making you quicklytumble on your first orgasm of the night. It had definitely been a long time since you had sex with someone, your boring routine had never actually given you an opportunity to meet new people – let alone think about a relationship, but you weren’t expecting Minho to act so smug about it.

As your bodies were finally connected,Minho had sneaked one arm under your waist while steadily moving his hips against yours, harshly pulling it upwards so that your back would be a little more arched and your naked bodies would be pressed together even more; once again, you were greedily taking everything Minho was giving you, helplessly running your fingernails on his back deep enough you would leave marks, beaming yourself in the feeling of his low moans and the goosebumps erupting on his skin out of reflex.

«Going dumb on me for this little action, princess?» Minho’s hoarse voice was filled with desire as he spoke, his hips gradually slowing until his movements came to a stop; you immediately whimpered loudly at the lack of friction, trying to move your hips in circles because you were desperately to create it on your own. You wanted to feel more, you wanted for that moment to never end. As you kept your movements slow and rhythmic – you had to admit that Minho still hoisting you up was doing half of the job, you grabbed the necklace sill dangling between the two of you with your left hand, harshly tugging it and therefore bringing Minho’s face closer to yours.

«Do you ever shut up?» you answered instead, the nails of your right hand – still gripping at his shoulders, were most definitely digging half moon shapes in his skin, and you felt proud of yourself for not ending up whimpering with need somewhere along your sentence; even if it was probably dawn already, you couldn’t see him clearly yet, but it didn’t take a wild guess for you to know that he was smirking at your words.

«I don’t know, do I?» he challenged, shortly capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, starting once again to move his hips to meet your movements.

«Ruin me, Minho,» you urged, keeping him close to you with your grip on the necklace, «I want to be yours,» you confessed then, your body slowly about to lose itself to the momentary euphoria of another orgasm, «I don’t want you to be anybody else’s but mine.»

«Do you think we can sleep in?» you mumbled, tired; you could both clearly hear that it was raining, and you desperately wished for your alone time with Minho to continue for few more hours; you were now laying in bed, lovingly cuddling in your post orgasm bliss.

«I’m on duty this morning,» Minho replied, caressing the bare skin of your shoulder, and admitting that he would have loved to spend the day like this; eventually, you and Minho woke up, washed up and got ready for your day.

Of course, during the day, the pirate had used any excuse to drive you in a corner of the Golden Fleece and kiss you as desperately as if it was your last time. Of course, you couldn’t escape a certain pair of eyes.

“Oh no, here they come, Sauron and Sauron jr.” you thought, chuckling to yourself as you saw Felix and Leana approaching with big and quick steps; you found it hard to contain your laughter, since they were lightly pushing and pulling each other as if both of them wanted to know first.

«Congratulations on the sex!» Leana had mischievously commented, and you immediately reached out to press your hand against her lips in a vain attempt to let everyone on the Golden Fleece know about your early morning activities, «you have hickeys everywhere.» you heard her mutter against your skin.

«Are you finally official?» Felix questioned, secretly happy to have you as a sister in law; you didn’t immediately reply, since you and Minho didn’t clarify it out loud.

However, as your gaze shortly wondered to your lover, who was continuously walking around on deck while changing his destination every now and then as he was trying to avoid Hyunjin’s Jisung’s and Changbin’s teasing – they were literally tailing him and occasionally trying to widen the collar of his shirt just to see «where do these scratches on your nape come from? Is there a stray cat on board or something?», you found yourself smiling gently at the sight.

«We are.» you confirmed, a smile on your face as you finally felt happy.

A month later, you and Minho were definitely official: he moved to your bedroom, and you managed to fit in your small bed nonetheless. You both spent your days doing your chores, and your nights enjoying your affection, either making love until you were exhausted or talking until you were on the verge to fall asleep.

Minho wanted to know everything about you, every single detail that you didn’t consider important, and you felt cherished, since you knew that no one had ever loved you like that. Actually, you wanted to know everything about Minho as well; although the author of the novel had paid enough attention to his character, there were a lot of things you didn’t know, and you found yourself listening to his stories, silently wishing that you were already in his company so that you could have experienced those memories together.

«You’re a pirate,» he had chuckled at your comment, «I’m sure you’ll get to experience your dose of adventures, too.» Minho was completely smitten with your presence, and so were you; slowly, you found yourself occasionally forgetting about your life before you had shifted into this dimension, admitting to both your lover and your friends that you didn’t want to find a way to go home any longer. Needless to say, they were all more than happy with your choice.

However, a month later, your destiny gave you an unexpected choice.

The Golden Fleece was now docked to a port for your usual restock of supplies, and as everyone was busy with their commissions, you and Minho decided to wander through the nearby marketplace, since everything about that world was new to you. You ended up buying a matching necklace, since the both of you were too scared to lose a ring in the middle of the sea, and you kept playing with it as you were strolling around, your fingers loosely intertwined together.

The marketplace was filled with the most random people, but what captured your attention was a small stall that seemed to be packed with books.

«I’ll check this out for a second.» you told Minho, who had simply nodded at you, answering that he was going to check out the stall right next to yours. As soon as you quickly approached it, a certain book seemed to catch your eye in a magnetic hold: it was relegated in leather, some golden details that recalled the title written in beautiful handwriting. Honestly, a small familiar detail was the one that caught your eye, making your heart rapidly hammer in your chest: a small golden stone embedded right under the title was quietly reflecting the sunlight.

Immediately, you found yourself fanning the pages with anxious fingers, and you couldn’t believe what you were reading; the book was talking about your life, the life you were leading before finding yourself in the novel you had been reading. What the hell was happening?

Quickly, you jumped to the end of the book to read the summary, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe: it was a short novel about a girl – who coincidentally had both your name and worked exactly where you used to work, who spent her quiet life in a small home town, occasionally meeting her friends.

Of course, it sounded rather plain and boring, but the description was perfectly matching your life; anxiety was slowly clouding your emotions as you opened the book at a random page.

“«Cleo, don’t sit on the window sill!» the girl had yelled from the kitchen, worried about her cat’s habits.”

You closed the book immediately, recalling the scene a bit too vividly; your cat had the habit to sit on the window sill anytime it was open, therefore worrying you to death, and every time you ended up picking her up in order to give her some extra cuddles to refrain her from climbing there yet again.

A whirlwind of thoughts were occupying your head; if this book was talking about your life, that meant you could go back to your ordinary life and keep living your days as you used to.

Going back meant not having occasional nausea due to living on a ship and not risking to die of hypothermia; moreover, all of a sudden, you were definitely craving to eat some junk food.

«Are you interested in purchasing the book, young girl?» an old lady called your attention. She was probably the owner of the stall, and you squinted your eyes at the familiarity of her face; to be honest, you were almost certain that she was the same person that owned the book-store in your original time, but that couldn’t be the case, right?

«Hey princess, if you don’t hurry up, we’ll leave you here!» Minho’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and your head seemed to clear just like the wind clears the sky after a heavy storm; you turned your head to look at your lover, who was looking at you with his hands on his hips, a smug yet enamoured look on his face. The Golden Fleece was about to sail, you reminded yourself, you had simply stopped in town to get some supplies, water and enough provisions for the next trip.

Out of instinct, you hugged the book to your chest, as your eyes remained fixed on Minho; you didn’t know anything about how you managed to end up in this messed up reality, and at this point, you didn’t care.

The chance to go back was right in your hands, but as you watched Minho scoff a laughter at your indecision, every trace of doubt vanished from your heart; you and Minho definitely had a rough start, but you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn’t want to live in another dimension without the pirate who was looking at you as if you were the centre of the universe.

Going back meant not having Felix waking you up in the morning, or Leana bursting into your room looking for cuddles because «Chris is busy with stupid pirate stuff.». It meant not seeing both Seungmin and Jeongin incredibly proud about the latter’s progresses in writing and reading, or Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin restlessly trying to lure you into their gambling circle.

Going back also meant no more Minho; no more walking up in the middle of the night just to cuddle closer to him, no more having quiet sex on deck in the middle of the night, no more laughing among yourselves because of a stupid inside joke you created, not having him gently chuckling at your unconsolable face anytime he was drying your hair with a towel as you kept whining about your limited edition conditioner.

Most importantly, it meant no more Minho telling you that he loved you, his eyes full of love and sincerity.

«Thank you, but I prefer adventure books.» you honestly answered at the lady, and with a content smile you placed the book exactly where it was; you quickly walked towards Minho, who hugged your shoulders out of instinct as the two of you walked towards the port.

«Saw anything you liked out there?» he wondered curiously; you sincerely seemed interested in the book you were holding, why didn’t you buy it?

«Yeah,» you answered honestly, «you.» the pirate scoffed a flustered breath, and you circled his waist as you kept walking.

Unbeknownst to you, the lady was looking at you and Minho with a some sort of fond smile on her lips; as soon as you were at a reasonable distance, the book seemed to vanish, as if it had completely disappeared from this world. In a blink of an eye, the old lady seemed to have disappeared as well, and in her place was standing the original owner of the stall, a man who was selling every kind of jewellery shining brightly on the table in front of him.

Few meters away, a cat with a very unique appearance – black fur randomly dotted with ginger spots and light green eyes, was quietly roaming the port, satisfied with her task. She recalled being called in a different variety of names during her immortal life, “Ananke” was probably the most used among different cultures; however, she will always cherish the memories she had made with a very special human who had randomly picked her up on a rainy day, giving her a shelter, keeping her well fed and gifting her with a brand new name: “Cleo”.

Walking towards the Golden Fleece, your attention was caught by some pirates who were carrying a dozen crates on board that looked quite heavy.

«Did we have so little supplies on board?» you questioned Chris, as soon as you and Minho joined the others on the wharf.

«We had plenty!» Leana answered instead, «Me and Felix decided to fill your wardrobe with new clothes, as a welcoming gift!»

«But… I don’t have a wardrobe in my room…» you answered, wondering how could a wardrobe fit in there now that you and Minho were sharing the bedroom.

«Not yet!» Felix answered, mirroring Leana’s euphoria; you were about to answer him, when Hyunjin had asked you whether you had decided to stay with them.

«I did, Captain said it’s not a problem.» you nodded, imperceptibly pushing your body against Minho’s side as if to look for an invisible shelter; what if the gambler trio was against the idea?

However, Hyunjin had simply nodded, while Changbin and Jisung seemed to be genuinely happy about it.

«Well, that’s great!» you said, clapping your hands once, «Chris said that I could chose the first thing to do, and so I decided we’re about to raid a merchant ship!»

«Are you sure you’re okay? Did you perhaps hit your head again?» Seungmin wondered, instinctively reaching out in order to touch your forehead, as if checking if you had a fever. However, you were already walking towards the Golden Fleece with confident steps, as if you were meant to be there.

«Come on, scallywags!» you eagerly announced in a loud voice, as if you were impersonating the Captain, «Let’s go, Min Min.» you added then, your voice definitely more softer and a smile on your lips.

«Wait!» Jeongin halted everyone, his hands hovering in the air, «Did she just call him-»

«You heard the lady!» Leana interrupted Jeongin, quickly pulling the palm of her hand on the younger’s mouth. «Let’s go!»

“Ah, I really shouldn’t have wasted the Britney quote like that,” you pouted, “now I have to figure out another iconic thing to scream as we walk on the merchants’ ship.” you sighed, instinctively leaning towards Minho as soon as you felt his arm circle your shoulders.

«You seem lost in thought,» he pointed out, noticing your eyebrows furrowed.

«Does “it’s high tide, baby!” sound scary and menacious to you?» you wondered out loud, thing that made Minho burst out laughing, «Why are you laughing? It’s not like we can crash against their ship screaming “vibe check”!» you pretended to be offended, but you found yourself laughing along with your lover.

«“Vibe” what? Where did that come from now?» he asked, already knowing that this was just another one of your weird figure of speech.

«My flower field.» you proudly answered, tapping your temple twice, Minho rolled his eyes, and leaned in, shortly kissing your temple.

Everyone was busy on deck, the Golden Fleece had sailed once again; your gaze lost itself in the vast sea in front of you, and you found yourself recalling the question Leana had asked you when you were on your trip to O’draxxia.

«Do you believe in soulmates?» she had questioned you, and back then you uncertainly answered that you thought you did.

“What if me and Minho are soulmates?” you wondered, unconsciously wrapping your fingers around your matching necklace - both the one you bought at the market and the talisman made out of your precious clothes; you found yourself recalling the unpredictable change of your relationship, and you breathed a content sigh, for the first time in your life feeling completely at peace.

«Yes, we must be.» you softly mumbled to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper losing itself in the wind.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year

Text

♡ 𝟙𝟠𝟙𝟚 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 ♡

♡ Mature Content. Minors DNI. Warnings below the break ♡

Pairing: boyfriend!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader

Summary: You wake up to your loving boyfriend nervously making you breakfast, unaware that he plans to propose. That is, if he can work up the courage to.

Genre: slice of life/fluffy smut

Word Count: 1.4kish

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), a delicious breakfast you never get to consume

A/N: This is my first fic after taking a break from writing for a while so my blog's a bit empty but I hope ya'll enjoy this. Any feedback is mucho appreciated. A special thanks to my bestie @anyamaris for giving me the courage to post again ♡

Rubbing your eyes you drag yourself into the kitchen with all the grace of a newborn dear. Soft classical music fills your cozy one-bedroom apartment, rising all at once only to come crashing back down. You’re greeted with the intoxicating smell of milk and honey, the source of which is only revealed to you when your vision clears up. “I made pain perdu!” Hwa smiles, maneuvering around you with the hot pan carrying a thick, golden brown slice of brioche bread. “So…French toast?” He rounds the kitchen table, scooping the piece of French toast onto a plate already home to three other perfectly cooked pieces. “It sounds fancier in French, my love” he says, darting past you again, only this time he stops to kiss you on the cheek. His soft, pink lips chase off the early morning cold.

It’s only now that you notice what he’s done to the kitchen table. Bowls of fruit as fresh as the day they were picked. Orchids and dahlias bloom in ornate vases. Every breakfast side your heart could desire. “Hwa, what is all of this?” you gasp, only having a second to take it all in before he’s guiding you by your wrists to the oak chair he’s pulled out for you. He stops dead in his tracks, it’s like someone hit the pause button. “I…uh…eat. You should eat.” Hwa sits you down, scrambling to hand you a knife and fork. He trembles so faintly that you might not even notice if you weren’t always so in tune with each other’s bodies.

