#i was reminded that this au exists. and i have reached the boredom with the current chapter of discacc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

1K notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

Gold Rush (optional bias)

A/N: I honestly don’t know a lot about the middle ages, so if anyone is a history genius, pls bare with me if I write something that doesn’t make sense asfghjk PS: feedback is greatly appreciated!!

genre: optional bias (male), thief!au, strangers to enemies to lovers, medieval!au, suggestive content, reader is always ready to fight lmao, a tiny bit of angst

summary: As thieves, you both try to steal from the same royal carriage. Only it doesn’t go as planned for either of you. Will you get away before the king sentences you both to death?

words: 8.9 k

You had been tailing the royal carriages for an entire day now. You were sure your horse was getting exhausted, but the sun was setting and you knew what that meant. Soon, the transport would come to a halt. They would find a clearing somewhere, with trees as shelter from all sides. Then, they would set up their camp for the night, only to pack up everything in the morning and travel another two or three days, until they reached their destination: the castle. Only instead of delivering the full carriages, with gold, silver, pearls and gems, a few handfuls would be missing. It would be almost nothing to them, you suspected. They might not even notice it disappeared.

To you, however, it meant existing. You had to admit, being a thief hadn’t been your first choice when it came to choosing an occupation for the rest of your life. You had tried to integrate into different businesses. You were going to learn to be a baker, a glover and even tried to keep a job helping out on a farm. But none of these professions were for you. You were tired of being commanded around by men who tried to make you their little maid or worse – ask you for your hand in marriage. The judgement was tedious. “Aren’t you too old to be unwed?” “Where is your husband?” “How many children do you have?”

You wished you could talk back. “No, I’m just fine, he doesn’t exist and none – is it any of your business, by the way?” But you had learned that arguing with elders would only get you in trouble, and perhaps your decision to refrain from living the typical life was exactly what made it impossible for you to keep a job. That was, until you discovered your talent – a sleight of hand that was invincible. Some would call it avaricious; you would prefer to describe it as a passion. It wasn’t evil, just a thrill you enjoyed chasing. The beginnings had been humble. A few coins out of someone’s pocket here and there, some food from an unsuspecting marketer; you had to keep yourself afloat somehow, right?

But the seasons went by, and you became more audacious and greedier for your beloved adrenaline. Plus, you realized that stealing from the rich had something weirdly rewarding. Maybe it was the anger you felt at the king for hoarding the wealth of the land whilst letting his people starve in the streets. Either way, stealing from those who had power made you feel a sense of benevolence. You gave away some of your stolen goods to those who actually needed them, instead of letting all the money and jewelry rot away in someone’s bag and around someone’s neck. Sometimes you hid in the shadows after your theft had been settled, only to see the reactions of your victims. It might have sounded obsessive, but it gave you assurance, when they moved on after only minutes of complaint, because you knew those few coins were miniscule to all of them.

And currently, you were on to one of your most reckless thefts. You were well aware this could get you killed. Yet you couldn’t help it, the glimmer of the jewels and the gold was hypnotizing. Finally, the carriages had come to a halt. From a safe distance, you observed how they unloaded their tents and checked especially carefully where they kept the most desired goods. The wares would stay in the carriages, probably guarded all night long. You would need to wait for the right moment.

“Good job today, my dearest Dorato,” you whispered to your horse as you tied the reins to a tree. Gently, you pat his nose. He pushed his head closer to you, demanding more affection, but your eyes were already on your objective. For at least an hour you stood, hidden in the thicket, waiting for the sun to set completely and some of the men to lay to sleep. With a hawk’s gaze you counted the men and made sure you knew each of their whereabouts. One of the wagons stood with its back opening facing you – which was perfect. It was like they were presenting the goods to you on a silver plate. To the left of the wagon, some of the men had lit a bonfire and were seated around it. Judging by their laughter and lively conversations, you doubted they would go to sleep soon. One of them was sitting on the edge of the carriage, meant to guard the inside. He, who should have been paying the most attention, however, was fast asleep. And that was your chance.

“Wish me luck, Dorato,” you whispered to your horse, running your hand over his warm neck. Then, you slowly moved towards the carriage. Outside the shielding cover of the trees, you felt you needed to act quickly. The gales of laughter were helping against your vulnerability in reminding you that the men around the fire were trusting their sleeping guard to have everything under his control. Sly as a fox, you kept your distance and approached the opening of the wagon only when the bonfire was out of sight. You pulled the fabric to the side and with a swift jump, you landed on the edge of the carriage right next to the dozed off man. It only took one maneuver and you had opened the wooden chest nearest to you.

You grinned in triumph at the jackpot in front of you. With eyes sparkling just as much as the diamonds and gems, you grabbed handfuls and transported them into your bag.

“Henry, change of shift!” someone suddenly shouted. Their voice sounded scarily close to you, and then you heard footsteps approaching. Even though you had wanted to be greedier and steal some more, this was definitely your cue to get out of there. If they saw you inside the wagon, you’d be done for. So, without second thought, you yanked the cover away and leaped off the edge.

“Thief!” the surprised man howled as you passed him. Luckily, this wasn’t the first quick escape you had ever had to make. Your feet carried you rapidly, over the grass and into the trees where your horse stood. One quick pull and the reins had come off the tree trunk.

“Over there!” a hoarse man growled. Now more voices were heard, curses and angry shouts directed your way.

“Let’s go, boy,” you said and hauled yourself into the saddle. You pushed your legs against his belly, quickly signaled your horse the way and he knew the drill already. He took off sprinting, out of the forest cover. The wind in your face momentarily forced your eyes to tear up a little and you squinted against the cool night air. But just as you thought you were getting onto the gravel road, one of the guards jumped out in front of you. The fire from the torch he was holding danced aggressively in the wind. As he pointed it high, it was a blaze against the darkness of the night sky, and Dorato whinnied in terror. He jumped and reared up, and you lost balance.

“Seize her!” a man shouted at your disoriented figure on the ground. You wanted nothing more than to get back on your feet and flee. But it was no use. You were surrounded by a number of gravely livid men, and should you try anything stupid now, it would cost you your life, probably. Somebody grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up.

“Take the horse,” one of them ordered and your eyes widened. If they hurt your best friend it was the last thing they would do, you swore in silence. But to your dismay, as the men dragged you over to the wagon, they ripped your quiver and your bow from your back. You sat still as they tied your hands and feet and hurled you into the very wagon you had just stolen from.

“There you have your gemstones,” a guard spoke. “Look at them as much as you want, because soon you won’t be looking at anything anymore.”

Giving him a gaze so spiteful it should have hurt him physically, you spit right into his face. Lucky for you, he wasn’t up for a fight. It wasn’t on him to convict you for anything just yet. A complacent smile spread on your face as he walked away, wiping your saliva out of his eyes. At least now you had a guaranteed roof over your head for the night.

You were in slight trouble, you had to admit that. In two days, you would arrive at the castle. Depending on what the king decided, your punishment could be as severe as death. But until then, it would be a while. There was still plenty of time to escape, you assured yourself.

All night long, no matter how much you forced your eyes shut, you didn’t catch a minute of sleep. The men’s chatter was simply too loud and maybe you were concerned for your safety, after all – even if you would have never confessed it to someone other than yourself. The heavy chests of luxurious items sat across and next to you, as if they were mocking you for your foolish actions. For hours you sat staring at them, cursing your greed. Only in the morning, when the carriages continued their journey, the rocking of the wagon lulled you into a slumber.

You awoke later that day. Judging by the dim light falling into the carriage, it must have been the early evening. Curious, you scooted to the edge, lifted the fabric that was covering your sight and checked. Your assumptions had been right. The golden sunlight of the last hour of daytime shone into your face. The wagon you were in was the last of them, behind you only the bright gravel and trees left and right. For a while you daydreamed the boredom away. You went into another world, in which you didn’t have to steal to survive. In your real life, you were either born into luxury or you had to toil each day for the rest of your existence. There was no hard work that could have transported you out of your peasant-state and into something more carefree.

Suddenly, shouts ripped you right out of your dreamworld. The wagon had halted, but when you looked out the back, nothing was there. Trying to learn what the commotion was all about, you concentrated on the chaos of voices. Had they all gotten into an argument? The men were all talking at the same time, so there was really no use but to wait and see.

“You will be delighted to have some company until you receive your sentence from the king,” a man said. Footsteps drew nearer. Someone pulled away the fabric at the end of the wagon. Before you knew it, a figure was pushed inside. It was a young man but clearly not one of the guards, as he was dressed like a peasant. With a groan, he was bracing himself up across from you.

“Enjoying the ride?” the guard outside the wagon taunted you with a sneering grin. You spat in his face. Again.

“You little-“ he snarled.

“Let’s go! We can’t lose any more time!” someone yelled and unknowingly saved you from more trouble. The man disappeared and the carriages began to move again.

You welcomed the newest addition to your wagon by staring him down like he was about to take all the gold and diamonds clearly reserved for you. When he had sat up and checked his surroundings, he noticed your look.

“Is there a problem or something on my face?” he asked.

“Were you trying to steal from them?” you asked back. “Didn’t go as planned, did it?”

“Were you not?” he replied. “My highness, we’re in the same situation, so don’t you try to aggravate me out of tediousness.”

“Don’t you mock me, or you’ll receive the same response as the guard did,” you threatened. “And you are very wrong. You are going to be brought to the castle and thrown into a prison. I will escape.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “I see you’re making great progress with getting out of these ropes. You better hurry, or I’ll get away before you do. I can carry a lot in my pockets.”

You huffed.

“The diamonds are mine,” you stated, matter-of-fact.

“Whoever gets out first will have them,” he replied. “I’m betting on myself.”

“God…could you not have chosen a different day to steal from the royals?” you asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was your highness’ turn today,” he said, and his smile was taunting and cocky at the same time.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” you hissed, one second from collecting your saliva in your mouth.

“What do you prefer then?” he asked. His smirk made you wonder whether he was contemplating to suggest some more stupid pet names for you. He better not, you thought.

“I don’t know…what about my name?” you said. “It’s Y/N.”

“All right, Y/N,” he said. “And would you consider sitting on death row one of the more entertaining parts of your job? Are you used to it?”

If only looks could kill, he’d be torn to shreds.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been caught,” you said. “But judging by how lightly you’re taking this, you must spend more time in jail than outside of it.”

“What can I say? The guards love me,” he said. “But didn’t they teach you to be honest? I don’t believe you. Or maybe you were a coward for so long and this is your first time actually trying to steal. What’s the truth, sweetheart?”

There was nothing you despised like people who underestimated you. And with that, you spat in his face and turned away from him. Know-it-alls weren’t going to be granted a second of your attention.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said. “We’ll be here for another while, so we might as well become friends.”

“Missed your chance,” you said. And it was the last thing you said to him for a long time. Even when he tried so hard to lure you back into a conversation. You knew if you gave in, he’d never learn.

“My name is H/N, by the way. Oh, that’s right. You don’t care. I forgot,” he said. And he was right.

Having to rot away by yourself in the back of a carriage was already exhilarating enough. But rotting away in the back of a carriage while an irritating young man filled your head with stupid stories you could care less about? It made hell sound inviting. Even when the guards had set up their camp for the night, he occasionally tried to get you back into conversation. Because you had slept throughout the day, you knew you’d be awake until the early morning hours, a fact that only made your situation more unbearable.

Your ears picked up the crackling of the wood as the bonfire fed on it next to the wagon. Suddenly, a guard pulled aside the curtain. Without a word, he slid a plate with a piece of bread and a bowl with some water inside and left.

“This is going to be hard to eat with my hands on my back!” the young thief in front of you shouted, but the guard only laughed.

“Nice try,” you said, eyeing the food.

“Oh, she speaks after all,” he said. “And at least one of us is trying.”

“If I had one coin for every time you’ve provoked me since we met, I could buy my freedom,” you said. And again, he was in the wrong. Obviously, you had tried hard to figure out a way to get out of the restraints digging into your skin. If only you had a sharp object or –

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing his head at the bread. He was willing to share, at least.

“I’ll bite off half and you get the other side,” you announced and bent your head down to the plate.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, shoving you out of the way so you tumbled onto your side with a huff of surprise.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you asked, regaining you posture.

“I’m taking the first bite,” he said. “I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

“I’ll show you where my mouth is,” you snapped. The next moment you tackled him, teeth digging into his shoulder. He groaned in pain, ferociously pushing you off him. His foot hit your thigh and you realized if you had any chance of getting away, an injured leg wouldn’t make it easier. So, you trudged away slightly.

“Are you out of your mind? Did you just really fucking bite me?” he growled.

“Go ahead, eat your damned bread,” you snarled. With a sulky sigh, you leaned back against the chest behind you, shut your eyes and tried to keep your fury in check.

You sat that way for an hour, maybe a few. With time, the roaring laughter from outside had died down. It must have been the middle of the night when you opened your eyes again. The silence let you conclude that your fellow captive had fallen asleep. Finally, you bent down to where you suspected the water bowl to be and took a few gulps. Only now you realized just how empty your stomach was. But your nose picked up something. Bread. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the half of the piece he had left for you. His humble act redacted your opinion of him from 100 to 98% dickhead. Like a starved animal, you gobbled the food. When you took your place against the chest once more, even you managed to snooze off into a much needed rest.

When the carriage steered through a pothole it shook you out of your slumber. Surprisingly, it was completely bright outside.

“You’re just on time,” the young thief across from you announced. “We’re about to arrive at the castle.”

He hadn’t woken you up. Maybe he had earned a few more sympathy points – with emphasis on a few. Only twenty minutes later, you were lead trough the cold halls of some dark part of the castle, down into the dungeon. While the guards dragged you around, even your loudmouth shut. This was new territory and made you slightly nervous. Were you going to make it out of here? So far, nothing was decided. You dearly prayed the king would be in a fantastic mood when he convicted you.

Your whole body was sore from the hours of sitting in the same position on the hard wood of the wagon, so you almost welcomed being shoved through the uninviting halls. One of the guards cut the remaining ropes from your hands, before pushing you into a cell. Much to your dismay, your fellow wagon inmate would also join you in this prison.

“The king will tend to you lowlives when he has time,” the guard said. The loud metallic clash of the prison bars closing and the lock sliding in place sounded like your demise. Your eyes followed the guard’s figure helplessly, until he had disappeared down the dark hallway. A slam of a door indicated that he was gone. Like a nervous animal, you paced from one wall to the other over and over. Your arms were crossed in front of your body and you were trying hard not to have a nervous breakdown. You needed your brain for more vital things right now – like contriving a plan to escape this hellhole before you could be sentenced to death.

“Would you sit down, goddammit!” the young man remarked. He was leaning against the back wall of the cell, eyeing you closely. “I need to think!”

“Do you think I don’t?” you replied. The moment of panic in your voice was short-lived, but he probably noticed it either way.

“I can’t focus if you’re losing it in front of me,” he said. “If you’re already processing your inevitable death, that’s cool with me. But I’m still planning on getting out of here, so please try to process in silence.”

Your nostrils flared in anger and you clenched your hands to fists by your sides.

“You idiot!” you said. “If you hadn’t done everything in your power to make me despise you right when we met, we could have tried to flee together.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one biting me for having a sense of personal hygiene,” he fired back. “We’re stuck in here. But get it together, we’re not on death row yet.”

In disbelief you stared at him, your irritation almost drowning out the restless pounding inside your head. He held his chin high as if to challenge you. And you could have gone for it. Down here in this cold, forlorn dungeon no one would hinder you from fighting each other. No, you knew for a fact that not a single soul in this castle gave one last damn about whether you lived or died. But you were completely drained. After all the sleep you had gotten, you should have been wide awake, and maybe your body was – but your mind was in the middle of shutting down. So, even though it hurt your pride, you stopped your uneasy walking and mirrored his behavior on another wall. Arms crossed and eyebrows furrowing, you kept your eyes on the ground. Maybe he was right. Giving up wasn’t characteristic for you, so why was your head spinning from dread?

In desperate search of some sort of hope, you caught glimpse of his rather relaxed stance. If he could keep up a calm front, maybe you could too. Luckily, he wasn’t looking at you, and not noticing how you drew strength from his so simple but enheartening behavior.

Three days into your stay in the dungeon, you had found a daily rhythm. Your mornings consisted of pretending to be asleep for as long as you possibly could, then holding yourself back from attacking your beloved cellmate because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes. By midday your arguments had usually turned into playful bickering, because you couldn’t cope with being angry all the time. And frankly, you were bored. Even though standing his endless interrogations about your life was exhilarating, it was still better than losing sense of time and in the process also losing your sanity. Late, when darkness had fallen upon the land, a guard delivered a small ration of food for both of you. This was the part where your bickering morphed back into serious conflicts. If you were going to live on tiny amounts of food, you wouldn’t settle for the smaller ration of the two.

The fourth day was different. When you first reached consciousness, you heard nothing. Usually, he was already awake, noticing like a stalker when you awoke, only to tease you from the moment you woke up. But that day, you opened your eyes to a seemingly empty cell. Until you spotted him in the corner. His body was shaking, and his tiny, husky cough concerned you further.

“H/N?” you asked quietly. Considering the amount of loathing you’d thought you held for him, you sure worried an unnormal amount. But it wasn’t the mere thought of him being ill that concerned you most. It was the idea of having to suffer in the dark, murky dungeon all alone, day to day, until you’d have to face the king, who likely wanted you dead for your crimes. An ice-cold fear crept over you. You didn’t want to – no, you couldn’t – die lonely. Even if he was the last person you could have wished to be thrown into prison with, he was still company. This loathsome cell, the horrors of the near future, the neverending progression of time and the uncertainty that came with it – it all terrified you to the bone. Only now you realized just how much comfort he gave you, all by existing in the same space as you.