“Seonghwa…” you say softly, your fork poking at the French toast but your gaze locked on your busy body of a boyfriend. Much too wrapped up in his own head, he goes on rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of wine. He swings open one of the cabinets, searching for the perfect glass. Nothing else will do. “Park Seonghwa!” you shout, careful not to sound angry. As sweet as his efforts are, you can tell that something’s bothering him. Hwa’s shoulders drop, his slick dark hair falling against his freshly shaved chin. You scurry up behind him. The feeling of your arms around his waist, your fluffy cheek pressed against his back, quiets his worries at once. He places a hand on top of yours, drawing in a deep breath.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me” you whisper, your voice saturated in worry. As he exhales he places the bottle of wine on the counter, turning around to catch the concern on your beautiful face. “I’ve never regretted anything I’ve done during this relationship…” he starts and your heart sinks to your stomach. That’s what this is all about. He’s breaking up with you. You knew it was too good to be true. Two years of some storybook romance shattered. He did this, all of this, to cushion the blow of… “And I never want to so… y/n will you marry me?” You snap out of your daze to find him down on one knee, holding up a black rose cut diamond ring. He forces a pained smile, bracing for the possibility that you may not feel the same way. An insane thought if there ever was one.

You clutch your hands to your chest, your heart returning to its home with the force of a rocket launching into space. “Yeeeee” you squeak, unable to make out much else. “Yeeee?” “Ssss…” “Yee…sss?” “Yes! Yes! 100% fucking yes!” Tears are streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You imagine what a wreck you must look to him, crying in the middle of your kitchen in an old t-shirt and some beat up sweatpants. But nothing could be further from the truth. Slipping the ring onto your finger, he takes you into his arms, nearly sweeping you off of the floor. He tilts his head back ever so slightly, doing his best not to shed some tears of his own. Hwa kisses you and it is, without question, unmatched by any kiss you’ve shared before this day. His scent is more fragrant than any flower on that table. His lips sweeter than the bottle of red wine sweating on the kitchen counter.

Your shirt lifts, granting him access to the softness of your love handles. The sensation of his hands outlining your body, the electrifying friction of skin against skin, awakens any fiber of your being that could’ve possibly remained drowsy all of this time. “I love you” he gasps against your mouth, lips skimming down your chin to press against your neck. Chills trickle down your spine as he nibbles at the sensitive spot he knows always gets to you. “I love you too” you manage before he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his hands kneading the pillowy tissue of your breasts. “Hwa, wait. Wait. Hold on.”

“Hmm?” is all he says, brushing his thumb across your nipple as it perks up beneath his touch. You giggle at the spark it sends through your system, “Aren’t you gonna eat your pain perdu?” “It’s just French toast. Nothing special,” he shrugs, bringing a hand down to slip into your panties, the moisture of your warmth welcoming the intrusion, “But you on the other hand…” Hwa takes his time dipping his fingers into you one after the other, curling them each in their own unique way to coax every darling whimper you have to offer from your throat. It’s this unpredictability that has your body too overstimulated to do anything more than fall back and surrender.

His fingers abandon you momentarily, a tortuous betrayal forgivable only because of the speed in which he strips your bottom half bare. Your sweatpants and panties falling to the floor tangled within each other. In seconds his hands are behind your knees, firmly pressing them towards your chest. Hwa can’t resist taking mental pictures of you spread out like this, wet and aching. Begging him to taste you for the first time as his on a level he’d spent countless nights praying you’d let him reach. He buries his face between your legs, his long, curved tongue lapping at your clit. You twist in his grip, hips raising purely out of greed. Instead of pushing you back down, he pulls you closer, locking your legs around his neck and plunging his tongue into the very depths of your center.

“Seonghwa…” you whine, the bottom of your shirt twisted in your fist while your other hand grips the edge of the marble countertop. Hwa’s tongue plays you like one of the exquisite instruments of the orchestra concealing your moans from the neighbors on either side of your apartment. It teases the sweet spot deep within you, flexing along your walls when they clench around him. He slips it between the slickness of your folds, slurping down every bit of you he can catch. What he can’t coats his chin, drops splashing along your inner thigh. Your muscles start to spasm. First, it’s only the ones in your stomach but, as the pleasure deepens, you can feel every singular muscle in your body tighten like the rope of a spinning wheel. It’s so much, too much, and you can’t imagine ever asking him to stop.

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth, the lingering scent of milk and honey flooding your lungs once more before the universe itself unravels around you. The orgasm pulses through your veins, dulling all other senses not stemming from Hwa devouring you. You come to be far louder than the music, only driving him to go faster…deeper. “Scream for me. Cry for me” his body language whispers and, oh, how you scream. The very decadence of the sound is enough to arouse him to the point of utter madness. “You…you have to stop...I can’t” you stutter, dangling at the apex of euphoria with no end in sight. If you’re spun any tighter you’re positive you’ll break. He goes completely deaf to you again, this time because he’s much too consumed by you.

Using what minimal strength you have you slide yourself back on the counter, separating the two of you and leaving your walls contracting as if he never stopped. Hwa straightens out, licking you from his lips, “I’m sorry. You’re just…” “Bedroom” you say, planting your feet on the chilled kitchen floor and wobbling back towards the bedroom. “And bring the syrup!” Hwa crooks his neck, unsure of what to make of the odd request. “For what, exactly?” “You gotta come find out!” That’s all that needs saying for him to grab the bottle of syrup from the table and rush to catch up to you, his stunning, slightly uncoordinated, incredibly tasty girlfri...fiance.

#ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #ateez smut #chubby reader #plus size reader #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #chubby smut #plus size smut

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hyuuukais · 1 month

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⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, blood, pregnancy/giving birth (not in detail), minor character death (does it count if it's a memory? lol)

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 6 - RELIVING THE PAST (3.1k + 2 screenshots)

You once again find yourself flipping the sign on the flower shop door to 'closed' as you wait for Minho. This time, you're waiting in the back room; you may as well get some work done to pass the time. Another order came in last night, right before close. Changbin almost refused it, but the way the person spoke convinced him somehow, he didn't elaborate much. It was a beautiful arrangement of deep, richly coloured black dahlias with monkshood for a purple accent, all neatly tied with a purple ribbon. Although you loved the end product, you couldn't help the sinister feeling creeping up your spine

There's a chill in the air, but when you turn away from your workstation, there's nothing. Of course there isn't, you're closed. What were you expecting, another ghost? Jeongin, maybe? A part of you was hoping to see Jeongin, no sign of him since the last texts, but you know he's spent a lot of energy seeing you so often. You stay turned around on your stool, leaning against your workstation as you close your eyes and exhale loudly. It's silent, save for a faint dripping from a leak somewhere in the greenhouse connected to the workroom.

Standing, you decide to take a walk through the greenhouse; it's been a while since you took some time to just be with the plants and relax, letting your fingers graze petals and leaves of all shapes, colours, and sizes. You stop at the end, noticing one bunch wilting right under the leak, and you look up. Changbin put an order in to get it fixed, but it's clear you'll need a temporary solution before it kills your iris plant. Although it should be just water leaking, so you're unsure why it's having this effect...

"Y/n? Are you still back here?" You can hear Changbin bounding down the stairs, calling your name. "Where'd you go...?"

"In the greenhouse!" You shout, giving one last look to the flowers before heading back inside. "I'm here."

"Minho is here, I told him to wait in the front," Changbin announces, shifting uncomfortably. You can tell he's unsure of Minho's presence, having not spoken to him in so long.

"I'll go bring him back here," You say, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Feel free to escape upstairs."

He scoffs at your light teasing, a small smile on his face. "I'll wait at the front desk in case you need me to toss him or something."

You laugh a bit at that, the image of Changbin picking up Minho and throwing him out of the store. The two of you enter the storefront, Changbin moving to sit behind the counter, and you moving to greet Minho. He catches your eye before you get too close, and you offer a smile; he nods in return and waits for you to lead him away. When you re-enter the backroom, you sit on your stool and lean against the wooden workstation, letting him choose a seat.

The workplace isn't huge, with your desk on one side and Changbins on the other, a small, rectangular wooden table in between to place finished works on. There's a bit of an overhang to the table on one end that flips up, a spare stool underneath that Minho slides out and sits on, mimicking your posture against the table behind him. You watch him move his head to look at the painted table, teal and chipping to match the rest of the room, the black tiled floor tying it together. His fingers brush over a raw spot, and you wonder if he has anything to do with the chunk of wood missing from that part of the table, knowing it's been there longer than you've worked here.

"So, this favour," Minho doesn't look away from the table as he speaks. "What is it?"

"I need you to look into someone," You clear your throat. "Find someone, really. My brother."

"You have a brother?" Now, his head shoots up toward you, and so do his eyebrows.

"Apparently," You shrug, barely holding his intense stare. "Maybe you could look into birth records or something."

"Maybe," Minho agrees, hand curling away from the piece of wood.

After an uncomfortably long period of staring at each other, you speak again. "So, what is it you need me to do?"

"Ah," Minho readjusts on the stool, crossing his arms against his chest and briefly looking away. "That, right. Can you use your abilities on command?"

"Not really-"

"Can you try?" He cuts you off, and you sense a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Is this about your partner?" You ask, squinting at him. When he doesn't reply immediately, you have your answer. "You want me to find him, don't you?"

"Not exactly. I wanted to bring you back to where he and I were undercover and find the people who took him." You give him a look to ask, why me?, and he sighs. "Everyone left, but three men stayed behind to finish me off when I came looking for Jisu- Detective Han, but clearly their plan fell through because I'm still here. If we go back, maybe you can see them and we can force them to tell me where they took him."

You blink at him. "Do you forget that I'm not a detective of like, any kind? Interrogation skills are not something I possess, and besides, why would they tell you literally anything if they're already dead? What are the consequences for them?"

All the questions you pose register behind Minho's eyes, you can see the gears turning as he tries and fails to come up with an answer, leaning further back on the chipped table. He looks down, smirking and shaking his head, and you want to take him by the shoulders and shake the rest of him. After more silence, he looks back up at you.

"You're right, they won't want to tell me," He says, standing from his stool and walking toward you. Minho places a hand on either side of you, resting on your workstation. "Which is why you have to bring your friend, Jeongin."

"What's he going to do?" You ask, trying not to get intimidated by the closeness of his face to yours, or the way his eyes bore into you.

"I'm sure he can think of something," Minho only backs away slightly, hands still caging you in. "Now, will you do it? This, in exchange for the birth records?"

You grit your teeth. As much as you want Minho to just help you, no strings attached, you know it's not fair, especially with something so big. With him no longer being with any kind of department, you're sure him getting caught snooping through those records would have him in serious trouble, trouble you got him into that wouldn't have happened if he never agreed to help you in the first place. This is the least you can do for him.

"Fine," You agree, voice low.

"Thank you," Minho exhales, finally stepping away from you, his hands finding his pockets again. "And I have a suggestion for your part, but I don't know how much good it will do if you can't summon your ability yourself."

"What is it?"

"Changbin told me you've been going to places to visit Jeongin's memories and essentially reliving them, why don't you try that for your mother?"

"Okay, hold on. You and Changbin have been talking again?" He shrugs, clearly not thinking anything of it, but you can't believe Changbin didn't tell you. "Whatever. What do you mean by trying it with my mom? Like, going back to the graveyard? Because I'm pretty sure there's a super angry spirit that lowkey controls the place, and I'm not trying to get all of my energy sucked up."

"No, but going somewhere she might have memories of you and your brother," He says, blinking at you.

"She died during childbirth, she has no memories of us." But then you clue in, eyes widening. "She died during childbirth... the hospital, maybe, where we were born! Oh my god, you're a genius!"

You want to jump up and squeeze Minho in a hug, but that's both unlike you and you think he'd threaten you if you tried to. Instead, you rub your hands on your thighs and take a deep breath, standing up to retrieve your bag which is hanging by the greenhouse door. Putting it over your shoulder, you turn and see not only Minho now standing, but Changbin in the doorway. Changbin is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a worried expression on his face.

"You're not going alone," At the sound of his voice, Minho turns around, but Changbin keeps his eyes on you.

"Jeongin will be there too, Bin," You try to reassure him, but you know what he's going to say next.

"I'm coming with you, no arguments," Changbin props himself up straight, hands on his hips. "You told me before the hospital is shut down, so it's gonna be hard to get in there and I'm not letting you do that alone after all the close calls you've had! Besides, you need someone cute to distract any security."

Laughing at his last comment, you move past him and head to the front door. Night is setting in when you walk out, a cold breeze sending a chill through your body as you unlock your car. Changbin locks up after Minho comes out and you watch him head to his own vehicle, Changbin watching as he comes down the steps and puts a hand on the passenger's side door. As Minho drives off, you look at Changbin, unable to read the mixed look on his face, but not wanting to press about it either.

By the time you reach the hospital, it's completely dark out, the moon high in the sky and obscured by clouds. There doesn't seem to be any security, surprisingly, but there is a big metal fence surrounding the perimeter. The once busy area is a ghost town, but you hope not literally, all the buildings closed down and boarded up with washed out signs offering a lease. Approaching the main gate, you see the bolt has already been cut, the chain very loosely put back in place, probably by some teenagers who wanted to explore.

An eerie feeling washes over you when you cross the threshold onto the property, immediately sensing the tragedies that had to have occurred here for it to be shut down only a few years after opening. This whole area was assumed to be cursed, making you even more nervous as you walked up the steps and gently opened the creaky door, Changbin right behind you as you go inside. There's been no sign of Jeongin all day; you hope he's okay. You're immediately greeted by a nurse, her pale complexion telling.

"Hi there, are you here to visit someone?" She asks from behind the desk, ghostly fingers running over the keyboard to a dead computer. "I'll check you in in just a moment, okay? Sit tight, you can sit on one of those chairs."

She waves to an area behind you, but there are no chairs, only empty space. When you look back to her, she's focused on the device in front of her and you can see the dark circles under her eyes and the way she moves her neck uncomfortably, wondering how she died. Perhaps her unfinished business is her job, all of the patients left untreated once the hospital closed. You also wonder why she's working the front desk when she's not a receptionist, but maybe things don't have to make sense in the afterlife.

After a few minutes have passed, she stands and exhales, plastering a tired smile on her face as she nods you over. Telling her your mother's name, she begins to lead you down several corridors until you reach the maternity ward, which is almost completely silent compared to the groans and moans you heard behind closed doors on the way over. Whether that's more unsettling or comforting, you can't decide.

"Here she is!" The nurse opens the door, and you look around the empty room. As soon as you turn back around, she's shutting the door quickly with that same tired smile on her face. You panic, rushing up to the door and trying to open it, but it won't budge.

"Let me," Changbin moves you aside gently, sensing your rising nerves when the door won't open, but it doesn't move for him either.

A noise from behind you startles you, turning quickly to see a woman in bed, a man holding her hand from the side and using a towel to wipe the sweat from her forehead. You immediately recognize your mother, and although you don't know him, you recognize your father as well. This is the first time you've seen his face, but the feeling of familiarity is overwhelming.

He's whispering encouraging thoughts into her ears and she shouts once the doctor at the end of the bed tells her to push, the sound of crying filling the room. Your mother has tears of her own starting to stream down her face, urging your father to take the baby from the nurse once she's done with him, a large smile on his face. Suddenly, the expression on your mother turns from elation to pain, and you can tell something is wrong when the nurse delivering the second baby calls for backup. As she's working, your mother's head lolls to the side, and a loud monotone beep sounds.

Now, there are doctors and nurses rushing around the room trying to save the baby and the mother, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from the scene. There's a mass amount of blood pooling at her legs, no baby to be seen. Your eyes flicker back up when you hear the monotone beep turn back to normal, your own tears welling as you watch your mother open her eyes, but only for a moment until they're screwed up in pain again. The doctor is urging for a c-section, but she's already pushing before the decision is final, the other baby coming out in no time. She's breathing too heavily, shaking and sweating, and the baby doesn't cry this time. You watch her whisper something in her husband's ear, watch as he holds onto her sobbing when the line goes flat again, watch as he's pushed to the side to let the doctors work, and watch as the doctors slowly stop, announcing the time of death right as the baby cries.

Your father backs away when the nurse approaches with the second baby, telling him it's a girl, and he can barely even look her in the eye. He's holding the baby in his arms tightly, the one you assume is your brother, and shakes his head before his expression turns angry.

"She's cursed," He says, loudly enough to make you flinch. "I don't want her. Take her away!"

His voice raises with each word, and you shrink into yourself. Once the nurse backs away, you can see your father look down at the baby in his arms fondly, but there's still a hint of disdain lingering in his features as he cradles and soothes the baby's cries. As the nurse takes the other baby out, you watch her leave, and when you turn back around, the scene has changed back to what you walked into, nothing.

There are arms around you in an instant as you crumble to the ground, knees giving out under you and a loud sob heaving from your chest. You can't stop crying, hands out in front of you holding onto the floor and the only thing keeping you from curling into yourself is the hold Changbin has on you. It's like you can't breathe all of a sudden, the sobs rattling your body, drowning from your own tears. Eventually, you find Changbin has moved your back against him, rocking you back and forth until your eyes have run dry, but the soft hand that wipes the remaining tears away isn't his.

"Y/n," Jeongin says gently, taking your face in his hands. "Shhh, you're okay."

With the comfort of Jeongin and Changbin, you can feel your energy returning to you slowly. The memory still lingers in your mind as you hand Changbin your keys and let him drive you home, offering to stay the night. You stay silent, shaking your head and heading inside, catching Jeongin in reflections as you walk through the dark house. There's not enough strength in your legs to carry you to your room, opting to flop onto your couch instead. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you don't answer, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you.

Minho sits across from you at your dining table, leaning forward slightly. He's damp from the rain outside, his coat hanging on a hook by your door. Rain hits your window aggressively, wind howling and whistling. You're staring at him with wide eyes, trying to process his words.

"It's Hyunjin. Your brother is Hyunjin."

Jeongin is pacing behind you, the chair next to you skewed from when he stood up. It doesn't make sense to you at first, but then you start to really think about it. Your adoptive family lived in the same area, but you never crossed paths, and being kept in all-girls schools until you moved across the city now making sense. And your mother being buried there too, somewhere close to the both of you. Thinking of your father's rejection still stings, but you remember the look on his face as he cradled Hyunjin in his arms, the hidden contempt well masked. You don't want to think about the childhood he had.

"You're sure?" You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

"Positive," Minho keeps his voice low.

You remember the dream you had, back in a house you didn't recognize; the ruined family photos, the candlelit pathway, all leading to him. Hyunjin. And you realize something, something you should have thought of when you found out you even had a brother.

"He has the same ability, I think," You say, locking eyes with Minho, and you can hear Jeongin stop moving. You explain the dream quickly. "I think he's trying to figure out what happened to Jeongin too."

notes ~ chapter !!!!!! woo !!!!!!!!! i am actually so excited to write the next one though, there's one scene i literally cannot wait to share aaaaa!!!!!

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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patukkaas · 1 year

Text

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Black Dahlia x Fem!Reader

Fanfiction type:

Headcanons

Tws: a lil out of character, mentions of sketchy business aka murders and stuff. Hint of nsfw, and kinda short.

Requested by @ hellokittyloverrz on wattpad

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Confession

- Theres three ways she'd find out about you.

- one, you were working against her, you were working WITH her or you were one of the bunny girls, aka working under her.

- In every case of these you'd never find out anything BEFORE she straight up tells you.

- Because she basically flirts with every girl she fights against or even sees and the flirting would triple if you were one of the bunny girls.

- and again in every case of these she'd be the first one to even hint at anything becoming serious between you two.

- Which would be extremely hard to even catch onto.

- She'd be extra about the way she confesses to you, wouldn't go all out with it but wouldn't just "I love you" randomly.

- She'd have built up with it.

Relationship

- If you were working against her before then obviously you'd be pulled into the medici business, probably under Dahlia but who minds that, she'd treat you the best obviously.

- If you were just in general working with her, much wouldn't change but the fact she wants to spend more time around you.

- And if you were one of the bunny girls pretty much nothing would change.

- Dahlia's other bunny girls wouldn't really get jealous since they're all in a pretend realitionship with Dahlia already so they don't worry about it.

- She'd keep you very close to her at almost all times, she enjoys bloodshed but only when it isn't YOUR blood.

- Would get horny seeing you fight or kill anyone lol.

- Would also share her "Apple juice" with you.

- She'd definitely write you love letters even if she was with you the whole day.

- She steals you expensive jewels and other other stuff from her jobs because she thought they'd fit you well.

- Would love it if you became even more included in the medici business.

- She thinks it's more fun working if you're with her.

- Your mere presence keeps her extremely entertained, you must be interesting to have caught her eye.

- As a present, she'd give you blood red or black roses with the thorns still on them.

- Would get..very excited if you gave her a small glass jar necklace of your blood.

Break-up

- Would occur if you were high on morals.

- And if you didn't appreciate bloodshed.

- A break-up wouldn't happen if you just suddenly became boring, Dahlia takes a loong time choosing whose lucky enough for her love.

- Only reasons you two would break up are:

- 1. You have high morals (or pretty much any at all)

- 2. You weren't as "crazy" as her.

- 3. You tried to drive her out of the business.

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#x reader #fanfiction #headcanons #fanfic #skullgirls #fem reader #skullgirlsblackdahlia #skullgirls x reader #skullgirls x fem reader #skullgirls black dahlia x reader #black dahlia x fem reader #black dahlia x reader

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mikavlcs · 1 year

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Flowers

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Wednesday’s plan to court you is thwarted by an unforeseen issue.

Warnings: allergies(?), an inability to write good kiss scenes, the tone for this one is kinda all over the place tbh but it’s just fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: this is a request for my mother, hope you enjoy<3 (also i know nothing about flowers, all information is from google. hopefully i didn’t piss off the gardening fandom lol)

Masterlist

Frustration was nothing new to Wednesday.

To her woeful dismay, she experienced it almost constantly. During the day when imbeciles in the halls with no concept of an indoor voice spoke loud enough to be heard by the entire school. In the evenings when Enid’s obnoxious pop music was loud enough that she could hear it through her headphones. When she was on the cusp of solving another mystery and suddenly her leads went cold.

No, Wednesday was no stranger to frustration. But the type of frustration she was feeling now was completely new to her.

Because, usually, Wednesday could find a reason for her frustrations.

Her fellow students acted idiotic because they were Neanderthals. Enid, though a werewolf with heightened senses, was unaware of just how loud her music was at times. Periods of inactivity during a case typically either meant that she was missing something (unlikely) or that she needed to wait for her target to make their next move.

There were always reasons. Cause and effect. A perfect balance for her logical brain to understand—even if she didn’t like the answers in place. But no, not this time.

This time, there were seemingly no reasons for what you were doing. No matter how much she thought about it, no reasoning that her mind put forth made sense. It was simply impossible. Like trying to solve a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle in the dark.

And it was especially maddening because, by all accounts, she had done everything right.

Wednesday had plans to court you. She was initially going to do something traditional like hand-deliver you the heart of one of your enemies, but Enid was repulsed when she found out about these plans. Instead, her roommate insisted that flowers were a much better substitute.

Initially, Wednesday thought it was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard, and she still thought the idea of a “secret admirer” was moronic at best. But the idea of expressing her revolting feelings through the language of the Earth’s flora…undeniably enticing.

So she begrudgingly began to put together a plan.

(Wednesday did not, however, inform Enid of this. She refused to give the werewolf the satisfaction.)

She was originally going to start small. A posy of Black Dahlias, maybe, or a small vase of Hydrangeas. But she supposed she got a bit…carried away.

It was demeaning honestly, how much effort she was putting into something so stupid. Getting seeds from her mother, finding a secluded place to plant and tend to them, breaking into your locker during the early hours of the morning so no one could witness just how low she was stooping for you. She put weeks into this nonsense.

And all of that time and effort culminated in you throwing the flowers away.

Every. Single Time.

Actually, no—it was worse than you just throwing them out. Every time you opened your locker and saw the flowers, you leaped back as if you had found a bomb amongst your things. You immediately, without even inspecting them or trying to decipher their intended message, took the flowers and disposed of them in the nearest trash can.

She didn’t understand it. Whatsoever.

Especially because they were good flowers. Expertly grown and cared for, picked in the early morning to make sure they stayed fresh for as long as possible. She even made sure they had contextually appropriate meanings to try and get her emotions across without words.

Her first foray into this madness was a bouquet of black roses, to tell you that she would die for you if given the chance. Then the next day, an arrangement of orange lilies to represent how she was willing to humiliate herself for you (clearly). The next, a black vase of Deadly Nightshade, simply because it was a personal favorite of hers.

There was an array of others as days passed—the aforementioned Black Dahlias and Hydrangeas, black petunias, red tulips, and yellow carnations. There was a superstition that Chrysanthemums brought bad luck and terrible nightmares, so naturally, she gave you those as well.

(She had considered giving you Aconites to signify the hatred that wished she felt for you, but given the fact that they were poisonous, she decided against it. As much as she yearned to poison someone in this godforsaken school, she didn’t wish to see you suffer that fate. Yet.)

Hell, she had even turned to the likes of red roses and sunflowers when she saw the negative reception to her first picks, but they all ended up in the same place: the trash can at the end of the hall.

It was torturous. Because Wednesday knew you returned her affections, she had known for a while. She originally thought it a burden, a weakness for her to potentially exploit until she made the startling discovery that she returned your wretched feelings.

So the idea that she might have misconstrued something she thought to be incredibly obvious made her physically ill. The implication that she was…incorrect tormented her.

There were few things Wednesday hated more than being wrong.

But one thing she was beginning to despise more was the feeling in her chest whenever she saw her flowers in that trash can. You were making her feel something she prided herself on never feeling: defeat. And she was tired of it.

Wednesday refused to sit by and allow you to make a fool out of her from the shadows for any longer. Enid’s stupid plan be damned.

She was going to find you and she was going to get answers. Whether it was quick and easy or slow and painful was entirely up to you.

Finding you in the Nevermore library was unsurprising.

You went there often to read and recharge your “social battery” when needed. And it seemed like now was one of those times. You sat silently with your eyes trained on a book in front of you, the headphones covering your ears turned up so loud she could hear the faint hum of your music from across the room.

It was clear that you didn’t want to be disturbed. Unfortunately, Wednesday did not care.

She stalked up behind you quietly, resting her hand on your shoulder once she was within arm’s reach of you. Wednesday took far too much joy in the way you quite literally jumped out of your seat. The sudden movement sent the chair backward into Wednesday, who easily caught it and settled it back into its original position.

Breathless, you spun around, eyes widening when you saw who it was.

“Wednesday, wha-“

“Why do you always throw them away?”

You blinked owlishly. Once, twice, then spoke. “What?”

“The flowers,” she clarified, impatience creeping into her tone, “why do you always throw them away? Did you not like them?”

Wednesday could tell you wanted to ask why she wanted to know about this, but thankfully you were smart enough to answer her questions before asking any of your own.

“Well, n-no. I didn’t dislike them. They were pretty flowers.”

The admission did nothing to comfort Wednesday, whose patience was running incredibly thin. Still, she kept her tone as neutral as possible.

“Then what was the issue? Why throw them out?”

“Well-it’s just…” you paused, cheeks darkening as you mumbled something incomprehensible. Wednesday blinked.

“What was that?”

You sighed.

“I’m allergic.”

Oh.

Well, she supposed that made sense. It certainly explained why you reacted the way you did whenever you saw the flowers in your locker. Her prior anger melted away, understanding slowly replacing it.

She thought back to her earlier musings, the dark irony nearly made her smile. The flowers really were, for all intents and purposes, an allergen bomb.

Wednesday noticed a moment later that you were still speaking.

“-not technically life-threatening or anything. I just get itchy and my eyes water, although my throat does start to close up if I’m around them for too long, but it’s usually pretty manageable. It happens around most plant life. That’s why I transferred out of Botany class. Principal Weems thinks it might be a pollen allergy but I’m not sure-“

Your rambling would be (barely) tolerable under any other circumstance, but right now Wednesday just wanted to express the feelings that had been plaguing her for months on end.

“It was me.”

That effectively shut you up. She watched patiently as the gears turned in your head, the words that came out your mouth not quite keeping up with the realization she saw in your eyes. “What?”

“I put the flowers in your locker. To inform you of my…feelings,” she said, disdain creeping into her voice at the end.

You looked positively devastated. “Oh, Wednesday, I’m-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to look like I didn’t like the flowers or didn’t appreciate the gesture. I like you, Wednesday. I really do. I-“

With a sharp inhale, you cut yourself off and look away. Concerned, Wednesday’s brows furrowed. Before she could properly investigate the issue, you looked back to her, a question in your eyes that she couldn’t decipher before you said it aloud.

“Can I hug you?”

The smaller girl blinked. She, admittedly, wasn’t expecting that to be your question.

Wednesday wasn’t one for physical affection, but she found herself stepping forward before she could think better of it. And when she felt your arms settle around her, gently pushing her against you, she couldn’t muster even an ounce of regret.

She didn’t return your embrace—she had a reputation to uphold, after all—but she did lean into you, turning her face into your neck and closing her eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Your apology is accepted,” she whispered against the nape of your neck. Your shoulders relaxed against her, but your grip tightened.