Carefully, you approached him. He wasn’t answering you, and he never not answered you. It was a heartbreaking sight. He was curled up in a fetal position, hands clenched to fists on his chest. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. Whether he liked it or not, you sat down with him. Gently, you reached for his forehead. A second was enough to determine he was burning up.

“Get off me,” he said, slapping your hand away. His voice was so frail.

“Hush. Let me help you,” you insisted. He huffed in annoyance.

“Are you a doctor when you’re not a thief?” he asked.

“No. But improving your mentality will help your body recover faster,” you said. “And you seem to be in a very negative headspace right now.”

His mouth opened to speak, but then a shiver rippled through his body and he wrapped his arms around his knees tightly. All this time, he hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“We need to keep you cool,” you said. “Take off your jacket.”

“This isn’t the time to ask me to take off my clothes,” he said, almost whispered.

“Will you just do as I say so you can get better? Do you want to die in here?” you said, brushing off his words. Something flashed across his face. Fear? Disappointment? Aware that it could invade his comfort zone, you very carefully took his hands. Lucky for you, he let you. When his jacket came off, you noticed the sweat stains that had formed on his thin shirt.

“You can lie down on this, it’ll be more comfortable,” you advised. Without arguing, he followed your instructions and allowed you to spread out the jacket underneath him. This behavior was new, you thought. But you could surely get used it. You knew it must have been serious, if he didn’t give you a silly remark for everything you said.

“I’ll get you more water,” you said, as you retrieved the almost empty water bowl from the center of the stone floor. Set on not spilling a drop, you lifted it to his lips and watched as he swallowed the last few sips. You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe his wet hair out of his face, as he sunk back down onto the hard ground.

“Sleep now,” you said. You didn’t need to tell him twice. He had been almost unable to keep his eyelids open, so without hesitation, he drifted off into dreamland. For hours, you sat, hugging your knees to your chest, eyes on his anguished figure. Just as you had thought you could deal with the scary ordeal of being held captive in a castle dungeon, this had to happen. Stricken with sorrow, you waited for time to pass. If only you could have slept too, it would have made all the anxious thoughts go away. But someone had to look after him, and you weren’t tired.

His slumber must had been a hag-ridden one. Sometimes, he made small sounds, like whimpers, other times his brows furrowed, and his muscles flexed from whichever terror it was that haunted him in his head.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay,” you assured him, and maybe also yourself. But his tireless stirring only became worse, his body twisting and turning on the uneven ground. He groaned in agony, and your heart clenched like a million little daggers had slashed it.

“I’m here to keep you safe,” you whispered, bending down to his level. With utmost care, you lifted his head and let him rest in your lap. You weren’t really planning what was happening, but your hands found his hands. Softly, you stroked them, waiting for him to calm down and relax his tight fists. His mumbles and quiet moans of distress continued, until you realized. He was trying to tell you something.

“I can’t go like this,” he said.

“You’re not go-“ you started.

“No! My- parents need- me,” he stuttered. By now he was grasping your hands desperately. You sighed and his eyes opened ever so slightly. The anger he had held for you was vanished. You almost teared up at the delicateness of his gaze.

“I need to help them... they’re old and sick and can’t be alone,” he added in a small voice.

“We will get out of here,” you said. You had no idea when there had first been a ‘we’, but now there apparently was. “You have to be strong now, do you hear? Then you can meet your parents again.”

He was looking almost through you. His eyes were so dark, it was like staring right into the deepest part of the ocean. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, whilst trying hard to keep a hopeful gaze. For him, you had to appear strong. Or else, how else was he supposed to be?

“I’m sorry- I was such an asshole to you,” he suddenly confessed. “I thought you would steal away the gold before I could. And now look where that brought us.”

“This isn’t your fault. We were both being reckless,” you said. “I’m sorry I bit you. And threatened to spit on your face. And then spat on your face.”

The tiniest smile spread on his face. Success. Any sort of positive emotion could help him now.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered. “I’ll think about whether I can forgive you. You must know, I’m very vindictive.”

His grin was playful, and his eyes were closed, as if he was on the brink of falling back to sleep.

“Forgiveness hurts less than holding a grudge for the rest of your life,” you said. Who knew? Maybe even the king could show remission. All you knew was that you would crumble, would you have to encounter the king alone. Your brain had set on the need for H/N. For years, you hadn’t formed any meaningful relationships – not counting your bond with your ardently loved horse. Now, with his head on your lap and your fingers intertwined with his, you ached for more. Was it really him you wanted? Or had you denied yourself of any affection for such a long time, the smallest contact with anyone appeased your yearning? Would you have felt the same, if it had been somebody else in his place?

At night, the metal noise of the door at the far end of the hallway outside your cell made you lift your head. Gently, so that H/N wouldn’t be awoken, you lifted his head to lay on the jacket instead of your thigh. In impatience, your foot tapped on the ground while you stood in the middle of the cell.

“Sir,” you called the guard with a fake-soft voice. “Will it be possible to receive another cup with water? My fellow inmate has fallen sick.”

The grumpy guard unlocked the metal bars, entering with the usual small ration of food and drink.

“What does it matter if he dies now or by command of the king? Do you think I care?” he growled, not sparing you a glance. You had been almost convinced this would have happened. So, you’d have to resort to different measures.

“Please-“ you begged, suddenly stepping towards the guard, who was on his way out of the cell. Without second thought, you threw yourself onto him, making sure to look extra-devastated and helpless. What could a weak, little young woman do to a guard, other than fall on her knees, right?

“Touch me once more and you’re dead, too, bitch!” he barked. One quick move of your skilled fingers and you eagerly backed off, hands hiding behind your back.

“Sorry, sir!” you said, lowering your head in false shame and guilt. “Please consider my request.”

All he gave you was a grunt of disapproval and he stomped out of the cell, the lock falling into place in a loud crash. Feigning inferiority and intimidation, you didn’t dare move until he was out of the dungeon. Then, you spun to the young man behind you on the ground.

“Open up,” you commanded, suspecting the shouting could not have kept him asleep. Finally, you could pull the flask you had stolen from the guard from behind your back. It seemed to be almost filled to the brim, too. Perfect. He did as he was told, and you let some of the water spill into his mouth.

“I take back what I said in the carriage,” he confessed. “Only full-time thieves have a sleight of hand like yours.”

“It was my pleasure proving you wrong,” you said. “Now, drink up.”

That night, you let him have the full ration of food. For at least ten minutes, he refused to have all of it. But you were stubborn and even though he hadn’t known you for long, he knew that much about you. If you wanted to escape with him, he would need to be fit to run. You had deemed your chances small to begin with, but in his state, you estimated them close to zero. After you had emptied the guard’s flask, you reached through the prison bars and tossed the item as far away from the cell as you could. He should never assume you’d had anything to do with its disappearance. The next day, a different guard would find it there, and bring it back to him under the assumption that he had carelessly dropped it.

Two days passed by. In the first night of the two, you had to comfort him through another few nightmares. During the day, he was sleepy, but had enough energy to have a little conversation with you now and then – something you read as a good sign. The second night, you were able to sleep all the way through, and when you checked his forehead in the morning, it had cooled down a little. On the second day, he had regained his strength enough to be able to sit, leaning against your shoulder.

“Will you stop moving? My head’s pounding,” he said.

“Your complaints make me wonder if you’re doing well now,” you asked, smirking.

“Like I said…my head’s killing me,” he repeated.

“Drink the rest of the water,” you suggested. “I think it’s almost evening. The guard will bring a new bowl soon.”

“It’s your turn to eat tonight,” he stated.

“We’re sharing,” you said. Lucky for him, he didn’t fight back. You wouldn’t have cooperated, either way.

“It’s time to make a plan now, if we want to get out of here. What do you say?” you asked. When he lifted his head, you looked over at him. The color was back in his face, the beads of sweat nonexistent and his cheeky smile bright as ever.

“I wonder…about what your little magic hands did to that guard’s flask…could they do the same with his keys?” he suggested. The way you mirrored his mischievous grin, he knew you agreed. But it would be trickier, this time. From days worth of observation, you had learned that the guards behaved differently. Some adamantly made sure the keys remained in their clenched fists – an instance you couldn’t work with at all – while others preferred to leave them in the lock by the door. You knew you’d never get close enough to even attempt to steal them from there. What you needed was the careless type of guard. The one who snuck the keys into their pockets or left them hanging on their clothes by the keyring. All it took now was to wait and hope the king would keep you locked away for long enough to give you a chance to flee.

That night, luck wasn’t on your side. The guard kept his hands on his keys as if they were his most precious possession.

“Do we really have to go over this again? I told you your pacing is driving me insane,” he said. It was midday of the following day, and you were deep in thought – or you had been – until he had to interrupt you.

“What do you expect me to do? We’re jailed like animals,” you countered. “I can’t stand around like you all day.”

When you saw him open his mouth, you read in his expression what he was about to do. It was his bickering face.

“If there’s one thing I’m not in the mood for currently, it’s getting lectured by you over nothing. Come up with a topic of conversation, please,” you said before he could speak. His smirk concerned you.

“What are you in the mood for, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Your death glare said more than a thousand words. “Fine, here’s a conversation topic…let me think…why are you not married?”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you said in the most impassive tone you could muster.

“Oh, alright, if that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to flirting,” he said. The steps he was taking towards you made your brain activate fight mode.

“I’ve never met a man good enough for marriage,” you said.

“And what qualifies a man to be good enough for you?”

“Hm…where do I begin? I’m not a good cook, nor do I enjoy being a maid, nor do I know how to take care of children. Most men want those things in a woman.”

“You took pretty good care of me, didn’t you? But why waste your thieving talent on running a household?” he said.

“That’s where the issue lays. Men don’t favor women who sneak around the village at night and make their own money from being a criminal.”

“Nothing wrong with being a criminal,” he went on.

You laughed out loud.

“You know what? I like it this way. Why settle for staying with one man who might turn out to be a monster, when I can have them all for a night?” you said.

“Well, right now you’re not having anyone.”

“Seems like that’s bothering you more than it bothers me,” you replied in a feisty tone. If you didn’t call him out for the flirting, who would? Although you had to admit, you greatly preferred being courted to his unnerving teasing.

“Why would that bother me?” he asked. “You hate me, don’t you?”

He was right in front of you now, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that made you consider biting him again. And at the same time, something in your body – not your head – wanted to close the small distance between you two.

“If I hated you, I would have let you die,” you said.

“I assumed you kept me alive because you need me to get out of here.”

Now you had another reason to get up in his face. You gripped him by the collar, looking into his eyes.

“Excuse me? You think I wouldn’t be able to escape by myself? If you’re only trying to rile me up, you better let me know, because I already told you I can’t stand to be underestimated,” you said.

“Alright,” he rose his arms in defeat. “After your little stunt with the guard I’m actually pretty glad I have you in here with me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d get out without you.”

“Was that so hard to spit out?” you said, self-accomplished.

��No. But you only come close to me when you’re mad or worried,” he said. By now, his eye contact was captivating in the most confusing way possible. His eyes occasionally skipped to your lips. “And since I’m not sick anymore, I had to opt for the former.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said. Unbelievably handsome, your brain added. And yes, maybe he was. Perhaps it wasn’t so much his beautiful face, but the way he spoke, understanding, even encouraging your lifestyle. You had just forced him to be honest with you. So, maybe it was time to stop holding back the truth from yourself, too.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. It’s time to give in, you told yourself. Therefore, rather than telling him, you showed him. With a sudden rush of hunger, your lips crashed against his. Momentarily, he seemed taken aback and let out a surprised groan. But within seconds he caught himself, hands grabbing your sides desperately. You thought addictions needed more time to develop, but the feeling of his mellow lips on yours already seemed like one to you.

You had never kissed anyone who had truly made you feel things. Now, your knees were weak in an instant when his tongue grazed yours only for a moment. After so much arguing, it was hard to believe your hands clasping the fabric of his shirt couldn’t be a product of you cursing him but derived from mere want. The way he claimed your mouth silenced even your most invasive thoughts. It was a serenity you had wished for ever since you had gotten caught a few days ago. A moment to breathe freely, make whichever noises you desired and be as close to him as you could.

You pulled him along, stumbling backwards until you hit the cold stone behind you. Being trapped in a dungeon was horrific – but being trapped between his body and the wall left you feeling safer than you had felt in a long, long time.

But the peace didn’t last long. You suddenly heard the all too familiar metal noise from the distance. Alarmed, you sprung apart. As the unexpecting guard walked down the dark hallway, you smoothed out your clothing hastily.

“Congratulations! Your time in here will be over. Tomorrow the king will see you,” the guard announced. You shot your fellow inmate an alerted gaze, which he returned. Silently, he nodded at you. It was time to do something. The guard was now opening the door, bringing inside your food. His key was in his hands – this was going to be an issue. He set the plate down in the front of the room, and was in the process of spinning around, when H/N spoke.

“Sir, may I attract you to a magic trick?” he asked the guard. “I have been practicing it for so long, and it would be a shame if I had to die before I could ever present it.”

“Go to hell,” the guard said.

“I have a coin here,” H/N added. The guard raised his head. “If you win, you get to keep it.”

“Give it to me,” the annoyed man said.

“That’s not how it works. First, I will need both of your hands,” H/N explained. You smiled slightly when the guard sighed. He complied, letting his keys disappear into his oversized pocket. Retrieving them would be child’s play for you.

“Stick up your hands ahead of you. And keep your eyes locked on the coin. Be quick, or you’ll lose it,” H/N said in his dramatic voice. As he lifted his own hand with the coin in it, the guard followed and looked upwards. This was your time. Like a cat, you tip-toed around the guard’s back, not even paying attention to what H/N was doing anymore. Ever so swiftly, your hand slid into his pocket, fingers closing around the chill metal. As quickly as you had approached him, you stepped away, the key sliding into your sleeve and out of sight.

“Incorrect!” H/N called. “But you know what? I will grant you the coin either way. By tomorrow, I might not need it any longer.”

The guard even went so far as to laugh – even if it was a gloating sort of laughter. The only thing left to do now was hope he wouldn’t discover his missing key. But luck was on your side. Without another word, the man stepped out of the cell, shut the door, and walked off. The tune he whistled became smaller and smaller, until it faded out completely.

“Guess who’s getting out of here?” you asked, triumphantly revealing the key.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. You weren’t sure whether it was a spur of the moment decision, or maybe he was just too ecstatic to stop himself, but he flung his arms around your frame and squeezed you tightly.

“Hey, hey, you can’t crush me so close to my escape,” you laughed.

“Our escape,” he smiled. “We need to act fast. He could notice the missing key any second.”

Nodding eagerly, you grabbed half of the bread and downed half of the water bowl. You weren’t going to leave that behind. After all, you never knew when your next meal would be.

“If we make it to the stables, we can get a horse,” he announced. “I saw them on our way here. They’re to the west. The sun should be setting now, if my sense of time is still correct. Let’s hurry, or else we’ll be out of directions.”

“Dorato!” you exclaimed. “They took my horse!”

“The black horse that was tied to the carriage when we came here? I saw him,” he noted. You nodded, swearing you would leave here without Dorato only over your dead body.

Ten minutes later you had successfully exited the cell and approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“Out there it’s on both of us to keep running, okay?” you whispered.

He only nodded. “Towards the setting sun.”

The second you had slipped past the door you were spotted by a maid.

“Prisoners!” she yelled. Your plan to slip away unnoticed had gone down the drain quickly. With one last glance at the young man next to you, you both took off. The way out of the castle was still burned into your brain from when you had been brought inside. Back then, you had already planned to get out, so you had payed an extra amount of attention. When you reached a turn, you barely had time to think about the right way. By now, two guards were after you and you were forced to trust your intuition. H/N was a little ahead of you. The sudden exercise after being refined to a tiny cell for so long made your chest burn in exhaustion after only such a short while. But the adrenaline drowned it all out easily.

You knew you had to be close to the outside, it was a feeling. But then, all of a sudden, a guard cut off your path in front of you. H/N was racing far ahead, so that he could get away. You, on the other hand, had no time to overthink your actions. Before the guard could catch you, you had ducked under his outstretched arms. Now, sprinting down an unfamiliar corridor over the marble flooring, your sense of direction was gone, but your will to survive vigorous as ever.

For minutes you ran, collecting a horde of guards behind you the longer you kept going. When you turned a corner, you were greeted by another long corridor. Only this time, it was a dead end. Nevertheless, you kept up the speed. What else could you have done? By now, your calves felt like they were on fire, breath coming in short gasps. You suddenly took notice of the precious paintings and statues that adorned the hallway. Maybe this was the answer.

Without slowing down, you took hold of a stone vase. Just for a moment, you gathered all your might. Then, you dashed it forward, against the window at the very end of the corridor. Your body followed shortly after, but it was enough time for the glass to shatter before you. In a protective manner, you folded your arms over your chest and shut your eyes tightly as your figure flew through the opening.

When you had passed the window, your eyes opened, and you ducked. Soft grass caught your body as you rolled onto the ground. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs momentarily. But within seconds you were back on your feet. Aggressive shouts from behind you only motivated you to keep going. Faster. Just a little longer. Dawn had broken in, but the sky was still a bright blue to your left. That’s where you were headed. A market place close by acted as the perfect cover for a while. You barely had time to watch out, crashing into people’s shoulders and knocking over bowls and baskets. An enraged shout followed you, but you were already far gone.