“I still feel really guilty.”

Wednesday tilted her head up slightly to meet your eyes, brows furrowing. “Guilty for what? I practically tried to kill you.”

“Unknowingly,” you added, a smile pulling at your lips. “Though, it would have been fitting for you.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

Wednesday stepped back, eyes traveling down to your lips. A split-second decision was made, the words falling from her lips before she even realized what she was doing.

“Kiss me.”

Part of Wednesday wanted to be laid to rest right then and there, the humiliation she had felt before returning with a vengeance. But another part just wanted you to comply, to sate the curiosity she’d been fighting for months now.

Somehow, you managed to look more shocked than she felt.

“W-What?” you stuttered, eyes wide and mouth partially agape as if what Wednesday just said was the most preposterous thing you had ever heard.

“I said kiss me,” she stated with a confidence she didn’t fully feel. You swallowed.

“I-uh, are you sure?”

You shifted on your feet, still unsure. Wednesday nearly sighed again.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”

That seemed to be enough for you to finally act. Timidly, you brought your hands up to cup her face, your touch lighter than a feather on her skin. Your wide eyes never strayed from hers and she stared back in hopes of speeding up your glacial pace. To her chagrin, it seemed to have no effect.

You leaned in agonizingly slowly, likely to give her ample time to pull away if she changed her mind. But Wednesday didn’t have the patience for your kindness. So she took the initiative to lean up and pressed her lips to yours, her eyes fluttering closed upon contact.

It was both everything and nothing like Wednesday thought it would be.

Kissing you wasn’t anything like the dumb things Enid said to describe kissing Ajax (she loathed the fact that she even knew any of that in the first place). There weren’t any fireworks or godforsaken butterflies or any other insipid romance cliché her roommate was obsessed with.

It was soft, slow, and utterly addicting. Even more so than she predicted it would be. She knew long before this moment that the press of your lips to hers would be her downfall, and like usual, she was correct.

Everything about your kiss was ethereal—the warmth that encompassed her from head to toe, the tenderness in the way your lips moved against hers, the feeling of your thumb lovingly stroking her cheek. She knew that she would crave it from this moment forward.

In mere moments, her senses were completely overtaken by nothing but you. It was overwhelming in the best way possible, and she savored it for as long you would allow.

Wednesday stepped back only when air became an unfortunate necessity for the both of you. After a long moment, she dared to open her eyes and look at you. Your eyes were still closed, lips slightly parted as you regained your breath. A light flush crept onto your face, tinting your skin a light shade of red and though Wednesday didn’t care for color, she liked the way it looked on you.

“One more thing,” she muttered when she finally regained a fragment of her composure. You blinked back into awareness, a sweet smile tugging at your lips, complimenting the light blush on your face quite nicely.

“What’s that?” you whispered into the space between you.

“You must go on an…outing with me.”

“An outing?” Your face scrunched lightly. Then you gasped softly, eyes alight with something far too exuberant. “Do you mean a date?”

Wednesday cringed, breathing a quiet sigh through her nose. She stepped back to fully look at you, and you let her, dropping your hands back to your sides. Momentarily, she mourned the loss of your touch.

“You may call it whatever you want as long as I get to choose the location.”

“Alright, and where do you want this date to take place?” you inquired, smile a little too sly for Wednesday’s liking. But she simply grinned.

“The morgue. I’ve been itching to perform a proper autopsy lately. It’ll be nice to have a partner with all of their limbs.”

She watched the color drain from your face with a bit too much amusement. To your credit, you regained your composure faster than she thought you would.

“Ok, y-yeah, sure,” you stammered, eyes darting around the library. Wednesday’s eyebrows shot up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally.” You straightened up, taking an audible gulp as you tried your best to look unbothered. Her grin grew at the sight.

“Then I will pick you up from your dorm at 9:30 tomorrow night, got it?”

“Yep.” You nodded. She turned to leave but stopped.

She knew she should leave but…

Turning back on her heel, Wednesday grabbed your blazer and pulled your lips back to hers for one more kiss. This one was harder than the last, sure to noticeably bruise, but it was no less satisfying. Actually, the feeling of your body pressed flush against hers made it even more pleasant, she decided.

She allowed herself a moment to revel in your warmth, your taste again before stepping back and meeting your dazed eyes.

“See you tomorrow.”

Without another glance, Wednesday exited the library. The small smile on her face didn’t waver the entire journey back to her dorm. Not even when she passed the trashcan with all of her flowers.

If anything, her smile only widened at the promise of what was to come.

#just noticed the coat she's wearing has flowers on it...fitting #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday #jenna ortega

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sinfulspencer · 2 years

Text

The Black Dahlia (pt.2)

Prompt: Spencer and Daisy, now named Dahlia, meet again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: murder, death, blood, violence, the Black Dahlia case

Words: 8.9k

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The days have passed with no particular events and the team is still stuck in Arlington, trying to find a way to solve the case without causing too much of a fuss. They are all affected by how nothing seems to be giving them a lead - nothing in these women’s lives is weird or off.

They were all loved, no enemies, no fights, no problems at work.

Nothing seemed to have sparked an interesting starting point.

Unfortunately it was difficult to keep the case away from the media, because someone leaked something - and the whole city turned against each other, creating havoc from one side of the town to the other.

Neighbours accused neighbours.

Young teenagers didn’t want to go to school.

Fights, fake accusations, calls to the local PD.

“Penelope, you’re on speaker.”

Spencer puts his phone at the center of the table, putting his hands on the edge of the table.

“Okay, I found something really, really awful about these teachers. I’m not sure it’s something, but it could potentially be a lead.” - Penelope mumbles, typing something on her computer - “Twenty years ago there was a case, or a situation, of a serial rapist in this town. And guess what?”

Emily raises her brows, crossing her arms to her chest. “These women have either been victims or witnesses?”

David leans back against his chair. “How did we miss that?”

“We didn’t! I had to grab a bigger shovel and dig into the city’s past in order to unseal those files! The case was dismissed because all women were minors when that happened and their parents retracted the accusations.” - Penelope exclaims, agitation in her voice - “They were convinced their daughters were lying. There wasn't enough proof to charge the man, so he was released a day after and the case was shut down. No one ever saw those three women ever again because their parents sent them to a correctional facility here in Arlington for their problematic behaviour.”

Spencer sits down on the chair with his hands grabbing the edge of the table. He doesn’t like where this is going and he doesn’t like the fact that you’ve hinted him to kill the man before he could get to you. Why would this man get to you again? Why would he touch you?

What were you talking about?

If this has something to do with an old case, it means he has something to do with you and your past. Spencer doesn’t know how you found out about this case, but you’re on the run - maybe you stumbled here in Arlington, maybe you saw the murderer, maybe you know something.

Spencer hopes to find another flower in his bedroom later.

“Okay, so these women were victims of a serial rapist.” - JJ chimes into the conversation, looking at Luke - “Do we think it’s the same man seeking revenge? Were Beatrice, Elizabeth and Zoe the only victims?”

Silence fills the room for a few seconds, then it gets interrupted by Penelope’s disgusted voice.

“No, unfortunately they weren’t. Three more girls came forward against the same mea and their story matched the stories of our three victims. I’m going to send you all their names and their addresses, if you want to talk with them.” - Penelope says, humming - “They disappeared as well and came back to Arlington a year later from the same correctional facility.”

Spencer is quiet, barely looking at the file.

He’s lost in his thoughts, trying not to let the anger show through his eyes. He knows he’s being observed by half of his team and he can’t let his emotions get the best of him. Spencer has to protect you from them and from the man you’re so desperately begging him to catch, but what happened?

Did he touch you? Were you one of the victims as well?

What led you to send Spencer a flower and beg him to capture this man?

Spencer crosses his legs under the table, moving his eyes to the phone. “Penelope, who was the primary suspect? Can we have a name?”

“I’m trying to find it, but it seems… Oh.”

Oh?

Spencer exchanges a glance with Luke, as they speak in unison. “Oh?”

“Robert Y/L/N.”

The whole team goes silent as soon as the surname leaves Penelope’s lips. Spencer is the most affected for obvious reasons, but JJ and Luke are too. They keep looking at their colleague, then at each other. They’re trying to keep him calm, especially Luke who puts both his hands on Spencer’s shoulders - this is not a great situation.

This is dangerous.

“Any connection with Y/N Y/L/N?”

Penelope hums through the speaker. “Yes, he’s her uncle. He used to live here in Arlington until those accusations were made. He had to move away when they were dropped and… Oh wow.”

Do you have something to do with it?

Do you know anything about the case?

Luke wonders if you’re here right now, if you’re doing this to punish the man accused of raping too many women in such a little town. Is this your way to bring justice to the families? By killing the women and making it look like it’s your uncle’s fault?

Or is it really your uncle’s doing?

It wouldn’t make sense that you’d start killing women. You’ve never even thought about doing that because you have a specific target in your mind, but maybe this is another way to taunt the team.

To taunt Spencer.

Is it, though?

Are you able to kill a woman without feeling sorry for her? Are you able to kill a woman by severing her body in half, cutting her all over and dropping her body somewhere in a park?

You’re a psychopath, but you have a set of very strong beliefs you’re not going to let go. However, as JJ said, the team has to keep in mind all the possibilities of you switching the victimology to get them off your back - you could be using old cases from your family tree to cover up your tracks, but why would you be so careless?

Why would you use your uncle’s crimes to cover your tracks?

Why would you let the FBI investigate something like this?

Unless you have nothing to do with these crimes and you’re actually innocent, for once in your life.

“When Robert moved to Georgetown, he was quiet for years. He even got married and had a child with a woman named Cecily. They were happy, nothing much happened, until.. another string of accusations were made against him.” - Penelope speaks through gritted teeth. These cases are not easy to read about - “This time he targeted four women in their early 20’s. He killed one of them and was sent to prison for eight years.”

Luke looks at Spencer for a brief second, noticing how he’s grasping his trousers with one hand and using the other to draw circles on the surface of the table. His colleague is trying his best to maintain a calm demeanour, but his body language is betraying him.

Does he know something?

“Let me guess, he was released a year ago and moved back here.”

“Reid, you… scare me sometimes.” - Penelope chirps, hoping to bring some light with her joke - “Yes, Robert was released a year ago. Initially he went back to Georgetown for Cecily, but she got married again and filed a restraining order against him.”

That’s the stressor.

“Then, Robert came back to Arlington. He was quiet again, and then… He disappeared. No telephone traceable, no home address, no job. Nothing. It’s like he vanished, but we all know he’s not vanished.” - Penelope mumbles, typing something else on her computer - “I’m going to send you everything I’ve found on Robert and his photos.”

“Thank you Penelope, you did a great job.”

Spencer hangs up the call and stands up from the chair, immediately heading out of the room. He feels sick, as if there’s something at the pit of his stomach that begs to get out of his body - hearing the sound of your name coming from Penelope’s lips and how your uncle was accused of such crimes, drives Spencer mad.

Did you know about what he did? Were you one of his victims?

Spencer needs to breathe some fresh air or he’s going to go batshit crazy on Robert when he finds the bastard. If he has laid a finger on you, if he even thought about touching you, Spencer is not going to let him leave - he’s going to find a way to make him react during a takedown and he’ll take him down himself.

Whatever it may cost him.

You asked Spencer to find the man before he could get to you. He's not going to disappoint you.

Luke leaves his jacket on his chair and steps out of the conference room to look for his colleague, worried that this situation might have triggered him into thinking about you - and spiralling. It wouldn’t be the first time a case hits a little too close to home, it’s normal to feel like you’re being targeted - and even if Luke doesn’t know that this is not the case, it’s better than him thinking it is.

Finding Spencer in the back of the local PD, with a glass of water in his hands, Luke waves at him.

The other man doesn’t look at him.

“Hey. You okay?”

Spencer shrugs, chugging the glass of water and throwing it in the trashcan. “I’m fine.”

“I can imagine…”

“No, you can’t.” - Spencer cuts him off, shaking his head and pacing back and forth in front of his colleague - “I didn’t come here to Arlington to let her taunt me. I don’t even know if this is a taunt or not! If she wants to find me, why can’t she just talk to me?”

Luke takes a step back, raising his brows. “Do you think this is a sign from her?”

The young doctor inhales deeply, realising that he has made another mistake. He knows damn well that you’re not sending him a message, unless you count the note still folded in Spencer’s pocket.

“I have no idea.”

“Do you think she’s behind these murders?”

Spencer shakes his head without hesitation. “No, she wouldn’t change her victimology so abruptly.”

Luke tilts his head, crossing his arms to his chest. “Not even if those women accused her uncle without proof?”

“Come on, Luke. I’m sure those women all had proof, but the parents dropped the charges because they didn’t want their neighbours to talk shit about the family. We know how these situations go, we’ve dealt with them before and this is exactly what’s happening.” - Spencer spits out, his anger easily detectable by the way he’s moving - “We need to find more proof against Robert and put him behind bars before he grabs another woman.”

Spencer runs back inside the local PD, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

Even if he knows that Spencer is angry because Penelope mentioned your name, he has no clue why he’s so passionate about the case - not that there’s anything wrong, it means that Spencer cares about the victims and wants to bring closure to the family, but it feels like there’s something else going on.

There must be something.

Otherwise his behaviour cannot be explained.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number again, walking back inside the conference room. “Can you compile a list of all the women that have accused Robert of his crimes? Every single one of them.”

“Do you want to know if Y/N is one of them?”

“It’s likely she was.”

“Oh, Spencer... yeah, She was.” – Penelope whispers, noticing his voice dropping lower – “I’ll send you everything I can as soon as possible. I promise.”

“Thank you, Garcia.”

It doesn’t take long for Penelope to send the whole team the list of all the twenty women involved with Robert, from the first accusations in Arlington to the last one in Georgetown that ended in murder. Spencer is visibly angry when he stops reading the list, focusing only on one name at the top of the paper, and the whole team knows why.

They don’t say anything, focusing on all the other victims.

“There were seven women here in Arlington that accused Robert of inappropriate behaviour, four of them were killed in the last few months.” – Emily announces to the team, pointing to the glass board behind her – “We need to contact the last three women and put them in protective custody, they’re probably his next target.”

Spencer barely looks up at the board, reading your name over and over.

Is this why you wanted to kill your father? Because he sent you to your uncle’s when he got locked up in prison? You wanted to murder him because he sent you to your abuser? Is this why you’re here in Arlington now, sending Spencer flowers?

The Black Dahlia laying on his nightstand is a clear message, a message he didn't get its meaning at first, but it's obvious now.

You were telling him that there’s a man recreating that murder over and over, targeting those women who accused him and sent him to prison – and for that reason, he lost Cecily. He’s avenging his loss by forcing those families to lose their daughters, because he thinks it’s their fault he didn’t get the life he thought he deserved with his ex wife.

Well, it’s not their fault if Robert is a fucking monster and Cecily wants to protect herself, but psychopaths have a logic of their own.

Spencer folds the paper on the table and puts his right hand in his pocket, brushing his fingers against the note you left in his bedroom a week before. He can’t believe he has missed all of this – if he had told the team what you were trying to do, maybe he could’ve speeded up the process of the investigation. Maybe he would’ve caught him sooner and maybe... Maybe you would’ve graced Spencer with your appearance.

He sounds so fucking crazy right now, he knows it, but he misses you.

He’s desperate to find Robert because once he does, and accomplishes his task, you will come back to him.

That’s all Spencer wants.

You, his Daisy.

JJ closes the door of the conference room, looking at Luke who sits alone at the table, holding his phone. The rest of the team got out to try and talk to Samantha Nolen and Olivia jackson. Luckily, the two women have answered their phone which means they are safe, but JJ or Luke didn't get so lucky with the third woman, Victoria Duncan.

Since she also hasn't posted anything new on her social media accounts, which is unusual for her, they try to contact her family and friends in a desperate attempt to track her.

“She doesn’t answer.”

Luke shakes his head, dialling Victoria’s mother’s number. “Has Garcia tried to contact her friends?”

“She’s calling her best friend, I’m trying her cousin right now.” – JJ says, bringing the phone up to her ear - “I think Robert got to her before us.”

The two agents keep on calling her friends, asking them if they know if Victoria is at work or somewhere else but nobody seems to know anything. They either haven’t seen Victoria in days or they haven’t spoken to her for even a longer time, which alarms JJ and Luke – they need to consider her as a missing person.

They don’t want to find her body, they want to find her alive and well, but maybe Robert got to her before they could do anything.

Spencer and David are having a conversation with Samantha on the other side of Arlington.

The young woman has all of her windows and her doors locked, terrified that whoever was looking for the other three women, who lost their lives and were involved in the charges against Robert, might be searching for her as well. She has been inside her house ever since the second woman was murdered, because they remembered each other pretty well.

Samantha was the first woman who ended up inside that mental health facility not too far from Arlington, paid by her parents in order to keep her quiet. David conducted the whole conversation because he saw how agitated Spencer was and he didn’t want his colleague to make a mistake, to upset Samantha even more than how she is already.

It’s normal to be affected by these crimes, especially if they’ve involved you in the past.

“How can you be sure Robert is the one behind the murders?” David asks

Samantha shrugs, looking away from the man in front of her. “Because he threatened us before leaving this town. When we were sent away, me and all the other women, we were forced to have a conversation with him. Our parents thought we could fix things with him, because they didn’t want our family to get a bad reputation.”

Spencer uncrosses his legs, leaning forward with his body. “Why do you think he got to Beatrice, Zoe and Elisabeth first? And not you or Olivia?”

“I have no idea.” – the young woman whimpers, covering her face with her hands – “I was the first one he hurt, then there was Olivia and Victoria. All the others came after.”

David glances at Spencer, tilting his head. “He’s grabbing them from the last one to the first. He’s going backwards."

The young doctor tightens his hands in fists, breathing through his nose. All the proofs are pointing to your uncle and Spencer wonders if you’ve already found him, or at least understood his pattern.

From what the team is gathering from these conversations with Robert’s first victims, is that he’s killing all of his old victims backwards. Elizabeth first, Zoe second and Beatrice third. Which means Victoria is the next, the woman who’s already missing, then Olivia, Samantha... and you.

Spencer is not going to allow him to get to that point.

He’ll stop Robert, no matter what it takes. He can’t let him get to you or he’ll never forgive himself. Spencer has disappointed you already by ratting you out to the FBI and pretending to be caring for you; he was supposed to let you kill your father, but you didn’t. He survived. And now... not only do you want to kill your father, probably, but you want to make sure that your Uncle gets locked up before he gets to you.

Spencer knows that you won’t stop until you find him, but he also wants to prove to you how loyal he is.

Even if it kills him.

“We really appreciated your help, Samantha.” – David says, standing up from the couch – “You and Olivia will be protected until we find Robert.”

Spencer glances at his colleague, then he takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you something, Samantha? Before we leave?”

The young woman nods eagerly. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Has Robert ever spoken about someone named Y/N?”

David immediately turns his head to look at Spencer, surprised that he would even think about mentioning you in such a difficult situation. David knows how Spencer is becoming obsessed with you now that you’re out of prison and he understands why Spencer is so nervous, why he’s trying his best to find you, but he can’t bring you up every single time he has the chance to.

It’s a question that can easily make Samantha retract everything.

However, the woman seems to be eager to answer.

“I don’t remember much, but she was with him when he... When he caught me.”

Spencer’s heart drops in his chest. He wasn’t expecting this answer.

“Was she there when...”

David leaves the sentence hanging, not sure if he should use the word in front of Samantha. Not every victim can handle the sound of it so he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to scare her or trigger a panic attack – it can easily happen.

“Yes. I... I don’t remember much, Agent Rossi.” – Samantha says, furrowing her brows and turning to look at Spencer – “She was young, Doctor Reid. She probably was 7 or 8 years old, she was so small.”

You were so young.

A child.

David never felt bad for you because of the actions you’ve done in your present, but he can’t help but think about how you could’ve been different. How a normal family, a mental health counsellor, a psychologist or a psychiatrist, could’ve helped you become... better.

“Did he force her to touch you?”

“No, no. He kept yelling at her to stay back, to stop crying and observe.” – Samantha sniffles, brushing the back of her hand under her right eye – “He told her that one day she was going to end up like me.”

Spencer stands up from the couch in the blink of an eye and, waving at Samantha, storms out of her apartment. He can’t fucking believe what he just heard her saying, how Robert threatened to rape you once you grew older – but did that happen? Did that really happen or did you get away before he could do it?

Even if you did, the fear those words might have struck in you pushed you to become the way you are today.

Spencer wants to find Robert and rip his throat apart. He wants him to suffer, he wants to kill him with his bare hands and leave his body to the weather, to the animals. Robert doesn’t deserve to be brought to justice, he deserves to get killed – in the worst way possible.

In the most painful, atrocious, torturous way that exists.

“I was a child when you did what you did.”

He grits his teeth. “I never touched you.”

“You didn’t. But you told him to touch me, to raise me as his. You told him to love me as one of his children when all the damage was already done.”

Spencer keeps replaying the words you yelled at your father before killing him. You had tears in your eyes, your chest was rising up and down rapidly. You were so angry, so terrified in that moment that Spencer would’ve loved to hug you from behind and comfort you.

You looked so small in that moment, pretending to be a fearless creature when in reality you just wanted a normal family. A family that loved you, that helped you grow up, that showed you how love and courage can turn you into an incredible person.

But no, your family turned you into a monster.

A monster that, despite the murders, has only hurt people who deserved it.

Spencer hated seeing you like that, with the anger blossoming in your heart and your fingers tightening against the edge of the table. And at first, he didn’t even think about your words. He was so focused on your body language that he actually forgot what you were saying.

“Spencer? What’s up with you today?”

“Nothing, I just want to find this son of a bitch before he hurts Victoria. We don’t know how long she has been taken for and I’m worried she might not have much time.” - Spencer spits out, placing a hand over his gun attached to his hip holster - “What if he gets to Da… Y/N? What if he finds her?”

David goes silent, noticing the third mistake Spencer has made.

“I’m sure Y/N can protect herself. She’s not stupid and she’s not worried about using a knife.” - David answers him, crossing his arms to his chest - “Did you know he used to do this?"

Spencer shakes his head, heading to the car not too far from Samantha’s house. “No. We didn’t talk much when I was with Y/N, but she hinted at something when she was talking to her father.”

The older agent hums, jumping into the car. “I remember when you said that.”

“She said: ‘But you told him to touch me, to raise me as his. You told him to love me as one of his children when all the damage was already done.’”

David turns the engine of the car on. “If we don’t find him in time and he doesn’t get to Olivia and Samantha, he’ll definitely look for Y/N.”

“That can’t happen.”

Rossi stays silent, noting in his brain Spencer’s odd behaviour.

The day after Spencer’s conversation with Samantha, Victoria’s body is found at Fort Barnard’s Park. Dismembered, like all the others, and in the same exact position – which means Robert struck again, regardless of his knowledge about the FBI working actively on the case.

Spencer couldn’t sleep the night before.

He laid the Black Dahlia on his pillow and spent the whole night looking at it, as if he was hypnotized. He dreamed about you being there on the bed with him, of him being able to wrap his arms around your neck and kiss you, of him whispering to you that you were going to be safe because he wouldn’t have left you.

Now, with a fourth body on his back, Spencer knows that he has to be quick.

It’s been seven days since he has arrived in Arlington, seven days since you’ve sent him that message through your flower – and Spencer is worried you might get impatient. You don’t really like waiting, however you didn’t do anything to Robert – which is why Spencer was confused at first.

Even though he understood that Robert was his test, to prove his loyalty to you, Spencer couldn’t understand why you didn’t want to kill him yourself. Whether he touched you or not, Spencer expected you to get your revenge on him as well – just like you did with your father, but you didn’t.

Why?

Just to let Spencer prove his devotion for you?

Just to let Spencer prove his desperation to have you or see you?

“Spencer can’t know about this.”

He stops in his tracks as the sound of JJ’s voice captures his attention.

“He has to know, Emily.”

“No, he doesn’t. Spencer needs to stay focused on this case.” – Emily says, her voice stern and not discussable - “I’m not going to jeopardize this investigation just because someone claimed to have seen Y/N around. She’s not the main focus of this investigation.”

Spencer knows very well you’re in this town. You’ve been in Arlington probably even before the team arrived, triggered by the presence of your Uncle and your thirst for revenge over him. You’ve been quiet, too quiet, but apparently now someone saw you.

Spencer knows he shouldn’t be happy, because if that sighting is true, then you’re in danger. What if Emily decides to hunt you down in private? What if she asks another team to hunt you down while they focus on Robert? What if she wants to catch two birds with one stone?

Taking a step forward, Spencer opens the door of the room his team is settled in. JJ looks at him for a brief moment, then she sits back on her chair and keeps working on her file whereas Tara and Emily head out to talk to the head of the police department. They need to speak with whoever has seen you around, they need to make sure that you’re not going to interfere with the investigation.

When Spencer and David came back from their afternoon with Olivia, they told everything to Emily and the rest of the team.

You’re there to get your revenge over your Uncle’s behaviour towards you. If he can’t get to Olivia and Samantha because they’re being protected by local enforcement, he will have to start looking for you – and knowing you are in town, somewhere they don’t know, he can get to you easily if he knows that you’ve escaped prison.

You probably bragged about him and killing his brother, which could’ve been another trigger or at least a stressor when he found out.

Penelope didn’t find much on your father’s family, just that he and his brother were separated as soon as they got older. They weren’t bad kids, they were completely normal until your uncle started to touch women without their consent and your father began to kidnap strangers and slash their throats, with no apparent reason.

Your family was weird.

Penelope is not surprised you grew up like that, sick and twisted like them.

However, she felt bad for what happened to you and what she found out. She knows that Spencer asked her to send everything she could find on you, but Emily ordered not to – if Penelope had sent him everything, he would’ve found a way to get to Robert before everyone and choke him with his own hands.

That’s exactly what you want.

“We don’t have anything.” – David breaks the silence within the team – “People here saw Y/N, but not Robert. How’s that possible? Either he has a house nobody knows about, or there’s something wrong here.”

“Penelope already checked his old apartment with Cecily, but there’s a family living there now. She also checked the warehouse where he used to work in, but it has been turned into a supermarket.” – Luke explains, crossing his arms to his chest – “Both Samantha and Olivia said that he used to take them behind their high school, but we’ve already checked the place and there are cameras there. No one has been seen there.”

Spencer walks towards the window, opening it. “There must be a place he used to be obsessed with. A place where he’s holding all of his victims now and where he probably is now, trying to pick the next target.”

“Do you think it has something to do with his past? Maybe with his family?” JJ asks

The young doctor shrugs, leaning against the wall. “It could be. Maybe an old holiday house or something connected to his family, maybe even connected to Y/N. She was his first victim.”

David scratches his chin again. “The first?”

“Yes. Robert didn’t touch her, but he brought her with him each time he was hurting a woman.” – Luke mumbles, lowering his eyes to look at the files Penelope sent the team earlier – “She wasn’t raped, but Robert threatened to rape her once she got old enough for him. Or so we know.”

Spencer’s nose twitches as he looks out of the window, trying to repress all the anger ready to jump out of his body. It feels like he’s holding back, his hands are itching to choke something and hurt someone, but he can’t. He can’t get ahead of the team, he has to respect Emily’s orders and hope that she lets him be the one to catch him – unless he gets there first.

Unless he finds a way to get to Robert and put his hands on his neck, ending his miserable life.

“Did she go to the police to report Robert?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise the police wouldn’t have allowed the charges to be dropped.” – JJ answers, dialling Penelope’s number again – “Hey Pen.”

“Office of the Enchanted Oracle, speak and be heard.”

“When Y/N reported her uncle, who did she talk to?”

Silence fills the room for a few seconds as Penelope hums, trying to find the information requested.

“She went to the local church here in Arlington. She used to go there to attend Holy mass every Sunday when she was a child, even after her father was arrested and her mother left her.” – Penelope mumbles, reading from the screen in front of her – “Y/N reported Robert to Father Dylan.”

Spencer gets closer to the table. “Is he still in service?”

“Yes, he is.” – Penelope says – “I’m sending you his address now.”

A few seconds later, Spencer’s phone receives a text with the man’s address. He’s not sure he’s going to find Robert there, but Father Dylan must know something - either about you or Robert.

This whole situation is a mess and yes, Robert is trying to avenge the loss of his marriage and his family, but he’s also trying to get to you somehow. Spencer feels like there’s something he doesn’t know about, something you haven’t told him because you can’t let him see you.

What?

What is he missing?

“I’m going to pay a visit to Father Dylan.” – Luke says, immediately glancing at the young doctor standing beside him – “Spencer, do you want to go for a ride?”

Spencer gives him a smile, nodding. “Yes, please.”

“I have a question.”

Spencer turns to look at his colleague. “Shoot.”

Luke stops with the black car at a traffic light. “Why does Robert want to target Y/N? She was the first one to accuse him, I understand, but is it just because he’s mourning the loss of his wife?”