And he had been right. Your nose picked up the scent of hay and animals. You had to be close. What if he wasn’t there? What if they caught you again? A short panic bubbled up inside of you. Stealing might could have been forgiven, but for your current deeds no king would let you live. The wooden stables were in sight by now.

You could barely breathe anymore, but something inside of you kept you up and going nonetheless. Every breath burned as you entered, stalls of horses and other animals to your left and right. But no sight of H/N. Nor of your horse. Did he leave without you? Had he assumed you had been caught and tried to save his own life, at least? Your head spun as you scanned the animals one last time. Then, the men’s deep shouts caught up with you. You needed to get out, or else this stable would turn into a trap.

When your feet hit the cobblestone outside, you spotted the mob of angered men and women coming at you. They were holding spears, torches and pitchforks and were livid.

“Y/N!” someone suddenly yelled from your right. The sound of his voice had never sounded better to you. He was on your horse, careering towards you. One last look at the furious crowd of peasants and guards, and then you only focused on him. Only a little more strength, and you could get out of here.

The second he was close enough to you, you started running again. Like you had done so many times, you hauled yourself onto Dorato behind him. Your hands caught his shirt and you pulled your body flush against him. You needed no words. Now, you only needed to trust your horse to get you out of here. Just for a moment, you closed your eyes in exhaustion and took a few, consciously deep breaths. In lightning speed, you raced across the grass and towards the archway out of the courtyard.

And you made it. He shouted in a boisterous tone, and while at first you laughed, you couldn’t help but join his happiness loudly.

~2 months later~

The rough bark of the tree was digging into your back, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when he was all over you. Not when his scent was so intoxicating, and his busy hands made you forget about any other sensation on your skin. It took no time. You had escaped together, thinking it was your time to part ways after what you had gone through with him. Now, each day you hung on his every word and couldn’t even bear to be away from him for minutes at a time.

Not far from you, your two horses stood, grazing on the grass by their feet. Meanwhile, the two of you, supposed to be on the lookout for your next target, had found another occupation in the cover of the trees. The market close by wasn’t exactly your goal – it was the nobles who would arrive in their carriages like every weekend to spend time by the beautiful lake. While they had their picnics and gossiped about each other, there was enough time for you two check for some gifts to retrieve from their carriages.

You sighed happily as he kissed your neck ever so softly. In him, you hadn’t just found a partner in crime. He was your muse, your comfort and your home. His family was your new family and finally, you had someone to tell all your most unbridles stories and dreams to – someone who could actually reply, with no offense to your horse. Going out stealing was as exciting as hiding between the sheets with him. In such a short time, he had learned to read your face and knew every curve of your body like it was a part of himself, and you had no problem with that.

Suddenly, he pulled away. He looked over your shoulder, gaze changing from tranquil to fierce.

“There they come,” he announced. That moment, you heard the sounds too. Hooves and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Smiling in excitement, you turned to check the situation as well. But you had to be honest, he was much more entertaining to look at. Like in so many cases, you found yourself tied to his gorgeous features and the way his jaw clenched when he was plotting.

“Eyes on the prize, sweetheart,” he said, not peeling his look from the carriages.

“Don’t you know, I’ve already won the best prize there is in the world?” you asked, hearts in your eyes and a cheeky smile on your face.

203 notes · View notes

ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

Spellbound intro II

🌙 Pairing: Hyunjin (Stray Kids) x Reader

🌙 Genre: Dark Fantasy AU, Mystery, smut.

🌙 Teaser Length: 1.8K

🌙 Warnings: None in this chapter. For the series overall, smut, gore, witchcraft, religious themes.

🌙✨Tag List: @xviternity @straykisz

✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ. ✨ . *: ･ﾟ 🌙 * ･ﾟ✧ * : ･ﾟ✧. ✨･ﾟ.*.✧

The canopy of darkening trees retained a cold and unpleasantly humid air in this corner of the forest. It nearly smelled foul, just a hint, and there was a salty, almost sulphuric scent that you had grown to recognize like none other. It was hard to describe to someone who did not know it, because it wasn’t so much a scent as it was a feeling - a sharpness in the air that warned of error, of something that should not exist. It was completely unnatural and not of this world, but just another one of the otherworldly details that had been brought to these Towns of late.

Anyone with a semblance of a sight would be able to notice, it would basically scream wrongness, unnaturalness, abomination. Hell, anyone with a semblance of sensitivity would feel it from a mile away.

Which meant that basically everyone in these towns would never notice it. How unfeeling and disconnected these people of the modern world were, insensitive to everything that didn't have buttons and blips and beams and bolts. What a horrible place you have chosen to come to… what a horrible and strange place.

As you walk however, even in this rotten corner of the woods, it begins to feel more natural, despite its unnaturalness. A familiar putrefaction. Nothing that paints this patch of wood should be here, but it is a comfort to you. It reminds you of home, or well, of the places in the world where the unnatural was often found in the natural. The places where people still felt and saw, instead of just touching and looking.

How strange that you, even in this unsettling and noxious air, felt some sort of peace.

But well, you were always a strange one, the strangest one even.

The Towns are nice but you feel stranger than ever there, despite pretending to be so normal. Part of it is a relief - this is your new home, your escape from all the horror, your new identity. You were free here; free of the stigma, of the obligated servitude, of the duties your strangeness brought upon you. Yet this freedom, with its safety and normalcy, was also stifling.

It discombobulated you at times, all the oppressive normality. It was like everyone was in an idyllic dream and you were the only one awake. Or maybe it was the other way around? Regardless, it was strange, even for a strange person like you.

Perhaps stepping on these wet and rotten leaves was making you somewhat nostalgic. Here you are, seeing what no one else has, despite most of them having looked upon the same scene as you. The blackened grass to them seemed ‘a mushy green due to the rains’, the wilted trees a symptom of a ‘premature autumn chill’, the feeling of death itself and it’s servants a ‘weird smell’. The pins and needles brought to you by the nearly electric aura of this place increased as you stepped further toward your destination - but you were certain, if a town fool would have come along the same path, they may have explained it as a rash caused by some ivy.

How simple the human psyche becomes in these modern, magicless places. Even scientists in some parts of the world commanded the forces of nature and understood them better than these neo-troglodytes. There is no connection to the deeper forces of the world, these people are all numb. Numb and blind.

Well, most of them. All of them, technically, to an extent, but some you would save from your harsher judgements due to their decency.

Your baker friend is quite lovely. His mind isn’t simple, he isn't a person that knows of much other than baking, but he is cunning. There is a sharpness in his mind, an instinct, that is almost rare in these parts. The handsome man that visits you to make invasive yet enticing conversation with you is… tolerable. Perhaps if he were not so intense and insistent he would be more than tolerable, less of a nuisance, and more of a delight.There are the old men you play cards with - they are sensitive, almost like you, and insightful too - but perhaps it is more a consequence of their age than of their competencies and abilities. Some of your students, limited as they are in their talents, are tolerable. A handful of them you would say truly impress you though.

And then there are your patients. They come from far and wide, although most are from the Towns. Others come from… other places. Places even more senseless and insensitive as these towns, places that force them to come here to find someone as strange as you. They were people like you, persecuted for being strange like you. Had you not been pretending to be so normal, perhaps you would be persecuted too.

Persecuting you would be an almost arousing delight to some of the townsfolk though, but it satisfied you even more to frustrate them by eluding their grasp. Always poking and backing away before they could reach for retaliation. How naughty you were, enjoying these tiny malicious acts so.

And then, there is your student.

Student... Is that the right word? Was she instead your ward, or perhaps your assistant? For the sake of your pretend normalcy, you told everyone she was your apprentice. She was strange in this place too, almost exactly as strange as you, of course simpler, less talented, less knowledgeable and just a tad less strange. She was the only one to whom you could show a glimmer of your true self to, because like you, she was also here to play pretend in this normal world of safety and boredom.

The only person you would open this drawer of dreadful thoughts to was she. Maybe it was a burden to her, to protect you and care for you as much as you did for her, but you do give her every ounce of knowledge and talent that she has, and you did save her from that horrible place the two of you hailed from.

A horrible place where a strangeness like yours, and hers, meant salvation. A place where your strangeness was a resource, almost indispensable, and you…

You hated it.

In the end you did choose to come to this horribly normal modern place instead of that horribly strange archaic one. You win some, you lose some. That's what you have to remind yourself of every day. Again and again, your mind going in circles as the excess of thoughts spill over and cloud your reality, distracting you from everything and immersing you in an unreal setting built by the very thoughts.

It is the routine swinging of the basked in your gloved hand keeps you steady and constant in this discourse of yours, reminding you that you were going somewhere in reality despite being everywhere else in your thoughts. Swing, swing, swing goes the basket of apples and breads and treats.

All the way to your destination. You can see it now, the miserable little rotting hovel. Even from this far you could imagine it was cold and dank, smelled like mud and the rot of the thing that dwelled there.

Oh the things you do…

It disgusts you to approach the place, but it is what must be done. She must notice you are there now, doesn’t she? Do you intimidate her? Does she know who you are? She can probably feel you - your strangeness, that is. It must feel familiar to her, as hers does to you. You both scream abnormal and freakish to the other, except that she is a speck of dirt, a miserable and weak thing.

She must fear you, however. Even as you are now, you are still a threat to her kind. It’s good though, this way you can maim her with the threat and not the action - it would be such an inconvenience to you now, after all these years of avoidance, to have to put your strangeness in use.

Some would say someone with your gifts was born to use them for the greater good, for the betterment of the world. But these happy endings and great victories were the product of so many violent and gruesome efforts on your end, the thought of it made your stomach churn.

The things you were told you had to do, convinced you had to do. The pains and nauseating acts you were celebrated for haunted you to this day. All you wanted was peace, quiet, a painless existence.

And so this is why you do this instead - dealing with strange things in normal ways in the most boringly normal place in the world. Peace.

Knock, knock.

The disgusting thing opens the door after pathetically crawling to it. Her hand is rather leathery for her age, the medium of her talents does rot whatever it touches in the most hideous of ways. You look at her with a judgemental tilt of your head.

Slowly, her black and beady eyes begin to gleam from the showy interior of her dwelling, the door creaking heavily as her head peeks out. Is she afraid or curious? Why have you returned to her?

You give a smile becoming of your status as a professional in these matters.

“I have brought you apples.” You say while holding out the basket. She does not yet reach.

“And bread, I have made it myself.” There is a twitch of a boney, leathery finger.

“And blankets, I imagine you must get cold here.” Now that does the trick.

Her mouth opens - it’s disgusting. Her lips are leathery too, dried and pasted to her face in a way that permanently exposes her teeth. How did you ever determine that such a corrupted thing had ever been a woman? Oh, that’s right.

She reaches for the basket and it is by the grace of your gloved hands that you do not feel her more intensely. Your ears almost ring at the proximity to her kind. You are too sensitive, too intuitive regarding their kind and their talents. The consequences are extreme disgust, of course, but today your pretty gloves keep her at bay. Your hands are pitch black from the tint of the leather, whereas hers are from filth.

She takes it so timidly. She must be so hungry and cold.

She whooshes back into her awful abode as soon as it is in her hands, not a word leaving her dry mouth nor her glossy eyes blinking. The door slams, but the old wood is rotted and hollow and the sound does not make you flinch.

Ah well, that should keep her at bay for a while. Fed, warm, weak, afraid - and away from the Towns.

And so you deal with a problem before it becomes an evil.

#stray kids fantasy au #strange devotion skz collab #stray kids au #straykidsland #hwang hyunjin #stray kids smut

24 notes · View notes

theninjasheeep · 3 years

Text

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

#pokopiku fic #pokopiku #pokkopiku fic #pokkopiku #porco galliard/pieckfinger #porco galliard x pieck finger #gallipieck #vampire aesthetic #dark fantasy

13 notes · View notes

sehunniepot · 4 years

Text

i like me better (when i’m with you) / 8

the fluffy strangers to lovers college!au in which your friends are tired of you complaining about being single and find your perfect match in the one and only campus dj, jaehyun jung.

8 summary: spring break time lapse

< prev | next >

masterlist

(a/n: 10 pictures - written blurb)

taglist

@kisskissshutmydoor @hannie-dul-set @unknownnnusersblog @svteez @shailaaa @lokideadontheinside @jaeshatshop @suhweo @stopitvpls @elmuchohottie @hannahdinse8

You sighed audibly, digging your freshly cleansed face into the fluffy embrace of your pillow.

“Why the long sigh? Not ready for break to be over?” A low voice rang from the cell phone leaning against your headrest. You lifted your head to peak through one eye and sawJaehyun’s grinning face tucked into a grey hoodie, his almond eyes hidden by his black-framed glasses. You sleepily nodded, yawning loudly as you did so.

It was the second to last day of Spring Break. He, along with Johnny, flew back to Southern California the day prior to prepare for the return of their nightly radio show. Mina and Sejeong were currently on a long flight back from Korea, the two constantly spamming you with messages claiming their undying boredom. It was to the point where you set your phone on Do Not Disturb as the notification banners were distracting you from your call.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed now? You have to wake up early tomorrow,” he mentioned softly, noticing your eyes glaze over. You and Mark were flying out the next morning and you dreaded the early flight.

“Mhmm, yeah but I wanted to stay up to talk to you,” you admitted tiredly. The late FaceTime calls became a nightly routine for you during the short vacation. It was nice to have someone wish you a sweet “good night” before you hit the hay. The calls often lasted an hour or so, the conversations ranging between what you both did that day to somewhat odd topics, like if ghosts truly existed, and you looked forward to each one. You could easily say they were the highlights of your days.

Jaehyun’s low chuckle filled your ears and your ever beating heart. “Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, you’re just really adorable when you’re trying to stay awake.” Although your eyes were half-closed and your vision was blurred, you could see his teasing smile shining through the dim light of your phone screen.

“Princess,” he cooed to which you whined back. If you weren’t so out of it, you would’ve turned red at his new pet name for you. Sure, it was your profile name on social media apps and by no means original but the boy thought it fit you perfectly, seeing as you were so obsessed with everything Disney. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy, I promise,” you mumbled, your words slurring.

“You’ll see me tomorrow,” he reminded you. “I’ll be picking you and Mark up from the airport with Mina in the morning, remember?”

“I know.”

“Did you set your alarm?”

“Yup,” you hummed back, your eyes fluttering to a close. Jaehyun watched fondly as you began to drift off to dreamland, your hair curtaining your relaxed face. How he wanted reach through the screen to move the hair away from your face.

“Good night, princess,” he whispered before ending the call. He rolled over on his bed to set his phone down on his nightstand. He stretched his arms out above his head and brought his hands to cradle his head. He really couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

#i like me better fic #jaehyun fic #jaehyun social media au #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagines #nct social media au #nct fic #nct x reader

158 notes · View notes

tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Text

a simple romance — tsukishima kei

1.5k words | genre/s: fluff, 80s!au | warning/s: — | pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

↪︎ in which you and tsukishima celebrate a simple anniversary for your simple romance

a/n: kinda plotless and just mindless word throw up because im a homeless romantic who’s whipped for tsukishima, plus it’s my 500 follower special ✋🏻😌

you and tsukishima always had quite the simple romance. the only factor that was not exactly simple was that it was tsukishima who confessed first one september day. it was early in the morning the moment the sky bled its onyx night sky into an orangey-dawn.

you had barely left the safe confines of your home when the tall blond that waited outside your door in the crisp autumn air had nonchalantly confessed. usually it was him and yamaguchi waiting for you, but you figured he made his best friend walk ahead in order to be alone with you.

it was quite surprising, really. you assumed that all you were to tsukishima was nothing but a friend, someone so annoyingly bearable that he only let you stick around because you made him bentos once in a while. and in a surprising turn of events, you accepted his feelings and the two of you have been dating primarily on the low.

having your relationship known wasn’t exactly your main priority and neither was tsukishima’s. especially considering that if his volleyball team found out, they wouldn’t leave you alone for a second without bombarding you about why you would end up with someone as salty as him. the funny thing was that you often asked yourself that as well, but with how simple your romance was, there was nothing more to answer that question besides the fact you liked being with him. so you digress.

granted, since your relationship was more or less a secret besides only yamaguchi being aware of this fact, you and tsukishima often had to see each other in away from the sight of others. most of the time is was behind closed doors, but sometimes, sometimes, very early in the mornings you two would have a sweet rendezvous somewhere behind the gym before spending the rest of the hours before school starts on the field.

with you being a member of the track team and tsukishima being in the volleyball club, the field seemed like the only plausible reason why the two of you would be there. every friday morning you two would come early just to run around the track with the cool morning breeze and the tweets of songbirds tweeted among the peaceful silence.

you and tsukishima walked upon school grounds with water bottles in hand and your walkmans in the other. you had recently gotten a new one for your birthday, the latest 1984 Sony Walkman that was progressively better in sound quality than your boyfriend’s old 1982 model, to which he stated, “how much better can it be when your music taste is trash?”

you rolled your eyes and ran ahead of him. he gets quite annoyed when you do that as he isn’t necessarily the fastest runner. the only reasons why he does these morning runs is to be with you, so you ditching made him put on that cute pout you can’t resist. besides, you would reward him with a heated make out session behind the gym or the storage closet in return.

ten laps around the track was all you two ran, occasionally making small talk on the most existential topics on whether or not aliens exist or the stupid hypothetical questions about a zombie apocalypse—to which tsukishima would tease you and say he would feed you to the zombies. but it wasn’t to say that sometimes waves of comfortable silence wouldn’t fall upon you two. you concluded that no matter what, you would always find yourself in this type of tranquil silence with tsukishima. you had even forgotten your boyfriend’s stares of admiration, rather, you didn’t actually know if his gazes were of malice, indifference, or adoration, but whatever it was you hoped it was something good.

despite dating for a year now, you still couldn’t tell the difference, but you knew deep inside your gut that was accompanied by the same butterflies that all he means is nothing but love. and you wished to show that love as today was your anniversary.

and to which tsukishima thought you couldn’t get more breathtaking than the last time you had been at each other’s companies just yesterday, it seemed he had been proven wrong. you were teeth stark against the moonlight, divulged in night torn howls of winds and slick with honor. even at your worst, with skin frayed with abrasions and scrapped knees, tsukishima still found light within your fondness. and right now, you were filled with ichor of charming homemade raptures. your boyfriend couldn’t fathom how beguiled he was for a girl he hadn’t thought of more than an add on to his friendship with yamaguchi.

after your run, you two found yourselves resting upon the bleachers near the baseball field. you rested your legs atop tsukishima’s as he fiddled with your walkman. your headphones were now rested over your boyfriend’s ears as he listened to your curated mixtape of songs you specifically listened to on your runs with tsukishima. the songs that you burned on it were special to you and him and to you and him only. the songs that reminded you two of your first date during the night when you breathed out against the late night’s mist, inhaling the stars as you and tsukishima walked hand in hand through the city—of his quips of banter, his wisecracks of pleasantries, even his annoyingly amiable witticisms that would often put you in your place of not being as clever as your boyfriend—had a special place in your heart.

your gaze, warm in admiration as you looked upon his handsome features, took him in like a breath of fresh air. he was bobbing his head lightly to the music. it made a smile melt upon your face as your thoughts were scattered by the wind (a mere light breeze) as you exhaled your silk promises. your bare knuckles grazed over his as your hand lifted to his face, running your hand through his messy blond hair.

within seconds, the mixtape clicked to an end to which tskushima kissed your palm messing at his hair as he sat up. “this is actually good,” he mutters. “perhaps your music taste isn’t as bad as i remembered.”