“Or maybe he doesn’t know his brother is still alive.” – the young doctor tells him – “And he wants to avenge his brother by using his other victims’ as an excuse to lure Y/N here. He knows she’d do anything to protect people who have been hurt the way she has, so...”

“Okay, but the first victim was murdered a few days after he was released, which means luring Y/N here wasn’t his priority.” – Luke replies to his colleague, briefly glancing at him – “Let’s stick to your theory and mine. Robert kills Elizabeth when he gets out of prison, then he gets to Zoe. He finds out Y/N tried to kill her father and she escaped prison.”

Spencer follows Luke’s train of thought. “Robert realises that getting to Y/N will be difficult, so he tries to scare her.”

"Scaring a serial killer will have the opposite effect. What if Y/N is here because she wants to kill Robert?”

Luke can’t know that you asked Spencer to kill Robert for you, so Spencer has to lie to his team again.

“It’s possible. Y/N wants to protect women who got hurt, it’s likely she wants to do the same with the women her uncle hurt in the past.” – Spencer says, unbuckling his belt once Luke has stopped driving - “I think this case is personal to her.”

“Okay, so this means Y/N heard about the murders in this town. How?”

“I don’t know. Maybe after not being able to kill her father, she decided to come back to her roots.” – the young doctor mumbles, closing the car door with a loud thud – “Maybe she just wanted to come back and see if she could start living a new life.”

Luke shakes his head, following Spencer to the entrance of the church. “It wouldn’t make sense. She hasn’t been in Arlington, there are no cases connected to her. Unless...”

“Unless we consider her past having something to do with the whole case.” Spencer finishes the sentence for him

They grow silent as soon as they step inside the church, spotting Father Dylan next to the altar. He’s fixing a vase of flowers right in front of the monstrance, so they wait to approach him until he’s done with his job.

Spencer is growing nervous as the seconds go by.

He didn’t know anything about your past because most of it was a blur or it wasn’t described in your records. If Penelope hadn’t unsealed your file and hadn’t mentioned you, Spencer would’ve never understood why you were there in the first place. At the same time, why would you pick that specific town and taunt him with flowers if the case hadn’t anything to do with you?

You’re a psychopath and you love to gloat about your crimes, but not to the point of claiming these murders as your works.

Spencer also knows you pretty well by now, he knows how you work. He has studied you, just like his team.

“Father Dylan? SSA Alvez and SSA Reid from the FBI.” – Luke interrupts Spencer’s thoughts, showing the priest his badge – “We’d like to ask you some questions.”

Father Dylan leaves the flowers on the altar. “Anything, Agents.”

Spencer looks around. There’s a strong scent of roses lingering in the air and the Church is covered in bouquets.

“Do you remember Y/N Y/L/N? She used to live here seventeen years ago.” – Spencer lowers his voice, now focused on the priest’s face – “She came to you because she had a problem with Robert Y/L/N. Her uncle.”

The priest looks surprised as he puts a heart over his chest. “Oh, I remember her. I saw her on the news a few months ago. Poor girl, she was troubled.”

‘Troubled’ isn’t even the beginning of it, but Spencer stays quiet.

You weren’t a troubled child, you were traumatised by a man who’s looking for you, who’s desperately seeking revenge for your actions and who has threatened to rape you if you hadn’t collaborated with him. You were just a child and you were forced to see a man humiliating and torturing a woman in the worst way possible, by abusing her body.

You must have been terrified in those moments. Hearing those women crying for help and begging you to do something must’ve been what led you to become who you are now. A monster seeking revenge against criminals who decided that women mean nothing – you decided to turn them into nothing, proving that women are not as weak as men make them out to be.

Spencer is not sure they’re going to find you, or at least that’s what he hopes, but he has to find Robert. He needs to prove he’s worthy of you.

“When Robert attended mass here with Y/N, was there a place they used to go?” – Luke says, noticing the priest’s confused expression – “I know this question sounds weird, but we’re looking for him and we can’t find him anywhere.”

“Robert came back to Arlington when he was released from prison. The whole town turned against him: they didn’t want him to find a new job, nobody wanted to rent him or sell him an apartment. He was lost in this town.” – the priest explains, crossing his arms to his chest – “He needed a place to stay, so I offered him a room in the rectory. I don’t live there anymore, so I thought...”

Spencer interrupts him. “Have you seen him today?”

“He was in the rectory less than ten minutes ago, he should still be here.” – Father Dylan says, pointing to the door behind the altar – “He was cleaning the garage behind the rectory. He’s probably still there!”

Luke doesn’t need Spencer to speak up about his plans, because as soon as the priest stopped talking, Spencer started to walk towards the door. In silence, Luke follows Spencer; both of them are holding their guns, ready to shoot Robert if he tries to do something.

The rectory is the perfect spot for Robert, especially if he uses the garage and doesn’t let Father Dylan near it. It’s likely they had this conversation because Spencer could see the fear behind the priest’s eyes at the mention of your uncle’s name, but it wasn’t necessary to ask particular questions. Spencer knew better.

Luke and Spencer walk down an empty hallway.

The stinging scent of bleach is what captures their attention. Why would you use an enormous amount of bleach to clean a rectory? Unless you’ve committed a murder in it and you’re trying to cover up your tracks, so the gentle priest who’s kind enough to let you stay there doesn’t know what you’re up to.

Spencer is the first one to walk inside the garage, hearing the soft sound of a female voice behind the closed door of the room he’s in. It’s not your voice, yours is much more lighter – but it doesn’t matter, because Spencer stumbles out of the garage.

Luke spots Robert not too far away from where they are.

When the man turns around and sees two Federal Agents with their guns pointed at him, he does what every criminal does best: retracts his gun and starts shooting, pushing the woman he was talking to down on the floor. She shrieks, smashing her forehead against the floor.

Spencer starts running towards him, barely noticing they’re heading inside of a cemetery. He doesn’t care, because now he has only one target. A target you begged him to find. A target that deserves to be shot right in the heart, or everywhere else on his body.

He has to get Robert.

He can’t let him get away.

He can’t let him get to you.

Spencer feels his heart throbbing hard in his chest, the adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream and rushing through his body. The blood rushing in his ears and the heaving breaths he’s taking as he runs, make Spencer think he’s not going to stop.

He won’t stop running until he catches Robert.

And when he does, it’ll be over for the man.

Right behind him, Luke is running as fast as he can. There’s something wrong in the air, he can almost taste it – Luke wants to catch Robert because of the pain he has put too many families through, but he knows that Spencer has other plans for him.

Spencer wants to kill Robert.

It’s obvious.

Still, Luke doesn’t stop him – and nobody needs to know.

“Robert Y/L/N!”

Spencer finally grasps the man by his shirt, making him trip on his own feet. Without pulling away, Spencer points the gun right between the man’s eyes. He’s about to pull the trigger, excited by the adrenaline pumping even harder through his bloodstream, when Robert decides to speak.

“You must be the Bee my Daisy is looking for.”

Spencer kicks Robert’s gun away from his hand, crushing his chest with his foot.

“You have no right to mention her name.”

“And you have no right to kill me.”

Robert manages to knock Spencer on the ground, tackling him and using a rock to press down on his throat. Spencer coughs and he can feel the oxygen decrease in his brain, in his throat, in every inch of his body – but he’s not going to stop fighting.

Just because Robert is bigger than him, it doesn’t mean he has to win.

Luke is still too far away from them and he has lost Spencer, probably because he was distracted by the desperate sound of his phone going off in his pocket. He had promised Emily to call her once they knew more about the priest’s story, but the chance to catch Robert was there.

They couldn’t let it go.

Now, Luke almost regrets it.

“You know, I’ve always thought Y/N was a gorgeous girl. Now she’s even prettier, maybe she’d let a real man touch her the way she deserves.” – Robert grits through his teeth, covering Spencer’s mouth with his hand – “Isn’t that right, Agent?”

Spencer can’t bear the sound of his pet-name coming from the man’s mouth. The image of your uncle thinking about touching you, dreaming about owning you the way Spencer had, is too much for him – he has to fight and he has to win for you, no matter what it takes.

Twisting his neck, Spencer manages to feel Robert’s fingers on his tongue – and he bites down on them, making the man yelp in pain. Blood spills out from the broken skin over his fingers and Spence can taste it on his tongue, flooding his insides with that delicious warmth you’ve felt over and over again in the last three years of your active job.

Is this how it feels to kill a man who has hurt people?

Why hasn’t Spencer felt this rush before? And why does it have to feel so fucking good?

Spencer pushes the man off his own body and immediately rolls on top of him, grasping him by the hair and smashing his head on the ground. Robert is gasping, desperately seeking to tear Spencer’s throat apart with his fingers. He tries to grab something on the ground, maybe another rock to smack Spencer with, but he’s not quick enough.

Robert wants to hurt an FBI agent, but that’s not going to happen.

Spencer grasps his gun from the floor and shoots him.

It’s self-defence, he knows it. Luke knows it, and so do you.

Sitting down on the wooden bench right behind the scene of the collision, you bring the Black Dahlia up to your nose to inhale the soft scent. The soft petals of the flower tickle your skin, but you’re used to it – you can never grow tired of that feeling.

Of that sight.

Of all the blood that has been spilled.

Blood that belongs to a man who has hurt too many people. Who has caused terrible, atrocious pain to an enormous amount of people. A man that can’t kill or taunt anybody else. A man that can’t get closer to you anymore because he’s dead.

It brings a smile to your face and it makes your heart jump in your chest.

You knew Spencer was going to prove his loyalty to you. You knew he was going to understand the message you were trying to send him and it makes you incredibly proud to know that he hasn’t said a single word to his team – otherwise you would’ve been caught by now.

Being in the same town as the FBI, who’s working on a case that involves you, is exhausting and terrifying but you had Spencer there to protect you. And he proved his loyalty again, showing you that no matter what he did less than nine months ago, he’s still your bee.

Your sweet, innocent Bee who was waiting, so desperately, for the spring to come.

Taking a step back from the wooden bench, you gently lean the Black Dahlia where you were sitting and you look back up. Those honey coloured eyes are staring back at you.

The same pair you were dreaming of at night.

The same pair that looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

The same pair that screamed at you how much they loved you.

The same pair you’re going to admire every single day for the rest of your life.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something, probably to call out your name, when Luke approaches him from behind. The honey-coloured eyes man turns to look at his colleague and then, with fear in his heart, looks back to where you were.

He doesn’t find you.

You’ve already vanished.

“Are you sure you want to be alone tonight?” – Luke asks, climbing inside his own car in the parking lot of the Headquarters – “I’m worried about you, man.”

“I’m fine, Luke. This is not the first time I get attacked by an unsub.” – Spencer mumbles, sitting on his seat and hissing when he involuntarily touches his knee with a hand – “It’s just a scratch, it’ll go away in a few weeks if not less.”

Spencer knows what Luke really means, but he’s not going to say it out loud.

Everyone on the jet was kind enough to stay quiet, ignoring the fact that Spencer Reid had a close-up fight with an unsub that whispered something awful to him. They didn’t know what it was and Spencer definitely wasn't going to tell them.

JJ and Tara fell asleep on each other’s shoulder, while David was busy reading a book. Emily and Luke spent the whole flight watching a movie, but they ended up falling asleep.

The case took a toll on everyone.

Especially on Spencer.

When he came back to his hotel room last night, after getting checked out by paramedics for those scratches on his knees and those bruises all over his neck, Spencer was hoping to find you on his bed.

He opened the door of his room with shaky hands, a smile plastered all over his lips, but he soon was disappointed.

You weren’t there.

Spencer was all alone in the bedroom. No flowers to greet him, no cheeky grin, no cocky smile, no sensual voice caressing him all over.

Nothing, he was alone.

You were there on the scene, looking at him and making sure that Spencer took care of that task you’ve begged him to complete, but then you disappeared. You were supposed to meet him, you were supposed to want him as much as he obviously wants you, but he got disappointed.

Should he still wait for you?

Should he stop obsessing over you?

The rest of the ride home from the headquarters is silent.

Spencer doesn’t want to talk. He just wants to get back home and sleep. Sleep, sleep until he’s tired of sleeping – and then he’ll read until his eyes cross and he falls asleep again.

He knows that Luke is worried about him, but there’s no need to. Spencer is not a doll that needs to be taken care of, unless you are the one to take care of him. Isn’t that what you promised him the same day you kidnapped him?

Well, it wasn’t a kidnapping.

Spencer willingly left with you after you sucked him off, looking at him with those adorable big eyes and cheeky smile. A smile that enchanted him beyond words, a smile that captured his own and broke it when you disappeared the day before.

If the truth ever comes out, what would his team do?

They’d stop trusting Spencer and they’d have every reason to do so, but they would never be able to understand his relationship with you. You might be a psychopath that doesn’t care about anybody, but you – but the way you looked at him in the eyes, the way you kissed him and made love to him... Spencer knew they all meant something.

You’re a good liar, but not a perfect one.

“Thanks for the ride, Luke.”

“No problem.” – his colleague says, stopping the car – “Have a great weekend, Spencer.”

Gathering his backpack and his leather satchel, Spencer climbs out of the car. The fresh air of the night hits him as he walks towards the entrance of his building, headed directly to his apartment. Luke drives out of the parking lot and Spencer turns around, staring at the empty road right in front of him.

Lying to your best friend is never a good idea, but Spencer can’t let Luke know that he saw you. Luke and the team can’t know that you were at the scene, carefully watching Spencer as he shot the man beneath him - or it would cause a disaster of enormous proportions.

Spencer struggles to walk up the stairs, but he manages to get to the door of his house.

Every muscle in his body is screaming at him to lay down and get the rest he so desperately needs. Spencer pulls out his keys from his coat and yawns loudly, ready to find his apartment in perfect shape and excited to finally launch himself on top of his mattress.

He has missed his bed.

Unlocking the door, Spencer enters his apartment.

All the lights are turned down. There’s no scent of flowers in the air.

Have you left Spencer for good?

Have you decided he’s not worthy of your time anymore?

Spencer closes the door behind his back and turns the lights in the living room on, kicking his shoes off and leaving his backpack on the floor. He’ll put everything away tomorrow morning, after a good night of sleep - he hopes not to dream of you, since you decided to leave him.

How is that fair?

Spencer killed your uncle for you.

You should be grateful, you could’ve left him a flower.

Sighing, Spencer unbuttons his shirt and leaves it on his couch. He needs a shower, but right now he barely has the strength to walk back to his bedroom. He’s too tired, he’s in pain and his throat hurts.

When the lights in his bedroom turn on, Spencer looks up.