“that’s funny considering most of my past music taste was from you.” you jested with a smirk on your lips.

he scoffs playfully, pecking your lips quickly. “yeah right, the majority of your mixtapes were nothing but queen and abba.”

“please tell me you’re not trashing queen and abba,” you rolled your eyes and feigning offense, “they’re literally iconic.”

“if you added some mötley crüe or tears of fears, maybe it would be better.” tsukishima smirks, making you huff. “but it’s fine as since it is our anniversary today, i figured i would be nice.”

“do you want to give our gifts now?”

tsukishima nods as he smiles, “so i can listen to it throughout the day.”

your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, “how’d you know i was going to give you a mixtape?”

“mere intuition,” your boyfriend jokes, causing you to shake your head as you reached into your backpack’s front pocket. “i actually burned you one too.” tsukishima did the same as the two of you faced each other once more with mixtapes in both your hands.

your fingers brushed each others briefly as you two traded gifts. and despite contact between the two of you hadn’t been scarce, there was still that same spark and radiating warmth that would consume you two.

both had cute notes attached to it as you had both read it.

FOR MY LOVE: the first mixtape of yours that isn’t complete rubbish and the first mixtape given to you for your new 1984 Sony Walkman that you won’t stop talking about. i don’t have to worry about you liking these songs because i know you will since i know you so well. i’ve also come to notice that you like to mix severely opposite genres on one tape i.e fleetwood mac and metallica like an absolute monster. so i did that on this tape for your sake. i love you, idiot. —tsukishima kei

FOR MY BLONDIE: even though you hate listening to mainstream music, i couldn’t help but put on the latest from michael jackson, madonna, and some city pop because who else would i scream these songs until my throat is raw with? but besides that, i added some more of your favorites like twisted sister. i can’t wait for you to make fun of this mixtape because i know deep down it’s going to be one of your favorites because it came from me. i love you, dickhead. — l/n y/n

you two sit in silence for bit, doing nothing more but being in each other’s presence and embrace. letting the world before you continue to move as you looked at the tape’s songs. you were immediately struck with the feeling of the nostalgic nights with tsukishima, laughing in the dark at two in the morning of messing around and reassuring pats on the back. you two were quilted blankets and moonless nights, of warm sunspots on a cloudy day, and cherry blossom petals falling upon your hair without noticing. you were tsukishima’s cure to boredom and lack of sleep. you two were each other’s everything.

it was your simple romance.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima oneshot #hq tsukishima

153 notes · View notes

writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

The Dancer (k.h.s) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if you this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 3.2k / Ending B - 3.3k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"For the last time, Mun Hee." I cross my arms and give him a stern look, "No, we cannot bring a puppy into the hotel."

"But it would brighten up the entire place." Mun Hee pouts.

"The animal world is run through a different building and I'm pretty sure if we brought a puppy from the living world, the Gods would have my head on a silver platter." I declare, definitively ending the conversation.

Mun Hee continues to pout as we walk across the lobby.

"Why are you so pouty?" Jiwoo asks him walking up to us.

I look at Mun Hee in boredom, "He's upset that we can't have a resident puppy in the hotel."

"Excuse me." A soft voice asks from behind me.

We all turn our attention to the guest and Mun Hee immediately replaces his pout with a smile.

"How can we help you?" Jiwoo takes the lead. I stay silent, as always.

"How do I reach the sky patio?" The guest asks.

"I'll show you." Jiwoo gestures the guest towards the elevators, "It can be confusing the first time."

"He's always so busy showing people around." Mun Hee comments, shaking his head and crosses his arms in concern.

"Can you help me?" A male asks Mun Hee and he immediately puts on his helpful face.

"Yes! What can I do for you, sir?" Mun Hee dives into a conversation with the guest.

As they walk away, I scoff at Mun Hee's mood swings and head for the elevators.

"Excuse me?" A male voice makes me pause and look around for the source.

A few feet away, a young adult male stands sheepishly with a book in his hands. I shakily nod my head, his appearance taking my breath with it. He's not Hoshi, no. But he looks extremely like a student Hoshi was once close with: Samuel was his name.

"What time does the cafeteria close?" He asks.

It takes me a second to register his question. "Uh, uhm, it closes at 8am." I answer him.

"And it's downstairs, correct?" He continues.

I nod, "Yeah, you uhm, you just turn down that hall way and take the stairs."

The boy nods and thanks me before walking away. I watch in awe as he disappears around the corner.

"I'm impressed." Yong's voice suddenly appears next to me.

"Jesus!" I exclaim, holding both hands over my heart.

"Is one of the most important figures in Christianity, a religion you have no interest in." Yong says with bored sarcasm.

I straighten up, slightly upset that she would use such sarcasm after scaring me like that. "Why were you impressed?" I question, changing the topic.

Yong nods towards the corner where the boy disappeared. "I think that was the first time I've seen you help a guest in like 400 years."

I cross my arms in defiance, "He was special."

"I don't think he's one of the thirteen, is he?" Yong asks.

I shake my head, "No, he just looks extremely like Samuel."

"The one that Hoshi cared for like he was his son?" Yong questions.

I nod, "Speaking of Hoshi." I start.

"Checked in for 8 days." Yong reads off her list of guests, "And Soon Bok put him in room 156."

"(y/n)! (y/n)!" Mun Hee's screams echo through the lobby as he comes running from the outdoor beach entrance.

"What's going on, Mun Hee?" Yong asks for me.

"There's a fight!" Mun Hee frantically points towards the entrance.

I wave a dismissive hand at him, "They'll figure it out. I'm not getting involved."

"It's pretty bad." Mun Hee cringes, "Jiwoo's tried to stop it but he got knocked back!"

Annoyed anger courses through my body and my fists clench.

"Should I get the ax or the bat?" Yong simply asks me as we start to walk towards Mun Hee.

"Hurry!" Mun Hee waves his hands, motioning us clsoer.

"I haven't had a good swing in a while." I give Yong my answer without saying the word.

"Bat it is." Yong nods in understanding.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry." Mun Hee says quickly. He rushes behind us and pushes us to get us to go faster.

~The Eighth Day~

"Why do I look like a chicken and you look so good?" Mun Hee's voice echoes down the hallway.

"You do not look like a chicken," Hoshi's voice laughs at his comment, "You just need more practice, and a bit more flexibility."

"Do you think it'll actually work?" Mun Hee wonders, a little out of breath.

"Oh yeah, show her that and she'll let you get a puppy in no time." Hoshi responds and the smile on my face is wiped away.

I round the corner and find the two of them facing each other. Hoshi's got his hands shoved into his pockets but his attention is solely on Mun Hee who is excitedly talking and moving his hands about.

"I'm so gonn- oh." Mun Hee finally notices me leaning against one of the pillars. My arms are crossed and I hope from my eyes he can tell I'm not all that happy. "Heh. Hi, (y/n)." He nervously laughs and gives a small wave.

Hoshi turns and he smiles when his eyes land on me.

"Did you tell him I had already told you no to the puppy?" I question Mun Hee with a raised eyebrow.

Mun Hee lowers his head and pouts, "No." He says similar to the way a child would when they get caught between two parents.

Hoshi pats him on the back, "Don't worry. Maybe you could show it to Yong and have her take you to go see puppies instead." He suggests and I shoot him a glare.

Mun Hee, however, brightens up slightly, "Good idea." He says before running off.

Pushing off from the pillar, I walk over to Hoshi, "Stop giving him ideas. He knows we have rules."

Hoshi smirks, "I see you're still the same strict lady."

I roll my eyes and sit on the bench, legs and arms crossed. "And I see you're still the same carefree man."

"Come on, (y/n)." Hoshi coos and plops himself down next to me but I shake my head, "You weren't this strict with Samuel."

"Samuel was different." I explain simply.

"Oh, uh huh, sure." Hoshi quickly raises his eyebrows, not believing me. "How did you come across Mun Hee anyway?" He wonders.

"The same way you came across Samuel." I say, playing with my hair.

Hoshi nods. "Did he also come to your door in a basket?" He jokes.

I slap his shoulder but can't stop the laugh that comes out. "You threw that joke out so much, I'm pretty sure he believed it."

Hoshi shakes his head, "No, he never believed it."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"He told me." He tells me. "I saw him."

"Here?" I wonder.

Hoshi nods, "It was a couple days ago. He found me at the bar and told me that I may not remember him but I would and that he was thankful and that he always knew he wasn't brought to me in a basket."

I quickly rise to my feet, "He could still be here, we could find hi-"

Hoshi grabs my hand and sadly shakes his head. "He left yesterday. I saw him walking out with the Jiwoo guy." I slowly lower myself back down, hand still in Hoshi's. "By the time I had asked someone what it was all about, he'd already left."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Hoshi." I give his hand a squeeze.

"You don't have to be." Hoshi counters, "It was part of the plan so there's no one to blame. I'm just glad we were able to be in the same place for at least a little bit."

I lean my head on his shoulder, "He was a good kid." I reminisce about Samuel and my time with him.

"He was." Hoshi says quietly, "But seriously, how did Mun Hee get here?"

"You're really that curious?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Yeah, because I never expected you to have someone with his personality around." Hoshi explains.

I sigh and point towards the sky, "They did it."

"The Gods?" Hoshi clarifies.

"Yupp," I confirm, "It was a few years after I was placed here. Yong and Soon Bok were asking for help because they were running short on staff. So I had to bargain with the Gods to give me someone. They only said they would if they got to choose the soul. I had no option but to agree. Then three days later, Mun Hee showed up with Shin and that was that."

"That is not how Samuel showed up to me." Hoshi emphasizes 'not.'

"No but life gave the exact opposite from what you were expecting." I reason. "Samuel was way younger than you had hoped. Mun Hee's personality was the exact opposite of what I thought I needed in this hotel." I shrug, "Same thing."

Hoshi chuckles, "You're definition of same is vastly different from the rest of the world."

"I don't exist in that world." I remind him.

Hoshi hums in agreement then falls silent. We sit there for a couple minutes, just soaking in each other's presence with our hands interlocked. But not long after, I can feel Hoshi's buzzing energy return. Nothing different from how we were. I was the quiet one but he kept my days buzzing with energy and conversations.

"What is it?" I ask him to keep him from quite literally vibrating off the bench.

"Can I ask you a question?" He glances over at me.

I nod, "Ask me any question you want."

"What have you been doing since you left?" Hoshi asks, sincerity laced in his voice.

"Me? I mean, I haven't been doing much." I answer his question, "I've been running this hotel and waiting for life to pass by."

"No exciting stories?" He wonders, like he doesn't believe I've told him the entire truth.

"Not really." I try to think of anything interesting that has happened at my hotel but nothing comes to mind. "Honestly, nothing interesting happens when I sit and wait for years."

We fall into a silence again and this time it takes only seconds for Hoshi to start itching to ask a question.

"Spit it out." I chuckle.

"Do you want to know what happened after you left?" He asks and I mentally facepalm for forgetting to ask about him.

I turn my head to look at his side profile, "Only if you want to tell me." I smile lazily.

"If I wan- woman, of course I want to tell you. There was so much you missed that you should know about." Hoshi says as if I'd gone crazy for thinking he wouldn't want to tell me.

I sit up properly and smile, happy to know that he wants me to know. "Then tell me."

Hoshi giggles, "Alright, first off, you actually leaving was shitty. And that hurt." He starts but quickly diverts to happier things, "Samuel, though, man that kid was something. You know he went off to college. He didn't study dance even though I had asked him to think about it. But he graduated in the four years with a degree in like psychology or something."

I raise my eyebrows, "You don't even remember?"

"Hey," Hoshi points a finger at me, "It was a long time ago."

"Hey," I point a finger back at him, "You should remember what your son majored in."

"He was only a few years younger than me. He was more like a little brother than a son." Hoshi defends himself. "A son would've been cool to have, though." He says thoughtfully.

"Did you ever have any?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.

Hoshi shakes his head, "I was graced with the drama of two daughters." Then he chuckles, "You know, it was probably better that I didn't have any sons."

"Why?" I ask, amused.

"Let's just say there were moments when I was the one more interested in their interests than they were." Hoshi laughs, pulling a laugh from me.

"Did they grow up well?" I wonder, tucking a foot under my leg.

Hoshi nods, "My oldest had some health issues when she was young but they went away after a few years. My younger was a rambunctious child but had no major problems. They grew up well. They went to good schools, got good degrees, married good men. My oldest gave me three grandchildren and my younger gave me two. I was happy."

"What was your wife like?" I ask, too busy imagining his life to really think about what I was asking.

Hoshi pauses, "You want to know about her too?" He asks, giving me a skeptical look.

I shrug, "She's the one who ultimately stole your heart and gave you children and a life." I explain.

"Well, she wasn't you. But then again, no one is like you." Hoshi starts, "She was beautiful. The perfect height for me to smother her in a cuddle when she wasn't feeling great. She was always making a fuss about the mess I'd leave in the house which she passed onto our daughters. I never got a break from the nagging.

"We traveled around after our daughters moved out and started their own lives. She enjoyed the trips but I don't think she really truly understood what I loved about it all. The inspiration I pulled from the world." Hoshi continues, playing with my hand. "You always understood that part. She never did. But she let me do what I needed to do so I was thankful for that."

I smile softly knowing that he was loved after I left. He deserved it. After all he did to raise and care for Samuel and after suffering from the effects of my punishment, he deserved to be loved.

Hoshi quiets down and just stares ahead at the bare tree in front of us.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, his gaze set on the thoughts rolling through his mind.

"Just what to tell you next." Hoshi ponders.

I smile, "Hoshi, tell me everything."

He smiles brightly before starting the story about Samuel's dating life and how it was one of the most exhausting things he'd gone through.

We sit there for hours. Hoshi telling me every detail he can remember about his life and me listening and soaking up every word he says. The sound of his voice soothes some of my rough edges that had reappeared in the time I had been away from him. Like the way water tames the wild stray hairs after a sleepless night of tossing and turning in bed.

That was Hoshi. The water with energy to flow for days but with the ability to soothe my rough edges. That was my Hoshi.

"Do you think I'll remember how to dance when I cross over?" Hoshi suddenly asks as the sun dips lower.

I raise myself from my previous laying position and look at Hoshi with worry. "The Gods wouldn't take away something like that." I offer but am unsure of the answer myself.

Hoshi gives me a small side smile, "You don't even know the answer, do you?" He asks.

I shake my head, "I don't. I've never crossed so I can't say for sure what is kept and what is washed away."

"Well," Hoshi looks up towards the ceiling, "I hope you won't take away that." He says as if he's talking directly to the Gods. And I pray that they hear him.

He lowers his gaze to the west windows, "Sunset means it's time to go, right?"

I purse my lips, not wanting him to leave just yet. But Hoshi always had an equal amount of practicality to offset his amount of energy. He knew when things needed to be taken seriously.

"Your silence is telling me it is." Hoshi says after I stay silent, locked away in my own selfish thoughts.

"It is." I say quietly in confirmation. "But I don't want it to be."

Hoshi lowly chuckles, "That's not for us to decide now it is? Plus, you have others that are coming. You gotta be ready for them so when Mr. I-got-to-love-(y/n)-first arrives, you'll be able to leave this place with a peaceful heart."

I giggle at his nickname for the one who will release me from my punishment. Hoshi rises to his feet and dramatically bows while holding out a hand.

"My lady." He says, lifting his head to wink at me.

I smile at his silliness and grab his hand. Lifting me up, he suddenly pulls me into his chest, wraps the other arm around my waist and rests his nose against mine.

"What are you doing?" I whisper, relaxing into him.

Hoshi smiles lazily, "Enjoying my time with you." He says before kissing me lightly.

Before he can pull away, I press my lips onto his, giving him another kiss, this time harder. I feel him smile before he attacks my cheeks with kisses. Giggling, I try to pull away but his grip on me is like iron, unbreakable. Hoshi presses a final soft kiss onto the tip of my nose before pulling back.

"We should go." He says, unwrapping his arm from my waist. "I don't want that creepy Grim Reaper to be hunting me."

I laugh at the version of Shin that Hoshi is imagining. He smiles at my laughter and we begin to walk out of the garden. Hoshi swings our arms back and forth but his face is thinking, trying to cover up the sad thoughts with happy actions.

I'm so focused on watching Hoshi's face, that I don't realize we've exited the hotel until my heels sink into the soft dirt.

"Careful." Hoshi steadies me. He then glances at Shin and the car waiting to take him over. "Does he always just wait there?"

"Only when someone is leaving." I answer him as we resume walking towards Shin. "The dead are great at being punctual."

Hoshi releases a breathy laugh at my attempted joke. "I guess I shouldn't be the one that's not then."

I wrap him in a hug as Shin opens the car door. Hoshi squeezes my body tightly and I breathe in his familiar scent one last time.

"I'm going to remember you." Hoshi declares quietly, "Even if I don't remember, I'm going to remember."

I choke out a laugh through the tears that line my eyes, "That's not even possible."

We pull apart as I sniffle. Hoshi wears a smile but his eyes are clouded with sadness. "Just you watch. I'm going to do it, love. I'm going to remember you."

I smile a nod, "I love you." I tell him.

"I love you, (y/n)." Hoshi smiles sadly before turning and walking to the car. He pauses for a second just before he's in the car and turns around, "Does he ever smile?" Hoshi points a thumb at Shin.

I laugh as a tear slides down my cheek and Hoshi, satisfied that he got me laughing, ducks into the car. Shin shuts the door behind him and soon the car is on its way.

As I watch the car take my dancer away, tears slowly fall from my eyes. When the car is fully swallowed by the forest fog, one chrysanthemum in my garden loses its bright white petals and withers away.

After my tears have been spent, I dry my cheeks and sniffle on the way back inside the hotel to continue my waiting.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

"Hey, (y/n)," Hoshi grabs my attention as the sun sets, "Do you think we'll remember how to dance when we cross over?" He asks.

"You mean will you remember how to dance and will I remember how to look like a toddler learning how to walk." I correct him with a smile.

"You could dance." Hoshi reassures me.

I give him a look of 'really?' "If Mun Hee looked like a chicken trying to learn your dances, then I looked like baby giraffe trying to stand up."

Hoshi barks out laughing, "I find that hard to believe. I thought you were pretty graceful."

I hum in amusement, "That was when I was younger. My knees are older than you remember."

"Do your knees still work to walk?" He asks, standing up, and shoving his hands in his pockets, waiting expectantly.

I jump up to prove they work, "If they didn't, would you have carried me?" I question.

"In a heartbeat." Hoshi dramatically places a hand over his heart and closes his eyes.

I giggle, "Come on. I wanna say good bye to my staff before we leave."

"Happy to be leaving?" Hoshi asks as we leave the bare tree behind.

"I'm happy that my punishment is over," I answer, "But part of me is kind of sad to be leaving Soon Bok, Jiwoo, Yong, Mun Hee, and Shin."

"That's natural." Hoshi says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

As we get closer to the lobby, Hoshi drops his arm and grabs my hand. In the lobby, Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise." Then I hold out my pinky to him, "And no puppies."

Mun Hee links his pinky with mine, "No puppies." He promises.

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, "You will. But thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Hoshi grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Hoshi and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opting to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Hoshi softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Hoshi securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

#kpop #kpop imagines #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen hoshi imagine #seventeen soonyoung imagine #hoshi imagine #soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung imagine #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #writer-k-pop #waning crescent hotel #seventeen hoshi #seventeen soonyoung

18 notes · View notes

hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

poison & wine- part 16

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1591

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: If you’ll like to be tagged please reach out to me!

poison & wine masterlist

Your eyes flutter open just to find the stars on the ceiling long gone. The light of the Asgardian sunrise had cast the darkness of the room away and you wonder how early you have to wake in order to witness it in person. You make a mental note to ask the girls but are disrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

Loki and you had unknowingly gone to bed early and had skipped dinner. It hadn’t been your intention but you were starving now and hoped the girls would be coming by soon with breakfast.

Recalling Loki, you look over at his side of the bed to surprisingly find him still there. He seemed to still be asleep so you try to be as quiet as can be as you start to step out of the bed.

You manage to pull the bed cover away on your own making you suspicious of foul play the night prior. As you turn back to fix it, you find yourself staring at Loki’s bare back. You dropped the cover where it was and couldn’t help but stare.

The entirety of his back was mangled with an array of scars. Some long and jagged, others short and straight. There was a variety and you wondered how he could have survived any of them.

You had your history of scars.

None on you but to the people around you.

You recall your time as an army nurse. The mangled bodies you saw on a daily basis. New and old scars that scattered around the men fighting for their loved ones back at home. You knew what could cause them and how they could heal. You knew which ones would fade away with time and which ones would remain a reminder forever.

Loki’s back was scattered with the worst ones you’ve ever seen. Especially as you recalled that his body was meant to be able to withstand much more than a mortal body ever could. Whoever did this to him must have been very strong and the pain… You can’t even imagine the level of pain he must have felt.

None of the scars look like they healed with care. The way his skin was discolored beyond the wound made you aware that he must have been left to deal with them on his own. Wounded, tortured, perhaps left to die.

Someone hurt him. Someone hurt him very badly.

Your hand itches to run your hand across his back. An ill attempt to heal something just by the pure will of it. You know it’s impossible but you wish to at least try.

So you do... or at least you try to before you’re interrupted by Loki’s groan. He hums as he turns onto his back to stretch, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“What are you doing?” Loki asks.

You pull your hand back and try to erase the last minute away from your mind.

“Trying to see if you were alive,” you manage to lie. “You are awfully still when asleep. It looks like you’re dead.”

Loki stares in response. His eyes narrow down at you trying to gauge if your words were true or not. Though in the end, it didn’t matter as he shook his head and sat up. His back faces you again but the scars you had seen had disappeared. His back was bare from any of it.

You blink and then you blink again but Loki’s back remains scar-free.

Part of you wonders if it had all been a figment of your imagination, but like the bed cover and the stars glowing in the ceiling, you knew this cover up had something to do with the use of seidr. You just didn’t know why.

A timid knock on the door disrupts your thoughts and you are quick to shift your attention elsewhere. You reach for your robe and tug it on just as Loki stands up from the bed and reaches your side.

“Come in,” he bellows as he swings an arm around your waist and pulls you to him. You catch yourself on his chest and you have to refrain from following your instincts which were telling you to push him away. Instead, you let your hands remain where they are as the doors begin to open. “Good morning, girls.”

“Good morning, your majesty.”

“Start on breakfast without me,” Loki states as he pulls away from you. “I’ll be in the library doing some light reading.”

He winks at you and turns to your handmaidens who are trying their hardest to stare at his face. Loki only grins and snaps his fingers to dress himself alleviating the tension in the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” you ask, capturing his attention once more.

He turns to look at you in question and you don’t understand why you’re even offering to spend more time with him. The silence stretches out a second too long but Loki immediately fixes it by simply smiling down at you.

“Missing me already, pet?” he asks.

You couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at the question.

“You know I always do,” you manage to respond sweetly. “It’s why I keep coming back to you.”

Loki's smile manages to grow wider before he presses a kiss on your forehead. You let out your breath when the touch of his lips on your skin disappears. His hold on your face doesn’t leave as he tilts your head up so that you may look at him.

His eyes flutter to your lips and a spike of anxiety runs through your spine at the thought of him kissing you again.

He doesn’t.

“I won’t be away for too long,” Loki states as he releases you. “I’ll be back to share lunch with you.”

Without another word, Loki makes his way out of your room leaving you at the care of your handmaidens.

Loki flipped through the travel archives with exasperated boredom. He hadn’t realized how many outings were cataloged from the past century. He knew that Thor and he had taken advantage of traveling to other realms with any excuse at all. Loki was growing to regret it as each visit was written down.

There were pages upon pages concerning Thor and his travels that Loki was having a hard time trying to narrow down other royal members who had left Asgard for whatever purpose necessary. It became more complicated as visits to Midgard were non-existent.

It was like looking for a needle in a haystack except Loki didn’t know what the needle looked like.

“Trouble?”

Loki looks up from the catalog to find his mother staring down at him with an amused smile. He glances around momentarily to make sure they were alone and nods.

“I can’t seem to find any trace of recent travel to Midgard,” Loki sighs out. “There’s too many transcriptions that it’s taking longer for me to get through them all.”

“Hmm,” Frigga hums as she takes the book from Loki and looks through it. “Well, perhaps you should be looking through something more recent. The girl is a bit younger than this, isn’t she?”

“I’ve started around the year of her birth but nothing appears,” Loki sighs out as he pulls the first book he started with from the stack. “So I assumed that perhaps her father arrived earlier.”

“And you found nothing?”

“Nothing,” Loki sighs out. “And I doubt anyone could have traveled down and stayed for longer than a century. Odin would never allow such a long visit.”

Frigga scowls and sets the book down.

“Well then that’s quite a problem, isn’t it?”

Loki watches as her mother begins to pace.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her.

“Either her father traveled through other means...” Frigga states.

“That’s impossible seeing as Midgard has travel records that indicate the Bifrost was used.”

“Which then leaves us with another troublesome predicament,” Frigga sighs out unhappily.

“Which is?”

“That your father sent him down secretly.”

“Why would Odin do such a thing?” Loki asks confused.

“I don’t know,” Frigga shrugs. “It could have been a short banishment like your brother or perhaps another reason altogether. Either way, those records would be sealed with your father having sole access.”

Loki lets out a heavy sigh unsure of what he was meant to do now.

“This has become too complicated.”

“It sure has,” Frigga agrees as she takes the seat next to him. “But for her sake, we must continue our search.”

“How?” Loki asks. “By asking Odin?”

“Yes, that’s…”

“No,” Loki interrupts her. “He’ll immediately want an explanation and what am I to tell him?”

“The truth, Loki.”

“Absolutely not,” Loki exclaims.

“Why not?” Frigga asks him. “For her safety? Or because you abhor the idea of telling the truth to your father?”

“He’s not my father!”

Frigga remains silent, her lips pressed together tightly. She waits for Loki to calm down watching his deep breaths return to a normal pace. He realizes his overreaction and turns to face her apologetically.

“I do not need to rely on that man more than I already have to,” Loki states. “I will find Y/N’s father and keep her safe on my own.”

Frigga lets out a sigh knowing there was no way to convince him otherwise.

“Then so be it,” Frigga resigns. “But whatever shall you do now?”

Loki didn’t have an answer to her question. His only hope relied on you and so that was the only path he could take at the moment.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @sigyn-njorddottir @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak

158 notes · View notes

delightsan · 4 years

Text

FLAME (II) | CS

⁕ genre: fuck boy!san, bad boy!au, college!au, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers

⁕ pairings: choi san x fem!reader

⁕ words: 6.4k

⁕ description: keeping the title of being the best student on campus isn’t easy for you, especially when your mind was occupied only by him and his annoying smirk, the popular bad boy who once decided to sets on fire your heart without anybody’s permission

⁕ warnings: explicit language, suggestive remarks, smoking & alcohol

read the prologue and the chapter one

The sociable cafeteria is filled with people whose names you can't remember, but their curious stares welcome you with affectionate embrace, as soon you enter the huge space of the room. The embrace you crave, since San planted the promising rays of hope in your heart, it's devastating to you, because the only concern which matters are his gleaming eyes, full of chestnut color and mischievous spark. His presence is absolutely breathtaking. You're indeed a fragile prisoner of his burning touch, and the lustful gaze, soon as you would gentle rub affectionate circles on his arms tattoo's beauty, the night before, where the only sound was your rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. He left the blurry trace of passionate kisses down your pale neck to remind you about his intentions, when you see the purple marks of his unspoken words.

Choi San's eerie relationship with you are the cause of your ruthless nights, but you will gladly suffer for him if it meant he would hold your hand in his warm palms, and smooch your face in kisses.

Rushing at the end of long line to the bufet, you scan the surroundings in a haste glance to spot his glowing figure, seated between the rest of his friends, it's utterly mindblowing, the way your stomach churns with pleasant anxiety when his starry eyes meet with yours. San's dazzling existence throws you into the vortex of emotions, where the love is struggling against the malicious demons of your fears. He's dressed in his usual clothes, the color black highlights his sharp facial features, and the used martens on his feet shows his rebellious side.

You bow in grateful at the elderly woman, who give you the meal of the day, thanking her for the extra portion of rice, as your stomach grumble at the lack of the daily food intake. The kindly gesture make you smile in delight, while the other students talk feverishly about the last soccer game in which the boy, whose angelic voice is like the sweetest honey, Jongho won a golden tropheum for the school's team. He becomes a hero in the eyes of the thousands of people and Hongjoong's, who is proud to call himself a father figure. ATEEZ have a lot of outstanding achievements on their side, they are a gang of gifted kids with deadly stares and auras, for example Hongjoong godly hands are great at crafting, he is a owner of his own fashion brand, called "star1117", in which "Mars" is a main model, and that's your beloved saviour Seonghwa. Yunho's long to heaven legs are born to dance on the big scene, along with Wooyoung's powerful movements and San's acute technique. Yeosang is the expanded mind behind the drones, Mingi is a soundcloud rapper, who still takes baby steps in his career, but is already famous on the campus, and Jongho is a star of the football team.

The pretty girl, who would wave in excitment at seeing your presence in the entrance to the cafeteria, before your spirit had lost his way on earth, to land in the gates of hell by San's intoxicating appearance is your bestfriend. Her name is Yeji and she is a lovable person, the definition of your half missing, with a adventurous heart and daring smile, catching the attention for her stunning looks in both genders, but the confessions of the admirers are always denied in order to search for her unrequited love in Wooyoung's sparkling eyes. You know she deserves someone better than a mere boy, but Wooyoung is a perfect example of being out of her league. The hands contaminated with sins of his could never reach her, as you protect her through the life, like a guardian angel, who failed himself agaisnt the bright side of good, as he signed a pact with the devil, to let his heart rotts in hell.

She is excessively pure to be in a dark place, the same as you, where you are fighting with your sins, doubouting the feelings of innermost love and the power of God. To be honest, you had grown to have a loads of faith in every existence, which drifts in the subconsciousness of your mind, while trying to defeat the ghosts of cruel prejudice, as you want to believe in his sincere words and his innocence. Perhaps Wooyoung's adorable giggles and goofy smiles, that creates with care his mesmerizing crescents eyes, which are underlined with smoky eyeliner, aren't plaugued with demons, maybe his easy going aura isn't fraud in lies, maybe he is way more different than you think.

Truth to be told, you shouldn't ponder over it and you shouldn't be hanging around San or his friends as much as you do, but you can't help the desire to.

You greet Yeji with a soft grin, muttering a faintly "hi", while taking the free spot beside her at the wooden table, at which she beams at you in delighment, happy about your your presence, but soon her strong gaze gets bored of you, and wanders towards the source of her happiness. "What's so interesting, hm?" you say, acting dumbfounded at her behaviour to ignore the pain inside your chest, the betrayl it is. She's long lost to the paradise of him, Jung Wooyoung is the reason behind her loving stares and fast heartbeat, you failed miserably at being her guardian angel, but maybe that's what the destiny write in their galaxies.

Yeji bites her plump lips in anxiety, curling a lock of her black hair between fingers, the feeling of infatuation on her face, and you sigh, while she spares you a glance, it's filled with deep affection, and a smile ghosts over her cherry lips. The view of the boys belonging to the ATEEZ came into your frame, as she bumps her head towards them, where all of them eating their lunch in peace, and her smile is reciprocated by Wooyoung. "Oh, Wooyoung? Is something there between you and him?"

"No, well not yet of course, but maybe soon." Yeji says with a sorrow, it's obvious, groaning in annoyance like a lovestruck teeneger, who can't decide which kind of dress would be the best option for a memorable date with a crush, a cute ribbon dress or sexy tight dress. The mischievous cupidin, who travels the world in search of his miserable victims, not only hit you both with his influential arrow, making you a fools for his entertainment at your clumsy attempts to feel being beloved.

She is dedicateted to the idea of Jung Wooyoung being selected by gods to be her first and last love, but he likes to deny the allegations of being the leading light in her life, even if she deeply cares for him and treasure the feeling of dedication to him.

You want to beliefe it also, maybe some souls are meant to be together, bound by the red thread of destiny to the end of their fulfilled life.

The obnoxious sight of the stupid girls at the left side of the room, who would swoon over the holy eightly of boys, in which Wooyoung's high pitched laugh is heard everywhere, because San's another corny joke about big dicks is hilarious to him, is a painful sight for Yeji. Her significant other is looking at the stranger blonde with a lewd eyes, the picture is what trashes violently your heart and your lungs feel as if on fire, you pity your besfriend, she doesn't deserve the treatment of feeding up with his false hope. Jung Wooyoung likes to play a sick roulette with her genuine feelings towards him, doesn't give a single fuck about the consequences of his sinful actions.