Something’s not right.

With a hand on his gun and his heart pounding in his chest, he holds his breath.

Ever so gracefully, you walk out of his bedroom wearing nothing, but a skimpy black dress and a pair of matching high-heels. You’re holding a Black Dahlia in your hands as you lean against the wall, playing with the flower and inhaling the sweet scent it radiates.

Spencer can’t breathe right, and it’s not because his throat hurts.

Your eyes are filled with happiness and your smile is not cocky, it’s sincere. Spencer wasn’t expecting you to be there, he thought you left him. He thought he was never going to see you again, but you’re there.

You came back.

“Hey Bee. Did you miss me?”

Spencer lets his arms fall to his sides, admiring you. “Dahlia.”

“That’s my name.” - you whisper, walking up to him until your lips are a few inches away from his - “Don’t you ever forget it, my sweet innocent Bee.”

And without letting him answer, you close the distance between you.

110 notes · View notes

not-neverland06 · 10 months

Text

Broken Machinery

Pt. 4 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: A long one, I wanted some more domestic moments between the two, sue me. Black dahlia’s represent betrayal (or it’s just a nice gift for that emo friend in your life)

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), body breaking like fine china, shoulders out of sockets (not that bad but I googled a picture of one and it’s gross), overdose (but not really), past death of a child (not reader’s), readers got hair long enough to be in a braid, death of a pot

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

Shoulders aren’t supposed to look like that. They’re sure as fuck not supposed to feel like that either. You can’t even lift your arm to peel off your jacket, you don’t have to though, they’re dislocated.

“Y/N!” Calloused hands on your wrist and then all of your body weight is jerked down and hanging from your shoulders, you can feel the moment they rip out of socket, you can’t help the guttural scream that rips its way out of your throat.

The pain from your everywhere is momentarily ignored as you lay in Hank’s lap, sobbing with the relief that you’re still alive. You’re not dead or a paraplegic somewhere in a hospital bed, you’re breathing. You can feel Hank trembling, you’re not sure from what, but he’s silent as he holds you.

You must be going into shock, you can’t really feel anything as he slowly gets you on your feet. You can’t feel your legs moving down the stairwell or him directing you towards the group of patrol cars. One moment you’re on the roof, then you blink, and you’re standing behind an ambulance being looked over by paramedics.

“Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder,”

Guess it was only the one shoulder, then.

They’re looking you over to assess the damage done. You can just stare blankly down at your sneakers. You’re trying to remember what exactly happened on the roof. But it’s all a blur of adrenaline and primal panic.

He was holding you over the edge, talking to someone. Who?

“Detective! Lieutenant!” Your head shoots up, you ignore the stabbing pain that travels down your spine.

Connor, Connor will save you.

Except he didn’t, he walked away.

He walked away.

You yank your arm free from the paramedic, ignore Hank as he tries to stop you and storm over to Connor. You’d say the look on his face is proud, but you’re not gonna let your heart trick your mind into thinking this plastic son of a bitch can feel anything at all.

“Y/N, I’ve successfully apprehended the deviant.” You’ve still got one good arm. You don’t aim for his face, that won’t do any good, you punch him right in the bio component and watch him crumple to the floor. When hes down you kick your foot into the same spot as hard as fucking possible, ignoring any pain that it brings you.

“Congratu-fucking-lations.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

It’s been two days and the detective still refuses to acknowledge Connor. He’d tried to explain his reasoning for leaving her in favor of catching the deviant.

FIND Y/N

Connor double checked the door on the hospital room, he could hear Hank and Y/N bickering from inside. “What did the doctors say?” There was a pause before she responded.

“Another day of bed rest,” she sounded reluctant to answer. Connor hadn’t been able to speak with her after the incident on the roof; he'd had to go straight to CyberLife technicians for repairs. She’d done considerable damage to his biocomponent.

Maybe I deserved it.

“Then get your ass back in bed.”

“Hank, please, I’ve suffered a lot worse than this and made it out perfectly fine.”

Hank didn’t sound amused, and there was a loud thud as something landed on sheets. “I don’t care, Y/N! You’re staying right there, it’s not just your fucking physical issues you have to worry about. I’ve never seen you act like that before, I’m worried about what that fall did to your head.” There was a moment of silence and Connor thought it was a smart time to go inside.

There seemed to be a strange, different sort of silence when he walked into the room. Connor wished his hands were free, there were no objectives or dialogue options to pick from as Hank and Y/N both turned towards him. His hands were full, he looked down to the potted black dahlia between them.

He outstretched his hands and moved towards Y/N. She just stared at him from her spot on the bed, unsure of what to do now, he looked to Hank for an order.

The Lieutenant was watching him with crossed arms and an undetermined look on his face.

Connor cleared his throat and placed the flower down on the table near the bed. He scanned her, a minor concussion, two cracked ribs, and one dislocated shoulder. Her heartbeat was increasing the longer he stared, adrenaline and cortisol reaching a level that told him she was very upset about something.

“Your arm seems to be healing at a good pace. You should listen to the Lieutenant, a couple more days rest and you’ll be feeling much better.” The room remained silent and Connor reached up to fix his already perfect tie. There was something odd about him as he felt the stares of his partners. Something inside felt off.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“I’m programmed with psychological software that could help you after recovering from a strong shock.”

SUPPORT

ANALYTICAL

STAY QUIET

Connor immediately knew what he said was the wrong choice.

“A strong shock?” Your voice was quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch what you said, but the room was so deathly still it was impossible for you not to be heard. “A strong shock?” You were quickly gaining in volume. “You left me to fucking die! And for what, for the goddamn android to smash its fucking brains out on the interrogation table before we got anything! I would have died for nothing!”

Connor opened his mouth, prepared to argue his side of the problem, but you cut him off with a quiet question he wasn’t expecting. “What was the chance?”

“Sorry?”

You walked up closer to him and tugged his tie so hard he stumbled into you, you used the shock of the movement to jerk him down lower than you. “The chance of my survival, RK800, what was it?”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

That strange feeling was back, the use of his model instead of his name made him feel wrong.

He shouldn’t be feeling at all.

When he took too long to answer you knocked his legs out from under him and tightened your grip on the tie. “40%,” he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible but it was clear both you and the liteuant heard him.

You released him like it had burned you to keep holding on to his tie, and the Lieutenant muttered a quiet, “Fucking bastard.” Connor opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but wanting this feeling to stop and needing the tears forming in the corners of your eyes to go away.

You and the bag you had been packing were gone by the time he had gotten to his feet, Hank stayed behind a moment, gave Connor a long look before following after you. Connor straightened his tie and sleeves and stared at his shoes. He didn’t know what to do.

There was no objective, there was nobody to give him an order. He lifted his eyes to the flower sitting on the table in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he ignored the way his LED flashed red in a mirror as he reached forwards and grabbed the potted plant.

Connor looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding an umbrella, he was back in the Zen Garden. Amanda was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge.

They walked under the umbrella together. “That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case, a pity it deactivated before you could get any useful information out of it.”

Connor felt the need to defend himself, “Deviants are extremely irrational, which makes it difficult to anticipate their behavior… I should have been more effective.” The last part of his sentence came out without any thought behind it. Like it was an instinct to automatically blame himself, even though no one would know what the deviant could have been planning.

“Did you manage to learn anything?” Connor told her of the strange drawings on the walls, the ones like mazes and the journal that had a strange code inside it. He still had no explanation for rA9 and he could tell Amanda was disappointed.

“You captured the deviant at the cost of your relationship with the detective, have you made any development in that fixing that?”

Connor couldn’t help but think of your face in the hospital room, you were angry yes, but you also seemed . . . Sad.

Connor wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was guilt, but he knew he shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving her to fall. We had an altercation in her hospital room, after the fact and whatever good grace we had developed seems to have been erased.” Connor stopped once he realized Amanda was no longer following.

“We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread, it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

Connor straightened his shoulders back and looked down at her, “I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Don’t let relationships get in the way of success, Connor. Improve on them if you can, but remember their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of your mission.”

“Detective?” Connor knocked on your door again. You lived in a house about fifteen minutes away from the lieutenant’s. He’d attempted to contact Anderson to get your address, he’d hung up every time he’d realized it was Connor calling him. Eventually he just used the information from your personnel file.

Which is how he ended up peering through your windows, trying to catch a glimpse of where you were. Eventually he managed to get a small peak through one of your blinds in the living room. You were asleep on the couch, the TV playing, and there was something in your hand. Connor pressed his face fully against the glass and alarms went through his processors at what he saw.

Pills were spilled on the ground and the bottle was empty in the loose grip of your hand. Connor attempted a scan to see if you were even breathing, but after unsuccessfully trying to wake you up and get your attention he simply broke the glass.

Connor quickly dove through the window and rushed to your side on the couch. He took in your appearance, your mouth was open, barely any breath going in or out. Your lips and nails were discolored and there was a clammy feeling to your skin when Connor pressed his hand to your forehead. He needed to get you awake and alert, first and foremost.

He lightly brought his hand down on your cheek, you shifted but stayed unconscious. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I need you to wake up.”

He brought his hand down harder and your hand immediately swung out in response. Connors cheek whipped to the left at the force of your slap, it didn’t hurt of course, but it still shocked him.

“What the hell? Connor? Did you just slap me?” Connor looked down at you, extremely confused at your sudden alertness. He couldn’t stop you in time to not notice what he had done to your window. “The fuck? Did you break my goddamn window?” You used his face as an assist in pushing yourself off the couch, his hands went to your hips to stabilize you.

Connor stood as you kneeled down by the broken glass on your ground, swaying slightly. “Shit, I can’t afford to fix this,” you groaned at the sight of the rain pouring into the empty frame. “My things! They’re all getting wet.” Connor walked over and moved anything around the frame to the wall, making sure nothing besides your carpet would get wet. You were silent as you went and retrieved some plastic to cover the window up. Connor wanted to say something to you, but he was unsure what would help the situation.

“Why did you bust in here like the Kool-Aid Man?”

“I thought you had overdosed.” You seemed to finally take in the mess around the couch.

“Oh, crap.” Connor watched you as you picked up the pills and put them back in the bottle, he finished up the window and moved towards where you were sitting on the couch. Your head was in your hands like it was bringing you pain.

Your voice snapped him out of his observation. “You know, for a state of the art android, you’re a real dumbass.” Connor looked down at you, his face must have displayed something he couldn’t identify because you laughed a little.

“My nails look weird because I haven’t finished painting them,” you pointed towards the nail polish bottles on your coffee table. “I haven’t used any chapstick or taken my iron supplements, so there’s lips. And I got tired and fell asleep with the pill bottle in my hand. I was gonna take one for my headache but passed out after I opened the damn thing, which is probably why my head hurts so much.”

Connor was disappointed with himself at everything he had missed, he should have seen all that from the window and not taken such drastic measures. His damage to your domicile had only worsened relations between you. Right now, you hated him worse than Hank.

“You were barely breathing.”

You shot him a deadpan look, “Deep sleeper.” Connor fixed his tie and looked around the house for something to occupy himself with. There was trash everywhere, dirty clothes scattered the ground, and old dished piled in the sink.

“Hey, hey! I don’t need your judgy ass android eyes making me feel bad for my pig sty. Okay?”

“Allow me to help, detective.” Your eyes narrowed, you didn’t seem particularly trusting towards Connor. He couldn't blame you, he’d completely destroyed the small bridge of trust he’d managed to make with both you and the lieutenant. “Your shoulder and ribs are still damaged, I understand it’s difficult to take care of yourself right now. Allow me to help you.”

You laid back down on the couch, and Connor thought you were going to ignore him until you spoke up after a couple of moments of silence. “You’re a detective bot, not a house maid.” You paused before waving your hand through the air. “But sure, whatever, knock yourself out. Just stop fucking standing over me like that.” Connor watched you close your eyes, he continued standing there for a few seconds. You seemed to be faking sleep to try and get him away from you.

At least he finally had an objective he could follow now.

TAKE CARE OF Y/N

He started with the kitchen. Cleaning the takeout boxes off the counter and grabbing any dirty dishes scattered around your home. He stopped when picking some napkins off your coffee table, to check on you. Your breathing had settled and your back was turned towards him. You appeared to actually be asleep this time.

Connor frowned at the position your body was in. You were going to do more harm than good sleeping on your worn down couch. He placed the trash can on the ground and stepped silently towards you. He made sure to be as still and gentle as possible as he slowly rolled you into his arms. You only moved once, to settle your head in his neck.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

He ignored the way his thirium pump seemed to move faster and how the blue blood rushes towards his head. It simply wasn’t possible.

Connor went down the hall and to your bedroom on the right. He gently deposited you into your unmade bed and tucked the sheets over your body. He checked your pulse and scanned your body. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

You were just a disturbingly deep sleeper.

On his way out, something shining on the ground caught his eye. He made his way towards your dresser, at the foot of it appeared to be a picture frame. He looked over his shoulder to ensure you were still asleep before he bent down and grabbed it.

You appeared to be around nineteen years old. You were sitting on a roundabout smiling at the camera, your hair done in two French braids. Your arms were wrapped around a young boy around the age of three. He had his hand around your forearms and was making a strange face at the camera with his tongue out. Neither of you seemed aware your picture was being taken at the moment.

The scan confirmed your identity and gave him the identity of the boy.

DECEASED

Anderson, Cole

9/23/2029-10/11/2035.

Y/LN, Y/N

DPD Detective

Other known aliases:

Y/N ANDERSON

Hank had a son, who had died? You both appeared close in this picture. It’s approximately three years before Cole’s death. Could the death of Hank’s son be what caused the drift between the two of you?

Connor heard you shift on the bed and quickly put the picture back down on the floor. He didn’t believe you would appreciate him further investigating your life. Not when you got so upset with him when he simply took a look at your adoption papers.

Connor examined this new piece of information. It was like he was working two cases at once, solving the deviancy problem.

And trying to figure out your unfortunate past with the Lieutenant. Knowing now that the Lieutenant's son had died he could go ahead and assume that’s when your relationship started to go downhill. A year after Cole’s death is when Hank’s divorce became official, according to the papers he not so legally acquired.

The death of a child will often destroy families, if Hank could no longer be a viable partner to his wife, then perhaps he could also no longer be a father to you.

Judging by the Lieutenants drinking habits he didn’t have a healthy view on mental health, or know how to properly deal with grief.

The way you seem to isolate yourself when Connor brings up your past or tries to have a better understanding of your emotional well being, he can also go ahead and come to the conclusion that Hank passed on his unhealthy coping skills to you.