Choi San does seem to care, though, because he catches your furious stare, which could burn the holes in Wooyoung's shaky with laughter figure, the devil itself apologize for the behaviour of his beloved friend. Bad habits are tough to break, blinded by a hand of foolish lust in frail attempts to take the boredom out by being an asshole, as the bitter aftertaste of forbidden fruit never tasted so good. You smile softly to him, to reassure him it's not his fault, because he can't control the actions of the other person. Rubbing small circles on the back of your friend to lift her ruined mood, while Seonghwa notices your gaze filled with adoration towards San, he smirks in a mockery, and you make a disgusted face, as Hongjoong giggles like a sweet kid at your exchanges, but you throw at Seonghwa a middle finger, at which he gaps offended. San's concerned face is what make you bashful of your previous poor actions, as he narrow his cat like eyes at you in order to search for a cause of your outbusrt.

Fuck, Seonghwa you are dead to me.

You hide shyly behind Yeji's small shoulders like a scaredy cat, who was caught at scratching the favourite furniture of his owners, the feeling of shame is creeping at your face, while avoiding his puzzling glare. "So he likes me, huh?" you whisper in a hush, trying to convince yourself once again about the sincerity of those significant words, which sound like sweet nothings in a romantic fairytale in your mouth. The tight grip of yours at the girl's pink blouse is a definition of your tiresome doubts, you wish to the vivid stars to save you from oppression of the snares of love.

You don’t know when you fell in love with him. You don’t even know if you fell for him at some point in life or if you’ve loved him from the beginning of your life, or maybe far before the two of you existed, but his declaration of love locks you in a cage of wonders, making you a helpless bird.

Yeji is astonished, when she comprehend your remark, and she quirks her eyebrows at you. "Wait, hold on. (Y/N) is there someone interested in you or my delusional mind is playing tricks on me, because I heard that someone likes you."

The light shade of pink adorns your face like a spreading flu, the trembling of your hands and the dizziness in your head it's the effects of your disease, which San is the cause. Unlike the flu, it won't disappear, when you treat it with a care, the only way to get rid of the disease it's by hurting him right through with a piercing bullet, but you can't do it, when he looks at you with a smile, that can melt your heart. You quickly shake your head, don't knowing about the breath you were holding, when she ask you the question. "No, what do you mean." She wouldn't let you go so easily, she do know about your defensive position, as you like to run away without giving a proper answer.

She sighs. "Okay, listen. Maybe I'm not the smartest kid in our school like you, but I can't ignore the way San is looking at you. He is eye fucking you everytime he sees you, it's fascinating to per say." she mocks you in a childish manner. "What the fuck? Yeji, shut up! It's embarrassing, while you say it like that." "I don't care, tell me what's between the two of you."

To fight her in an unequal battle is hopeless, because the possibility of you winning is none, the victory is negligible, as you would never win an argument with her strong points. She is like a brave lioness who defends her children against the threats by other animals, she also have a soft spot, which is Jung Wooyoung, but you wouldn't dare to touch the burning subject of her love, as you could die in the agony, and there would be nothing left but ashes of your mistake. "Fine, you ass." you roll your eyes at her, maybe admitting to your obscure desires is a good step to believe in impossible. The weight of your insistent insecurity is tugging you down, but your desire to fly between the old friends, made in heaven where the clouds are the epitome of warm embrace is stronger. "I like San." you confess. "He said he likes me, when I was with him in the library, he confessed to me about his love, and the world suddenly started to overflow with it colors. I want to try, but my insecurities are making it hard to believe, but we kissed-" Your voice is shakier and more broken than you’d ever thought it could be.

"Hey, don't. You need to understand that you are amazing." she cooes. "I'm not surprised he likes you, you have heart made of gold and personality who shines like the brightest gem in the world, everything about you screams perfect." her reassuring words, which soothe your strained nerves in pleasure of joy, as you nod in agreement are a reason behind your shy smile. Yeji is a great friend, you believe that the only reason you became best friends was the fact that you didn’t let her vanish into the sea of doubtness, when there was no one who would extend a helping hand to her lifeless body. "Give yourself some time and most importantly trust him, everyone deserve a chance."

Your romance is not like any other love story unless you consider painful longing to the point of self-destruction as normal occurrences, he demolishes your soul and paints the idea of spending more time with him into the world of unknown, because you are, once again, convinced that Choi San was born to mess with your heart. The idea of being devoted lovers, burns the unseen scars at the pit of your stomach, because it feels distant, but also so close within reach, it sounds unfeasible, but also so beautiful, as you think about his hot touches on your skin. You care for him deeply, he knows the struggle of being misjudged just based on the foolish decisions made in past, but everyone do mistakes, which leads to a irritating effects in the future, haunting us like the worst nightmare.

We need to understand that people aren't faultless.

The longing picture of San's getting out of shackles of the rebel, sealed by his sins, drifts into the subconscious state of your mind like a dove of hope, letting you imagine to be the person, who is willing to help him and experience his transformation, it's fullfilling your senses. To dream about the future next to him, where kisses are laced with love, the passion and where fondly words of utter adoration are whispered in the deadly night is deadlier than anything else in this world. But you pray to God, promising to be a good cause of his wrongdoings, which will lead to his change, because no suffering like this would ever break him free. "You are right, thank you."

"We are friends, it's not a big deal. Now promise me, you will never doubt yourself again."

"I promise." you smile.

You're deep lost in the meaningful conversation with Yeji to notice the flaming presence of San, whose delicate hand touches your fragile shoulder to get your attention on him, and you melt the moment his burning touch you. He smells like cotton candy, when he wasn't smoking, and his whole aura seems to brighten entirely at the prospect of your sparkling eyes on his, and you allow a giggle to slip past your, when his cherry lips grins at you in a toothy smile, the round cheeks after the meal makes him adorable, how can he be a personification of the devil. His red hair is styled back, showing perfectly his forehead and the intensity of his eyes, the charming dimples you grow to love don't ever disappoint to take away your breath. "Be at the library at 5PM, don't be late." His tone is soft and gentle and you decide, that you hate Choi San for making you fall so carelessly in love with him. He was gone, by the end of the bell sound, and his intoxicating scent also gone with him.

And the warmth, you are already missing.

"Good luck, (Y/N)." Yeji squeezes your arm, and make her way towards the next lecture.

The rest of the day went smoothly, sharing some classes with San doesn't help you with your studies, it's a poison to your grades, but an antidote for your lonliness, as the monotonous lecture with Mr. Kim is coming to an end soon. You chuckle at his little love letters, which he puts in your sweater pocket, most of them consists of a cheesy pickup lanes, like "For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on." and "Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?" His hot breath on your neck, makes you shiver in a pleasure, when you sit in front of him, as you decide to abandon your pet's teacher seat in the displeasure of the scolding look of the lecturer, but you couldn't care less. "Come meet me at your locker." the last letter says, and you are introduced the state of euphoria.

The bell once again rings, not only signaling the end of the lecture, but also the rapid beating of your heart.

You turn around, exited to see his beautiful face, but you are slightly late, as he are already nowhere to be seen in the class along with his table partner Yunho, who reminds you of a big polar bear. Packing your belongings, you got a message form an unknown number, which shocks you to the core, "Don't trust him, he is not worth it." those words are driving you mad crazy. What the hell. You don't think much of it, but there is an empty feeling in your chest, as if a dark force settled down your stomach to bug out your day. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit, it was too late to take a step back.

"Fuck this." you curse under your breath, exciting the class to look for San.

You take the steps, needed to arrive next to his strong figure, Yunho nowhere to be seen, and you offer him the bestest smile you can, perhaps, filled with every emotion you can't hide. The air around you is suffocating, he radiates an angelic glow, uncommon to him, you can't help but place a gentle kiss on his cheek, when he leanded nonchalantly against your locker, his shoulder relaxes visibly at your loving presence. San sends you a sly grin and tugs at the end of your blue sweater to draw you into his arms, eyes focused onto the sweet source of his happiness. "What was that for?" he pats the top of your head and places his hand on the small of your back, his actions are enough to make your heart stop beating, because his beauty defined by high cheekbones and dark arched eyebrows are the defenition of perfection.

"I don't know." you splutter. "I suddenly got an urge to do it or maybe I wanted to prove to you about the theory of meteorite impact to the ground, which would kill all of the dinosaurs. "

"Oh, why did you make me aware of death of dinosaurs, it's sad. Can you kiss me again to make my pain go away?"

"Kiddo." his forehead presses against yours, as you lean into him and press your lips against his ear, hands intertwined tightly and the scent still overwhelming. You place a fond kiss at the hem of his ear, whispering about sweet nothings, the boldness of your actions are enough to make him stiff in place, as you take your time to look at him, to drink in his perfect features. He’s sun kissed, you notice, and his lips are red and curved into a small smile. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you care to admit. "No more kisses." you laugh.

You pull away from him, and his bottom lip pops out, forming a pout and you have a strong desire to trace it with your fingers and your mouth like you did back then on the balcony, where the bright sun embodied your serene emotions. "I can always steal it, princess." he teases, and you break out into an easy grin, as he placed a chaste kiss at your soft lips.

"Let's go. I'm not in the mood to study anymore."

"There is still one lesson ahead of us, San."

"So what? I want to spend rest of the day with my girlfriend. Now come on baby, don't make me beg you."

He promised to make you fall in a twisted snares of love with him, his burning touches which ignites the fire will be the answer to your hopeless eyes, and he will prove the sincerity of his intentions, when you decide to run away with the knight in laether jacket to find the source of your happiness. There is no place for deep reflections, you want him to degrade you with his dark life, and to be a part of his kingdom, because ruling without the queen was already hard for him. The world can burn in noxious agony, if it means he would be there with your connected soul, holding you closely in a affectionate embrace, as your trembling hands finds way to his sharp face adorned with the most attractive smile.

"Fine, let's go." you mutter under your breath, and San lets out a quiet and triumphant yes slip from his lips, as he eagerly grabs your hand in his warm one, to assure you about the correctness of this choice and leads you to the courtyard, where his black motorbike is parked.

Choi San is the love of your life, you decide, as you watch him, hand held tightly by him. San is everything you want and more, he is fullfilling your senses with wholesome ecstasy, you drink up his presence in the gleaming sun, a view satisfying like the miracle oasis in the middle of tropical desert. You look at him and smile.

He is beautiful.

He attentively puts a helmet on your head, his face scrunch in concentration, his tongue pokes out of his mouth, when he was focused on protecting you from inevitable, he flashes you a dimple grin, which you return. "It will protect you. I hope you aren't afraid of speed." The thrilling feeling of adrenaline kicks in, as San's motor roars in the air like a obsessed mantra, your heart beating abruptly in your chest at the frantic sound. You are terrified, but the look of pacification on his blissful face, you long to is enough for you to hop into the embrace of death, hugging his calming back from behind. "Good girl."

The fast ride through the city with San reminds you of playing with fire, it could be a lethal weapon in the wrong hands, taking away your reckless life, when you handle it without proper caution. Life isn't beautiful without taking a risk, perhaps it's easier to put your faith in devil's sharp claws, than look for the light in angel's halo, because San's calming presence is enough for you to endure the feeling of frighten. He is aware of your trembling hands, you can't control, the swift breaths you take to soothe your racing nerves, while you melt into his figure to gain the courage, as he speeds up down the road. The destination is unknown to you, he hasn't metioned where he wish to take you, kissing you with the burning passion, holding you close in his arms till your worries of unrequited love vanish into the void, leaving a space for an attachment.

You trust San with the remaining strength in you, it isn't difficult, but you can't resist fluttering shut your eyes to ease the throbbing of your heart, you know nothing awful will happend to you, if he is here to remind you of his close proximity. "Baby, we are here. Open your pretty eyes, you can't miss the view." The ride came to an end when his divine voice comes out of his throat, the moment his yearning palms touch your gentle face to reveal you from the helmet, it's devastating for him, he can't let go of your pure smiles and soft chuckles at his sugared praises about your bravery. He is mesmerized by your angelic purity, the taste of blissful heaven never tasted so delectable at his tongue, as he molds your lips in a heated adventure between clouds. His intoxicating scent make you lightheaded, teeth clashing together in a messy battle of dominance and you let his lustful desires win, the low whimper escapes from his mouth. Believing in God is unnecessary for him, but believing in the miracles of blue paradise is right, because he could meet you.

The mesmerizing view of ocean absorbs your attention, it's beautiful, the sun is near to set and the colors of orange and red are visible in the sky, interwined together in a fierce dance to create a gorgeous convolution of emotions, where the stray souls would find the answer for their longing questions. San's head falls down into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume, the smell he craves, his warm embrace on your waist grow in strength, as the cold breeze hit his back. He place another chaste kiss down your neck, your delicate hand is gripping at the red hair on top of his head, when your lips tremble at the close inticimaty, but he pulls away completely and you feel cold and empty, as he flashes you a sly grin.

"I thought it would be nice to enjoy the sunset, while we will be busy making out like horny teenegers." San's glowing eyes forms the crescents, his sharp features softens in the vivid twilight, when he teases you, as he ruffles your hair with a precious laugh. He is uterrly beutiful in every way, you think, from the reflection of luminescent stars in his eyes, the freckles on his neck made of stardust, you yearn to explore with your desirable touch, to his flawlessly shaped waist, as it fits perfectly in your arms. But he is brighter than all stars above. "It was a joke of course, but it doesn't sounds so bad in my opinion." He flashes you a mischievous grin, eyes flaming as he stared you down with an interest.

You giggle, subtly pressing harder against him, the heat rolling off his body, he will be the death of you, but the state of limerence is amazing, you can't restrain from his charms, the God had taken his time with him, so why he had to banish him to the gates of hell? "You're gross." you flicker his forehead, smiling with adoration, when his face pouts a disappointment, a little whine escapes his mouth. Then you realize the God is awful, maybe San isn't uninfected with sins, he never prayed, but he tries to be good in his own, unique way.

Because Choi San is open minded, the heavy curtains of the cruel world aren't enough to fool his divine eyes, and maybe you're dancing with the devil, but it doesn't frighten you. Being partly good is better than being artificial pure. San laid his leather jacket that smells like his cologne on your shoulders, as he sees you shivering under the circumstance of cold wind, his arms now exposed fully to you, the antic makes you blush and you throw him a sheepish smile to hide the cherry like flush. "No, just madly in love with you, princess." he takes out the cigarette from the back pocket of his jeans, lighting it up immediately, with a cunning smirk, it's the sin he is addicted to, the smoke surrounding him seems to embrace him gracefully.

The motorcycle seat beneath you is like a safe home to you, when still in place without the danger of speed, it's comforting you in every possible way, and his godly presence makes it even better, it's like the best antidote for solitude. "Are you always this smooth with your words?" you ask, biting your trembling lips, as his intense stare is burning holes on your redden face. He hums in dismiss, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds passed by. "Can I have one?" your breath hitches in your throat, when his large palms clutches your chin in a gentle touch.

Choi San is the cause of the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"Can you be honest with me? Tell me, have you ever smoke?" he says, searching in your eyes for a genuine answer, but you can never lie to him, as the weight of the repulsiveun untruth is inordinately heavy, you couldn't carry it throught the life.

"No."

"Then the answer is also no, angel." his delicate grip on you has loosened, as he lets go of your chin, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you whimper in his chest at the lose of his warmth. He doesn't fancy the idea of you being addicted to the awful nicotine because of him, the deadly treat isn't worth losing your flawless purity, and for San you are a good girl made of pure porcelain, too fragile for this dark world. Good girls don't smoke. You clutch at his black shirt, as he lowers his head in order to move his lips to your cheek, while you inhale deeply his intoxicating scent and you’ve never felt more alive than you did then, in San's arms – the one boy who sets your heart in flames.

"But I want to try, please San. Let me, it will be my first and last time. I promise." you whine, the high hopes in your mind, because San can't resist your soft pleadings, as he is a slave of your angelic voice, but he doesn't mind as long, as you are his cause of rapid heartbeat. Truth to be told, both of you are too lost into the world of love, Choi San has committed to you, and you seal the deal with the devil itself, as you press an open mouthed kiss on his neck and then on his jaw, landing on his lips at the end. And yes, maybe it can bring the pain and sorrow, but the embrace of the devil is worth it.

He chuckles, and it’s low and throaty, his right hand ends up on your neck in a firm grip, leaving a trace of hell, which burns you alive. You aren't afraid of his crimes anymore, beacuse Choi San is the reason of the flowing sensation in your veins, as he pushes you harder into his body, taking a deep inxhale from the cigarette with the other hand. He molds together your plump lips in a sensual kiss, the other hand finds the way to your cheek, the metal cold rings on his fingers are sending you to overdive, as his mouth opens against yours and his tongue licks eagrly at the entrance of your lips. You give in to his burning touch, mouth feeling hot and a heavy, the sensation of fullness settles into the pit of your chest, as he kisses you harder and more urgent, exhaling the deathly smoke into your lungs. San is needy, but you don't mind, as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. There’s no reason to hold back, you desire his proximaty and he desires yours, it's the definition of selling your soul to the bad side.

Your fingers reach for his hair, feeling the fluffiness of his locks, as San breaks the kiss, when the overflow of smoke in your mouth chokes you, and your hazy eyes still fixated on his swollen lips, which forms a cocky grin. "I can't believe you said it was your last, when you are looking at me like this, sweetheart." You struggle to breathe, as his hands cup your face in between them, rough fingertips rubbing circles into the skin, and you blush harder than you thought possible, when a low and guttural moan leaves the back of his throat. "Fuck, it's hard for me to restrain."