His assumption is proved correct when he comes across a packet of cigarettes buried between the couch cushions. They’re unopened but the plastic surrounding the carton has been picked at. You seem to be trying to stop yourself from giving in to your unhealthy impulses.

Connor frowns down at the box and decides to do you a favor, he throws them in the trash.

Connor continues cleaning up your home while you sleep, attempting to wash and dry your dishes as quietly as possible. The cleaning gives himself something to occupy his mind with, the frantic, buzzing thoughts about deviants and his frustrating partners temporarily quiet while he focuses on one singular task.

PROTECT Y/N

Connor always accomplishes his missions, even if that just means making sure you can wake up to a clean home, or if he has to protect you from self-sabotaging habits.

You wake up to the smell of smoke and a loud blaring alarm.

You’re soaked in a puddle of your own sweat and have no idea where you are or what day it is. Your head shoots up from your pillow at the sound of something crashing onto the floor in your kitchen. You take a second to realize that you’ve been moved to your bed.

Then you remember what woke you up and you’re bolting out of bed. “Jesus Christ,” your kitchen is a smoky haze as you cough on the suffocating smell of something burned. Connor is standing in front of a pan on your stove, simply watching the flames. “Connor!” You grab a lid off the counter and shove him out of the way as you slam it over the pan, suffocating the flames. You quickly grab the metal sheet off the ground and slam it into Connor’s chest. “Quick make sure the sprinklers don’t go off.” Connor runs towards the alarm in the hallway and immediately starts waving it around.

The sight of Connor, the emotionless android who is always calm and collected, frantically running around waving a metal pan in the air, jumping up and down to get closer to the smoke alarm makes you double over in laughter. There’s an ache in your rbis and arm from the force of your laughter, but you don’t care. You haven’t felt this light for years, you haven’t laughed like that in years.

So you allow yourself to bask in the moment, one peaceful moment where you’re not weighed down by anything, except the weight of your own joy.

Connor didn’t hear you laughing until he finally managed to get the alarm quieted. The joints in his shoulders were tired from his wild maneuvering, but it was worth it. This was the first time since you met that his observation of you showed endorphins and a positive change in your body, not one that comes from feelings of negativity.

It felt like something was in his chest, lifting him up and lightening his weight as he watched you.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Perhaps you did more damage when you attacked him than he originally thought. Your face contorted in pain as you finally raised up from your position. Connor moved before his processors could give him the option to. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he assisted you in standing. He pointedly ignored your protests that you didn’t need help.

You did and you were getting help whether you wanted it or not.

There was still a slight smile on your face as Connor deposited you on the chair next to your table. He moved towards the stove and turned off the burner, dropping the ruined pot in your sink and running water over it, your house still smelled very strongly of burnt food.

He heard a grunt coming from his right, when he turned something inside his head felt strange. LIke he wasn’t okay with what was happening, perhaps humans called this irritation. A concerning thought, but one he ignored in favor of nudging you aside while you failed to open a window.

“Connor-”

The look he shot you when he turned around was enough to get you to sit back down. “Why are you so stubborn? You should not be here alone, you’ve taken too much damage to even do basic household chores.”

You looked around your house and finally noticed all the hard work he had put in. “Holy shit.” There was a look of appreciation on your face until you turned towards Connor. A pout formed on your face and you crossed your arms like a petulant child, “Maybe I wanted the mess. I liked it like that.”

Were you seriously having this argument with him right now? You being difficult for no reason was causing his programming to go haywire. There were red warnings in the corner of his eye telling him he was going to overheat, he dismissed them and stormed towards you.

His hand landed on the table more harshly than he intended, causing you to jump in your seat. “You’re behaving like a child, Y/N, you’re a grown woman act like it! You need my help, there’s nothing wrong with letting me assist you, so just let me help you.” Without consciously activating it the voice he uses during intimidation tactics had been used.

His eyes were drawn down to your thighs, you had them clenched tightly together, your thighs pooling out on the chair below you. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him. Connor quickly scanned you, your heat level was rising, your heart rate had accelerated and there was an increased level of estrogen and testosterone production. A thermal scan showed an increase of heat in your pelvic area.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE?

It wasn’t until the message appeared in front of him and blocked his view of your face did he realize how close he was to you.

This was highly inappropriate. You were injured and still upset with him, there was no need to seduce you.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE

He was designed with the intent to complete his mission at any cost. In case there was ever an issue between him and one of his partners and other more illicit methods were needed to gain their support, he was equipped with the capabilities to do so. This wasn’t a situation where methods like that were necessary, so why was there a prompt for it?

Connor backed away from you immediately, it wasn’t right to be taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability. From the corner of his eye he saw you slump back down into your chair. “What-“ you cleared your throat. “What were you even trying to make?”

Connor looked back towards the pot, his hands reached for the coin in his pocket. He needed to do something to get his software back in order. He didn’t turn to look at you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus. He thought back to the pasta sauce on your counter. “Spaghetti, for some reason the noodles burned onto the bottom of the pot.” After he was done recalibrating he placed the coin back in his pocket and found it was okay to look at you now.

Your eyes were glued to his hand for a moment before they shot back up to his face. “Burned, to the bottom of the pot? How the hell do you burn water?”

Connor tilted his head to the side, “Water?”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened. “You’re kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.” Connor didn't know how to respond to you so he remained silent. “Oh my god,” you dropped your head into your hands. “You didn’t put water in the pot.”

“Was that required?” You didn’t answer him, instead you stood and walked over to the sink, Connor followed behind you, unsure what you wanted him to do. The both of you stared down into the pot as you lifted the lid, the pasta has blackened at the bottom. Even when you stabbed at it with a knife it wouldn’t come off the pot.

Your, “yeah, it needed water,” was quiet as you went outside and tossed the pot in your trash bin. Connor stood by your opened back door awkwardly, he didn’t feel good at disappointing you and failing his task.

“I apologize Y/N, I failed.”

You snorted, “Big time, how the hell do you not know to put water in the pot?”

Connor looked down at his shoes, “I was not built with cooking capabilities,” he risked a look at you.

You were standing there, just staring at him with your arms crossed before you finally shrugged, “Well then… I guess Barbie’s got you beat.”

“Dammit, Connor, I can feed myself!”

Connor leveled you with a look that allowed for no arguing. “Your dominant arm is dislocated and you refuse to wear your sling, I’m going to assist you.” He pushed the fork against your mouth again and you reluctantly opened your mouth to eat the pancakes he had ordered. This was so humiliating, you were desperate to get him to leave at this point.

After the pot had been destroyed and subsequently disposed of he had ordered some food and you sat down in your living room.

Your entire home was absolutely spotless, when you went to the bathroom you’d noticed he’d mopped the tiles. You were not asleep long enough for him to clean your living room, let alone your whole house.

While you were still against the idea, you could understand why some would prefer android cleaning services to human. You didn’t even want to sit on your couch, afraid of wrinkling the now pristine cousins.

Once you’d sat on your couch, you’d waited for him to leave.

Except, he didn’t, he sat down next to you and then just stopped moving. No blinking, no breathing, just absolute stillness. So, still being pissed at him you’d grabbed a marker off your desk and scribbled some drawings on his face. A heart, random flower, some choice words, nothing too bad. However;

They were staring at you right now as he force fed you.

He’d called a repairman while you had drawn on him, someone would be coming by to fix your window tomorrow, CyberLife would be footing the bill. After he’d made the order for the repair he’d asked what you would like to eat and made a call for the pancakes.

He still hadn’t noticed the drawings, it was a struggle not to choke on your laughter.

You forced a yawn as you pushed his hand away from your mouth, he frowned at the action. “Are you tired, detective?”

“Yeah, I am,” now please get the hell out of my house.

“You should bathe before you go to sleep.” Your head shot towards his, the action hurting your neck. You ignored it in favor of giving him your famous The Fuck Did You Just Say™️ look.

First, he lets you fall off a building and nearly die. Next, he breaks your god damn window and destroys your pot. Now he’s saying you stink. And good grace you held for Connor was gone, obliterated at the comment.

“That’s it Connor. You’ve stayed far past your welcome, I’m done.” Your resolve almost broke at the way Connor’s shoulders slumped. You straightened your shoulders, ignored the pain shooting down your arm, and rebuilt your walls.

You should thank Connor honestly, him letting you nearly die had reminded you of exactly what he was. Nothing more than a plastic soldier that only cared about his mission. You meant nothing to him. Your life was nothing. How could something that could so easily be put into a new body have any idea about death. He couldn’t.

But something that couldn’t die, also couldn’t feel. Those small touches, and the times he would check in on you, it was all manipulation. Just like the way he lied about having a favorite dog, they were all subtle little manipulations to have you as agreeable as possible. And a visceral rage filled you at the thought that he had almost succeeded.

Your heart had almost been his.

You rebuilt your walls and stared him down. “Leave. Now.”

Connor didn’t frown, he didn’t cry or scream at you to let him stay, but the look in his eyes as he stared up at you from his spot on your couch said enough. He looked genuinely hurt at what you said. Not possible.

“You can take your sad little eyes and you can shove them up your ass, Connor. Get the fuck out of my house.” You stormed out of the living room and into your bedroom. He’d cleaned it up and replaced your sheets while you’d waited for the food to arrive.

The lack of your mess made you angrier than it should have. How dare he just come into your house and start acting like he belonged there?

Like he had any right to be near you?

If he could feel pain you would beat him twice as bad as you did after the rooftop incident.

Apparently he’d had to get three parts replaced by CyberLife after what you did. Hank had been complaining about the paperwork the entire time you were in the hospital.

If your arms and ribs weren’t aching you would be pitching a major fit, and ripping the goddamn sheets right off the bed. At the moment, however, the pill Connor had forced you to take was kicking in and making you sluggish.

The only reason you had allowed Connor to stay in the first place was because you were still waking up from your nap. He seemed determined to keep you weak and tired so you couldn’t get rid of him.

You heard footsteps and then a hand was wrapped around your non-injured elbow. “I’m not leaving, detective. Someone in your condition needs assistance.” You turned around in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge. Both of his hands moved to your biceps. The look he gave you made you stop, “Y/N, please, let me help. Please.” He seemed so sad, there was a slump to his shoulders that made him look almost shameful. The tone of his voice made you believe he actually wanted to help, that this wasn’t a part of his programming.

You blamed how easily you gave into him on the drugs.

“Absolutely not!”

Connor was holding your towel in front of him like a shield. “I won’t look, detective, I promise.”

“Hell no! Line drawn! You shall not pass.” He gave you a stern look. Like you should feel dumb for thinking he wanted to see you naked, maybe you were, but you didn’t want any pervy CyberLife techs scanning through his mainframe and seeing footage of you naked. “I’m not gonna let your bosses see me naked.”

Connor seemed to catch onto your train of thought. “I won’t be recording when you’re bathing, I promise we’ll be completely alone.” You crossed your arms, this is one battle he would not be winning. Android or not, your stubbornness was not something to be so easily reckoned with. Connor let out a long sigh, “Fine. You clean yourself, and then we can draw a bath and I’ll assist you with your hair.”

You’d made the mistake of admitting to him that you hadn’t exactly been keeping up with your hygiene while you’d been on the case. You’d been keeping your hair in two braids and have been taking quick showers in between working the case. It was one of your more major flaws. Letting yourself get swept up in the mystery at the expense of your own self-care.

You’d also made the mistake of telling him that it hurt too much to wash your hair, or even attempt to. Now he was insisting on helping you.

Connor looked at your arms and mimicked your posture. “We can stand here all night, detective, I’m not budging.”

You were standing there for two minutes before you realized he was actually being serious. Your chest was starting to ache with the effort of keeping yourself upright. You shifted around and he didn’t even blink. Your skin was starting to buzz with boredom.

After another minute you saw that he wasn’t blinking. Narrowing your eyes and moving closer to his face you waved your hand in front of his face. “Are you serious?” He’d gone into sleep mode, you could tell by the pulsing yellow LED on the side of his face. “Bitch.” And he had ‘coincidentally’ blocked the bathroom exit. Groaning you took the towel in his hands and threw it over his head.

“RK800 wake up.”

Connor’s systems slowly came back online at the sound of your voice. Everything was at 100%, except his optical units didn’t seem to be processing his environment correctly. It took a second before his sensors recognized the fabric of a towel over his head. He sighed and ripped it off his head.

The sight before him had him momentarily stopping. You were in your freshly cleaned tub, bubbles covering your body as you looked at him expectantly. “You wanna help me out or what, sleeping beauty?”

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINES?

SYSTEM OVERHEAT IMMINENT

ACTIVATING COOLING SYSTEM

You looked concerned by the time Connor had managed to calm his sensors, there were parts of him coming online that were not necessary at this moment. He tightened his tie as a poor attempt to get everything back in order. It didn’t work, he was still distracted by your lack of clothes. He could not understand why.

“I’m starting to get creeped out, Connor.” That got Connor’s attention. He never meant to make you uncomfortable.

He moved to sit beside the tub and pulled up his sleeves. “Apologies, detective, my systems were coming back online.” You nodded your head and he hoped you couldn’t see through the lie. Connor used the pitcher beside him to wet your hair and began massaging your scalp as he rubbed the shampoo in.

You moaned as his hands came down to rub your neck. It triggered another cooling process. Much of the rest of your bath was the same, he was struggling with strange impulses that were activating outside his control and programming. When you had leaned your head back on the rim of the tub he’d wanted to press his lips against your stretched neck.

He’d seen humans do it before, but the emotions connected to the act were something Connor wasn’t capable of. He was experiencing what some might call a mental crisis as he helped you wash your hair.

When he was finished, he handed you a towel and went to your room to grab you some pajamas. The picture of you and Cole was facedown on your dresser, moved from the upright position he had placed it in while he had cleaned.

He placed the tank top and shorts you requested on your sink and waited for you in your bedroom. When you walked in you seemed surprised to see him standing by your bed. Your face quickly morphed into one of resignation as you threw your towel on your bed.

Connor made a note to pick it up.

“What now?” He held out the brush in his hands.

“I’ll braid it for you, so you don’t have to worry about styling it with your injured shoulder.” You stopped fidgeting with the end of your shirt and instead gave him a bewildered look. “Is something wrong, detective?”

You cleared your throat before answering, “Nothing it’s- Nevermind.” You sat on your bed with no argument, something Connor was surprised by, considering you seemed to find it necessary to argue with him about everything.

By the second braid you were fully leaning onto his leg, Connor had to keep readjusting so he had room to finish off the braid. The medicine seemed to have fully kicked in, you didn’t make a fuss when he gently guided you under the covers and turned your light off. He knew you were still awake as he made his way to your door.

“Good night, detective.”

He didn’t get a response.

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