"Sorry."

The overwhelming weight of the intense battle, filled with lustful touches and hot kisses, leaves you hot-blooded, and you wish it would last longer, because San is the reason of your mad addiction and sins, which pulls you down into the hole of thirst. You don't regret giving up, the pit in your stomach deepens and your thoughts swirl around in your head like sweet promises, because you can see the love oozing in his chestnut eyes, and you swear you fell in love with him once again. San rests his forehead against your heart, the sound of your rapid heartbeat is like a beloved lullaby for him, cooing him to fall into the marvellous dreamland, but the gates to the underworld of Hades are watching him, proud of his actions, because you sinned, and the God will never forgive you, but if that means rotting in hell together with San, then it's alright to do so. You are sure that you can endure it, because Choi San is your medicine for pain.

"Don't be, it's my fault. I got too carried away, but I can't help it, you are driving me crazy." his fingers brush at the strands falling into your eyes and he presses another quick kiss onto your longing mouth. There is no air left in your lungs, and they burn with need yet you neglect them. "Do you like the place?" he flashes you a gentle smile, pushing up the jacket on you, which had slip when you were too engaged in each other mouths, and he moves away completly from you to let you see the breattaking view, as he stands next to you. It eases your neglected pain.

The beautiful place pulled straight out of a fairy tale, reminds you of the place, where you had spend most of your childhood, but you can't recognize it, as your memories are blurry. "Yes, I do!" you answer, looking at the sunset in awe. "I feel like I was here before, but I can't remember it." you sigh. "I have a feeling that I used to spend a lot of time here, coll-" you say in a daze, but San interrupts you with a unreadable grin, when you look his way, to see how the sun is glowing at his honey like skin, making him a untouchable piece of art, the messy hair stand on all sides from the previous actions, but he still looks saintly.

"Collecting the colorful sheels and screaming about the invisible fishes in the water, which would scare you to the bones?" he finishes the sentence for you, and you, quite simply put, forget how to breathe. San smiles a bright smile, pearly whites on display, and you see the glimmer of the orbs in his eyes. You blink at him in confusion. "Yeah, something like that, but how did you know?" you ask bewildered by his words.

"I was the kid with the blonde streak at the top of his head. Girls swooned over me, and I only had my eyes for a girl, who would smooch my bruises on knees, from falling too many times on the hard rocks near the shore." he chuckles, finally looking at you with beaming eyes full of adoration, the late realization hit you like a bolt from the heaven.

The story of you and Choi San didn't start the moment the saviour Seonghwa introduced him to you, but it started at the very beginning of the hot summer holiday, both of you were still an small mere imitaions of your parents, made of nothing, but the blank pages, who later would be neglected by your bad words and poor choices. You met him at the age of 12, he wasn’t the tallest, but he was endearing, when he walked confidently into the blazing sand, in his hands toys and a happy smile on his face. San had one desire back then, the childish one, to defeat everyone in the competiton of building the highest sand castle, and the prize was a date with the most beautiful girl on the beach, and yes you were her.

He succesfuly won the first place, after many devastating for a kid failures, but his motivation to win was more powerful, just like him today. In this young age boys grossed you out, they were noisy and disgusting, and they were talking only about games, but he was different, a little mysterious. You were under some sort of aura that managed to take your breath away even back then, when he was nothing more than a boy, who was raised by his granparents, with a stupid name "Shiber Choi", but he soon turned to be your best friend and that's how your two months teeneger crush, filled with nervewrecking adventures and deep conversation started.

"What? That was you, no fucking way, San! You were my first love, you asshole!" You flush in delight and raise on your tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his mellow cheek, putting your hand over his heart. "I love you, San." You whisper quietly into his shirt, sound muffled by the fabric and you hope he hears you, especially now, that you are held by him so tightly. He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head, fingers coming to comb through the hair at the nape of your neck.

Choi San is your first love and you hope to also be your last.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez san #choi san #choi san scenarios #choi san imagines #ateez fluff #san imagines #san scenarios #san x reader #ateez au #choi san fluff #san fluff #kpop #kpop scenarios

111 notes · View notes

kvngjoong · 4 years

Text

she was a rainbow [one - hwang hyunjin]

→ hwang hyunjin x f!you, university!au, in which hyunjin discovers that his feelings aren’t as easy to understand as he first may have thought → 5.8k+, brief smut halfway through, angst and fluff, nothing that deep

part 1 of 3

“You have a crush on her, Hyunjin,” Minho says, sitting across from him at the table in the library. The elder is responding to a string of compliments directed at you, mostly sick of hearing how amazing Hyunjin though you were. “Please can you tell her that you love her and not me.”

Hyunjin frowns. “Love her?”

“That’s what it is, right?” Minho comments.

“Love?”

“Yeah, you love her.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t think I love her. She’s just… a good friend of mine. Love? No. I can’t love someone. I’m only 21.”

“You think your age means you can’t love someone?” Minho questions.

Hyunjin doesn’t like cold winter nights.

Compared to everything else, he hates them the most, but he finds himself walking down the path with snow crunching beneath his shoes to clear his mind. He hears being at one with nature is beneficial. He hears that spending time alone is also beneficial as you can focus on what you want.

Hyunjin can’t do that, though. His mind is always filled with things he should be doing. Today he’s thinking about his parents. He works two jobs, you know, to help out with his two younger siblings. No one would know that if they took one look at him - he’s an athlete. He’s given everything on a silver platter.

He’s only in the soccer league for his university but somehow it gives everyone a quick judgement - he’s easy to dislike. He won’t lie, he knows girls look over at him in classes and it makes him smirk at the time, though he comes home lonely at the end of the day. He wonders if maybe someone will appreciate him for him, because at the moment no one really does.

No one.

And do you know how fucking much that sucks?

Hyunjin works two jobs and gets paid barely anything. He had to stick to wearing sports gear because he can’t afford anything else, he isn’t just some obnoxious athlete who wants to show off to everyone how talented he is. He hates it all. He doesn’t even believe his parents, his family, truly appreciate what he does. They don’t see him sleeping three hours a day because he has essays due and books to read.

His head hurts. He doesn’t realise how much it’s affecting him until he trips on some iced snow, sending him toppling forward and onto his hands which are burnt from how cold the snow and ice is. He stays laying in the snow for a moment, eyes burning but still managing to become glassy.

He stays there, and he cries. He lets his feelings get to him for the first time in a few months and bawls his eyes out in the middle of the night on a pavement covered in snow. He’s reached his last legs. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He hates everything here and—

“Hey.” Hyunjin freezes at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. The feminine voice makes him ponder - he doesn’t know who it belongs to. He remembers voices well, too. He blinks a few times before turning his head towards the voice. “Are you...okay?”

Hyunjin is mesmerised by your eyes for a moment. He notices the colours which are picked up but the streetlights and the moon, the way your hair falls down onto your face and how you show concern for him - a stranger. It’s polite to ask if he’s okay but he’s fallen over on the track before and never seen this look.

“Yeah,” he says softly. He clears his throat as he pushes himself up. He remains dismissive of you – he’s honestly scared that he has shown emotions to you and that you’ll use it against him.

You’re shorter than him; he feels like a giant beside you really. A protective stance falls on him for a moment as he wonders why you’re out here on your own, but falls when he’s brought back to the real world.

“You cut your head,” you tell him. You gesture towards his forehead and take a step closer, but Hyunjin steps back slowly. He brings a hand towards his head and feels the blood dripping from it, which he wipes with his finger tips. “I can help you get home if you want?”

Hyunjin feels stupid for having to rely on you, so he declines your request. He just wants to go home and sleep, really, his head is pounding and he’s close to crying again. “I’m fine.”

A thought occurs to him as he turns around. He shouldn’t leave you without saying thank you - he sounds rude and his parents would scold him for this kind of behaviour. They’d also scold him if they found out he left a girl on her own in the streets when it was late at night and so cold, too.

He forgets it, he shouldn’t fake being nice. It won’t get him anywhere. He’ll have to fake it for the rest of the night and he can’t do that. Hwang Hyunjin is over being fake and he’d rather walk away from that girl and leave her there, which is exactly what he does. He heads home with a raging headache and vision blurred. He doesn’t know if you made it home okay and he doesn’t really care too much either.

If it makes you feel any better, Hyunjin didn’t even check his forehead for the damage he’d done before collapsing onto his bed and falling straight asleep, only to wake up the next day with blood all over his pillow. Honestly, he didn’t have the money to wash it so just turned it over and ignored it, placing a plaster on the wound before rushing off to his 10am class.

His 10am class, based on international relations between America and China, doesn’t go by too easily. He still has a pounding headache and he can’t seem to get the previous night off his mind since it keeps replaying. He has too many questions - the first of which is who are you?

Being in the sports teams means he’s friends with a lot of people. He won’t act like that’s not the case, because it is - he knew too many people to keep up with. He doesn’t recall ever seeing you though, because he swears that he would remember your face.

You didn’t look new though either. You knew what you were doing out in the cold that night and you knew your way around. You knew that you could approach Hyunjin which meant you must have seen him in a sports event before, since Hyunjin isn’t the most approachable person to exist in the world. His stern look usually drives people away from him, not to him.

So Hyunjin spends the hour searching for you instead, using every means he can to just work out who you are and why you were walking on his late night/early morning path the same day he was. Privacy issues, you know?

He thinks he’s successful when he comes across a blank profile but soon realises that the gender doesn’t match, nor does the language. He goes through as many society pages he can to solidify some kind of person for you but doesn’t get anywhere with what he does. It makes him almost crazy as he puts down his phone with four minutes to spare, staring down to the professor with wide eyes as he realises the lecture was on coursework. Oh well, he’d do it with a few days to spare from the due date anyway - he has bigger problems on his mind.

Bigger problems not being the pillow that was covered in blood, nor the shift at work he has later.

He does try to forget your face for a while, and he thinks that the lecture’s done it for him when he starts to worry about what books he needs to be borrowing from the library before everyone else got their hands on them. He’s focused on a title of a book all the way from his lecture to his dorm, but the second he looks in the mirror and sees the awful looking plaster on his head he’s reminded that you saw him out there last night.

And maybe you didn’t know your way around, or know who he was.

Hyunjin goes straight back to wondering where you would have disappeared to, peeling off the plaster a little slower than he should have to feel a particular sting on his skin that made up for the dick move he pulled yesterday.

You were cute. Was that his motive? Was he so deprived of human contact that the second someone who was relatively cute spoke with him, he had to know exactly what they were doing and where they were doing, lest know who they were? Most possibly. He’s straight back on his phone as soon as he can be, forgetting the shower he planned on having and instead scrolling through SNS to try and find someone who vaguely matched your appearance.

He’s almost late for work, that’s how long he spends on his phone. He forgets to charge it too, and since he had lent his portable charger to Woojin a few weeks ago and Woojin had never given it back to him, Hyunjin was going to have to deal with going to work with 10% battery and the constant frustration that he still couldn’t find you no matter what he did.

He was mad, and the poor drive through customers could see that as much as anyone else.

Hyunjin had run all the way from his dorm to the local McDonald’s that he’d taken a job when he first started here. He arrived a minute before his shift started and went straight to his position at the first window of the drive through, grabbing the headset from the girl who was on the way out. He didn’t want to be there. Every shift he hated with a burning passion.

He still managed to give every driver a fake smile, hair pushed back under his McDonald’s cap that he also hated with a passion. As usual, he’d have people at the university come through and compliment him on his looks (only to drive away laughing for whatever reason they could find), and each time he’d see another person he recognised his grip on the card machine would only get tighter.

The only thought that kept him grounded? Well, it was you.

He ignored the complaints from his manager with a roll of his eyes, his boredom occupied by thoughts of you and your pretty face that he was slowly developing a crush on. It was easy to stare at a screen and listen to someone read out an order, even easy to blur out the sound of a middle aged man’s voice that he really didn’t care for.

The hours go slow nonetheless. By the time it reaches 10pm and the night shift people are starting to arrive, he’s wishing he had a phone to accompany his walk home. He forgot to bring a coat in his rush earlier, so the only relief he has from the bitter wind is his long sleeved shirt that smells like the kitchen grease. It’s lucky that not many people are out on a Thursday when he walks home from work. It’s dead silent on his walk back through the icy paths.

Hyunjin is careful over the patches of white on the paths this time, keeping an eye on his footsteps despite the pain in his heels and lower back. Thoughts of his bed flood his mind more than you did earlier, and his eyes start to fall shut with each step.

He’s lucky that the sound of some ice snapping brings him from his tiredness, since he looks up to make sure that whoever was cracking the ice wasn’t going to come at him with an icicle.

No, they’re not coming at him. He thought it was just him on the lit path, but his eyes fall on the one person he would have hoped to be on the path at this time. Or not. The same protectiveness fills Hyunjin’s senses at the sight of you walking down the path, no hat or scarf to keep you warm, your jacket unbuttoned and hands shoved into your pockets

He’s not seen someone that pretty since technically yesterday, but ever. A smile erupts on his face when he realises this is his opportunity to talk to you and see how you are, find out more about you. He couldn’t care for the time, nor the hairs on his arms which stand on end, he wants to talk to you and he finds a sudden surge of confidence when you look up from the ground and straight to him.

He doesn’t think you’ll recognise him, though he assumes you caught his eyes because he was the one staring at you before. You carry on walking towards him, like he does with you, and you both meet somewhat in the middle with about a metre between the two of you.

“Hey,” Hyunjin greets, smile still stuck to him though disappearing slightly with his words, “it’s me, from yesterday.”

You hum, gesturing to his forehead. “I don’t believe that you dressed that properly.”

“I put a plaster on it,” Hyunjin tells you.

“You smacked your head on ice and tried to make it better with a plaster? You’re crazy.” Hyunjin is less apprehensive when you reach forward to touch his head this time. He winces when the tips of your fingers reach the edge of the wound, though he watches your eyes intently the whole time. You roll your eyes as you take your hand away. “It’s probably infected. You know how much pain you’re gonna be in if you don’t fix it?”

Hyunjin shrugs, readjusting his cap. He pushes his slightly overgrown hair back under his cap and pulls it down slightly to hide the cut. “It’s just a cut. I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?”

“I hurt myself a lot.” Hyunjin realises his words are a little less descriptive when he sees your brows furrow. He stutters a cover for his words when you start to look a little more concerned. “I mean, I play soccer. I get hurt a lot when I play. This isn’t that bad.”

You nod at his clarification, though still seem skeptical. “Why were you out here so late last night?”

“Why were you?”

“Touche.”

Hyunjin takes your silence as a defensive mechanism. You may not know who he is after all - if you were really aware of who Hwang Hyungjin was, you’d have been asking him to listen to your stories and make him feel sorry for you so that you could post about it the next day on SNS. He takes your silence, your awkward stare down at the ground, as an opportunity to create something new.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he tells you, catching your attention from the ground again, “I like walking at night to clear my head. It makes me feel like I have less problems. Plus, I like the cold.”

Your smile is prettier than he could have imagined it to be. “You like the cold?”

“It’s refreshing. It makes me feel like… I have feelings. ‘Cause when I’m cold it reminds me that there’s a whole world around me that I tend to ignore for most of the day.”

“You sound like you need a therapist, Hyunjin.”

“Probably,” Hyunjin replies. He looks behind you, checking to see if anyone else is around. He can only see a bird or two on the grass behind you. The rest of the world isn’t paying attention to him. “Do you wanna... Do something?”

Hyunjin’s heart drops when you don’t answer immediately. Forwardness usually worked on people. He can tell but your blank expression that you were not expecting to hear him say that. He still finds some hope when you check behind you too, then turn back to him with the beginning of a smile.

Hyunjin will end up having a bit of a complex if you keep giving into him so easily. “We just met.”

“It’s cold,” he counters, “and we’re both out here for absolutely no reason. If you’re out here for the same reason as me then I imagine you want something to take your mind off things, too.”

You’re apprehensive to reply again, though this time Hyunjin’s heart beats a little quicker. You nod once, then again, stepping forward so that you’re next to him. “Sure. Let’s take our minds off things.”

Hyunjin nods, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as you look up to him. He debates linking your arm, though given you’re nothing like the girls he usually talks to, he won’t be doing that any time soon. Instead, he walks beside you at a reasonable pace, waiting for you to speak in case he makes you feel uncomfortable.

And you do, eventually. A little past the first building as you reach the gates to the main road, you start to tell him that you’re outside so that you can think, too. How you saw him fall yesterday and felt bad that you didn’t do more. That you were new to the university and wanted to explore the grounds whilst you thought through things instead of staring at a blank wall. Eventually he gets to hear what he wanted the entire time.

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

And oh is that a name Hyunjin exhausts with every opportunity that he can. He likes the way it leaves his lips, the sound it makes when he calls it across the room when he notices you from a distance. He even likes the way it looks as a contact on his phone.

He’ll stare at it for hours as he lays in bed, unsure whether he should text you or call you, or just have another look through your Instagram to see your pretty face again. He’ll find himself looking through your conversations, admiring the pictures you’ve been posting, reading through the comments on your post for longer than he used to spend wondering how much he hated himself.

He doesn’t walk the paths of the campus under the moonlight anymore, and instead he spends it with your words or your thoughts.

Hyunjin frowns. “Love her?”

“That’s what it is, right?” Minho comments.

“Love?”

“Yeah, you love her.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t think I love her. She’s just… a good friend of mine. Love? No. I can’t love someone. I’m only 21.”

“You think your age means you can’t love someone?” Minho questions. His glare is enough to indicate to Hyunjin that he’s said something wrong, so he panics as he tries to backtrack to a reasonable point in the conversation.

He knew he wasn’t in love, because as much as he would have told himself that he liked the way you looked at him and enjoyed your company, he wouldn’t be in a position to admit that you had his heart and that wasn’t going to change.

No one had his heart. Hyunjin made sure of that.

It might not have been obvious when he would spend nights with you on the couch, head in your lap, heart beating for you and only you. He would ignore the thoughts going through his head each time you smiled at him, the distant memory of Minho’s words never truly leaving his mind. Each time your skin touched his he would remember that word.

Love.

Could he love you?

No, that wasn’t right. Everyone had the ability to love someone. Hyunjin knew that.

Would he love you?

That a decision that he had to make on his own, when he was ready to. But when does anyone actually understand if they are truly ready to love someone?

Hyunjin’s biggest fear, admittedly, is that one day he’ll look at you and the feeling of wholeness will disappear. When he stares up at the ceiling at night, a flurry of possibilities meeting him, Hyunjin’s chest starts to hurt a little. He thinks that there’s a chance his question would already be answered, especially when he sits across from you and has his chin on his hand, listening to the words you sound out so carefully.

“I got invited to this thing, actually,” you tell him, sat on the corner of his kitchen counter. He looks up to you with a raised brow, urging for you to continue. “You can come, if you like?”

Hyunjin hums, placing the other slice of bread on his half completed sandwich. He picks it up and takes a bite, continuing as he chews with a hand covering his mouth. “What is it?”

“A party. You know, the kinda generic stuff. We just have to show up and talk to some people, stay if it’s okay, then leave if it’s kinda boring.”

“Sounds good,” Hyunjin tells you, feigning his enjoyment of the possibility of going to the one type of party he always tried to avoid.

He thinks that it might be easier, considering that you’re going to be there and you make things easier for him. It was easy for him to act like he was enjoying himself when you’re by his side and it’s your smile that he’s directing all his attention at. So his agreement is purely on the basis that he’ll be with you.

You’re like his favourite song.

He listens to you on repeat, finding new sounds he didn’t hear before and a twist in the lyrics that make more sense each time he hears them. He starts you again each time you come to an end to savour the way you exhilarate every one of his senses and how his nerves go into overdrive each time they’re graced with your presence. His heart matches yours, every fibre of his being tailored to fit yours perfectly.

His hands are entwined with yours, eyes full of admiration as you sing along to whatever is playing in the background. He truly forgets about everything around him. The people whispering that he’s with another girl, that he has found someone who will put up with him, that there is someone who can cope with listening to him each and every day. He doesn’t listen to them, only to you.

He smiles the pain of the words he hears away, attention flickering between how you made him feel better, and you. You made him someone different. You made him feel like Hwang Hyunjin, not soccer player Hyunjin, not athlete Hyunjin, not even employee Hyunjin. Just Hwang Hyunjin without the labels that were plastered all over him.

As you pull him into the spare bedroom of your friends place, he starts to forget everything he heard and returns just to you once more.

“You’re pretty cute, Hyunjin,” you tell him, lips pressed to the corner of his. Your hands reach for the inside of the leather jacket he was wearing, peeling it from his chest and down to his arms. He catches what you’re trying to do and helps you out, pulling off his jacket and throwing it to the side.

“Cute?” he repeats, fingers twisted in your hair. He gently pulls you back from him, eyes narrowed in response. “Only cute? I’m more than that.”

He’s so infatuated by your giggle that he lets you push him back against the door, fingers running through his own hair whilst your hips push as close to his as possible. “So fucking cute.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, reaching down to press a kiss to your lips this time. He stops just before your skin touches, revealing in the slight whine you give him in response. “And you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He wonders why he never kissed you before. His whole body is on fire with each of your little touches, and somewhere in between he manages to get his hands on the door to lock it behind him. He’d have happily continued to kiss you through the night, but he realises just after you that your bodies are both asking for something more.

You tug at his belt, fingers undoing it with ease and following with his button and zipper. Hyunjin is surprised to see you spit on your hand once your done; he hisses when your hand slips through the waistband of his boxers, taking him fully into your hand beneath the black material. You look back up to his face, studying his features for all of a second before pulling him back onto you and leaving him with too many things to concentrate on.

He did not think, in any way, shape, or form, that he would be locked in a random bedroom with you, making out with you as you jacked him off and relieved an unknown sexual desire he had in the back of his head this whole time.

“You’re big,” you mumble against his lips breaking your contact for the briefest of seconds to build up his ego that had been deflated for so long. He tries to cut off his responsive moan but you’re too aware of it. “Do you want me to get you off, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin nods rapidly. He should have told you that he’d have done anything for you to let him reciprocate it, but it slips from his mind when your hand slides down his length, your thumb flicking over his tip before you return down to his shaft. Even he was surprised how hard he was already.

But it was you, so he really should have seen it coming.

He tried his very best to be quiet but the way you made him feel was too much. It wasn’t that you were any better than others, he thought you really didn’t have that much experience anyway, it was just that it was you doing it to him. Stroking his cock up and down, telling him that it would feel good if he filled you up, asking him if next time you could use your mouth.

Hyunjin can barely move past the one occasion he’s got here, yet alone think to a next time. He’s hung up over the slight twists of your hand and effortless touches, he can feel his vision slowly turning whiter and whiter until he sees a light and he’s cumming over your hand and the inside of his boxers.

If he wasn’t living on the end of liquid confidence and so enthralled by you, he’d would never have asked you pushed you back against the door and reciprocated it, like he was meant to tell you he wanted to earlier.

His dreams would forever be flooded with the look you gave him from above, one of your legs over his shoulder as he nipped at the inside of your thighs and moved on to do the exact same to your clit. He never expected you to taste so sweet. No one else had done before.

So every time he closed his eyes he was stuck with the lock you gave him as he laid his tongue flat against you, every time he was met with radio silence he heard your moans, and he never found anything which matched your taste.

And part of him hoped it was the same for you, too.

Though he couldn’t guarantee anything. He walked home with you under the stars, arm around your shoulder, people around the completely oblivious to the world they were living in. Hyunjin can only look at you and smile, and wonder if he’s the only thought running through your head too. He’s not shy to kiss you a few more times on the way home, nor when he crawls into bed next to you and passes out from tiredness with his head on your shoulder.

His thoughts of you only get more intense when he wakes up beside you and you’re cuddled up to him like you were the one with all the love for him. His heart almost melts, though he’s forced to leave early when he remembers he has a day shift at the reception for a bridal shop in town, his other job that pays him a little better but offers worse hours for him.

Does he hope you’ll be there when he gets home? Yes.

Is he left disappointed when you text call him twenty minutes before he’s meant to be home and tell him that you had an emergency thing to attend to, but you’d probably be free later? Kinda.

Hyunjin lets it go because he believes you when you say you’ll be free later, and he believes you when you text him and tell him that instead of that evening you’ll meet him for lunch the next day. It gives him an opportunity for some planning which he hasn’t been able to do for a while.

“Do you think she’ll like them?” Hyunjin asks Minho, shoving the bouquet in his friend’s face so he has to smell it. He ignore Minho’s dirty look at carries on anyway. “I’m going to tell her that I like her.”

Minho frowns. “You haven’t told her yet?”

“I thought it was too soon.”

“You thought it was too soon?” Minho repeats, brows furrowed. He looks around the half empty library, then leans closer to Hyunjin so that he hears every word clearly. “You, my friend, are a fucking idiot.”

Hyunjin reenacts Minho’s previous look. The flowers are placed down onto the table and his lips turn downwards. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“You are going to tell her you like her when you clear do more than like her,” Minho says, “you have to be honest with her. Don’t tell her you like her when you love her.”

“I don’t.”

“Huh?”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I don’t love her. It would be impossible for me to love her. I think she’s hot, I like spending time with her, and she’s my best friend. I like her.”

“If you’re going to confess to her like that, then she’s gonna be pretty hurt.”

“I’m not going to lie to her.” Hyunjin means what he says, but not in the way he says it. “I don’t love her. It would take me more time. I want her to know how I feel now, though. I like her. I want to confess that to her.”

Because you are his favourite song, after all.

He wants everyone to know about it. He wanted everyone to see him sit you down at a table in a small cafe in town, hand you a bouquet of flowers that he picked out based on how pretty they were. He picked the yellow carnations over white, the snapdragons with their different buds of flowers, and orange roses that stood out in the store.

He can’t help but smile when your hands are pulled over your mouth, nor encourage you to show him your pretty face so he could admire you, too. He knew people were watching, especially when you walked out with your hand in his for a reason other than desire.

His honesty, however, didn’t go as far as telling you that the love he felt for you would change.

Hyunjin can’t help but spend each day at your side. Exhausting you like a trust with a purpose, making sure you understood that he liked you, not loved you, but felt towards you he felt for no others. You were who he turned to in darkness, you were who brought sunshine to rainy days and warmth to the coldest nights.

“I could stay here forever,” he’d whisper against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes with a smile. He’d push the hair back from your face, admiring you for a second longer. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

You smile and shake your head, returning his touches by running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Why would I leave you, Hyunjin?”

He can’t answer your question without a lecture, so he always chooses not to. He’d keep his thoughts to himself. Though everyone knew deep down that a guilty conscience would lead others to ask the questions they wanted answered for themselves. Why would he leave you?

Why wouldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he love you?

“Because you’re scared,” Minho says to Hyunjin, passing him a can of sprite across his kitchen table. The younger is pouting, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “You can’t tell her the truth because you’re worried what she will say.”

Hyunjin hums. Maybe Minho is right. “I want to tell her, but every time I try to my body freezes and I can’t talk. It’s like something doesn’t want me to tell her.”

“Then don’t tell her yet,” Minho suggests.

“Won’t that make things worse?”

Minho shrugs, his expertise ending. “You told me before you confessed to her that you didn’t want to lie to her, so you either do love her and you tell her, or you don’t love her and you don’t tell her. Whatever you do, there’s a reason you don’t do the opposite.”

“So I’m not just nervous?” Hyunjin asks. He looks down to the unopened text on his phone and signs. “You don’t think I love her?”

“I can’t tell you if you love her yet. You’ll know yourself when you do. Just be honest with her.”

Hyunjin isn’t lying when he tries to tell Minho that that is his problem, though Minho thinks he means the love part and goes on a rant about how everyone can love someone and time will show the true feelings behind everything.

And Hyunjin does care about you deeply, that has never ever changed.

Because you always like your favourite song. Once it’s been played over and over, and you don’t listen to it for a while, you go back to it and remember the vocals or musical quirks that attracted you to it in the first place.

But once you’ve moved on, that feeling never comes back.

His favourite song doesn’t change, he just stops listening to it after a while. He stops the admiration, the tune in his head when there’s radio silence, the thoughts of it when he closes his eyes.

It’s no longer sweet to him, and he’s no longer a slave to the thought of it. Of you.

And as he finds him walking out in the cold nights as he finds something else to occupy his mind, he realises that he could never appreciate you for who, for all you truly were.

It was never a case of would he love you.

Hyunjin could love you. He could open his heart to someone and trust that they could do the same, yet he never had it in him to even approach the topic with a clear head.

A walk down the path with the bitter wind rattling his bones, the light shining down on him as tears fell down his cheeks and froze the skin beneath, much like the ice that crunched under his feet with each step.

You filled his world with the colours that radiated from you, painting the skies blue and orange; the days yellow and punk; the nights black and purple. You made him see what was beautiful, yet he could never have seen it the way you did.

You were a rainbow in the dull world he built around him, but he was colourblind.

#hyunjin reactions #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids #she was a rainbow

292 notes · View notes

fairyshuuu · 4 years

Text

Iveracity 1| do kyungsoo

.summary. IVERACITY (noun) the act or practice of deceiving; concealment or distortion of the truth for the purpose of misleading; duplicity; fraud; lies. .word count. 30k .pirate!au | princess!au | strangers to lovers!au. .pairing. kyungsoo x female!reader .genre. fluff, romance, fantasy, smut (in part 2)

.warnings. violence, blood mentions, char/char threats (violence is not cute pals!), swearing, human trafficking mentions, drowning threats and mentions, sehun is best boy, pirate!baekhyun (not a warning but i ♡), explicit language and scenes, dom!kyungsoo, first time, unprotected sex, it starts very slow, i’m sorry!

! if you are on mobile, please try to open this post on desktop instead because it might very well crash the app, thank youu !

.author’s note. this bitch is really long, so sit down with a blanket and a cup of tea please, i don’t want you to get back or neck pain. hope you enjoy!!

🌊🌊🌊

With the bright of morn, a harmonic melody sounds just barely though the thick, stone walls, waking any stragglers from slumber. You, however, have been awake for hours already. Though your hair is pinned up with costly jewelry every which way, still a few stray strands fall into your face. “Oh please, your Highness,” you breathe, turning on your heel to follow behind the tall figure that readies to walk out the door, “it’s hardly a difficult request. I’ve been scouring the port for weeks now. I’m prepared entirely, top to bottom.”

The man sighs and sends you a small smile, while two maids slide the protectors around his lower arms into place. When all is finished, his pristine outfit all in place for the day, he turns to you. A heavy hand is rested on your shoulder, dark eyes finding yours. “Will you settle down? It’s early, Princess, and people are still sleeping.”

“The sun is up,” you huff in response, “that means ‘get to work’.” The two maids bow deeply and leave the room after that, leaving just the two of you in the smaller of dressing rooms inside the palace. When the King doesn’t say any more, you breathe out deeply. “Father, please. I promise I can do this. I’ve readied all my supplies myself, I have a guard set up and everything. Besides, I’m not as young as you hope I am anymore. If not now, I’ll never get to do anything worthwhile before I’m married off.” When your father glances at you again, you pout. “Please?”

“Y/N Clementine Panethin,” he says, a frown sliding onto his face. Your father, though he does his best to sound fed up, has always had a soft spot for you. It is why you can push it as much as you can, you’d hardly ever consider whining this way to your mother. He rubs his fingers right above his brow, smoothing away the non-existent wrinkles there as he thinks. Your father, like most of the kings and queens, is still very young. Perhaps it’s this that sets you apart from the working class. The ability to marry young, to have children while you’re still as able-bodied as you were. Well, that, and the money of course.

“Why,” he sighs then, “why is it so hard for you to just accept your role in this world?” His clothes are covered top to bottom in fine copper thread, shimmering even in the low light of the sun. If he was hunting for food, and not for fun, you’d guess the clothes impractical. But royals don’t do anything for the need of it. “And I don’t think you can complain about marriage, young lady. When I was as young as you are now, I was already married and had your sister, after all. Be glad I haven’t married you off myself already.” You huff in response, taking as deep a breath as the tight corset around your ribs allows you to.

“I’m fading away in these sad, lonely walls! Colet and Toelo don’t have to stay inside all day, why do I?”

“Because your older sister and brother are both married and are doing their ruling jobs, Princess. Until you are, you’re supposed to stay inside and learn your families craft by heart. That is your role, as the younger of the two girls,” he smiles as he says it, sensing your absolute refusal of his words as soon as he speaks them. He is, by all accounts, right of course. Women being the head of the family comes with some great advantages, ones you have no right complaining about. Still doesn’t take away the excruciating boredom though.

“I’ve learned everything I had to since I was five years old. I can read texts older than my great great grandmother, should I ever need to do so. I can paint, sing and dance.” You sigh, looking at the countless pieces of jewelry displayed on the wall next to you, and pick one of the pieces from it’s hanger. Your father bows his head smoothly for you to place it on him, securing it in his long, black hair to have the colorful stone fall between his brows. A protection charm. “But what I want more than all of that combined— is to see the world. Please, your Highness, let me. And I’ll never complain again.”

With this, your father straightens up, and pulls you into a small hug. “Alright, you little monkey. You can go.” He walks to the door and past it then, not willing to lose more precious daylight spent indoors. You trail behind, eyes wide.

“Wait, really? I’m really allowed to go?” When your father rolls his eyes at your disbelief, you jump up and give him another hug. “Oh really?! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best parent ever. I love you.” When you rush past him and toward the exit, your father laughs along with you.

“Be careful! And I want to hear from you in a dozen days at the latest.”

“Promise!” you confirm, already rushing through the shiny halls on bare feet. With the door closing behind you, you run past the many rooms of the palace, past the gardens too. After a good minute or two you finally make it to the main room, as many of your cousins and nieces get ready to eat breakfast. You don’t need to join them, not when you have a ship to board in a couple hours. Arriving to the main hall, you slow, taking a deep breath in and out. Excitement rushes through your veins.

The main hall leads straight to the wide, open world. The sky is clear, though still dim in the early quiet of the morning, colored an orange to pull in the rising sun. The big plaza in front of the palace is still devoid of people this early too. You clean and dry your feet quickly before tying your shoes and grabbing the bags prepared carefully for your departure.

The plan is to join the traveling fleet on it’s journey to your biggest trading companion. Aking, the Capital and the only home you’ve ever known, is rich with many talented artisans who often sail their goods to the land north from here. You don’t just know this of course, since a Princess doesn’t have much to trade for. You barely go outside of the city, let alone to leave the island. And you like it that way for the most part, since your country is a beautiful, thriving place.

But for as much as you’ve read, there’s one place that seems to be even prettier. Elyfhil, of the land of snow. When your older sister announced yet another trading fleet to go there, you couldn’t help yourself. You just have to see it yourself, if only once. The cold breeze travels down your spine, carrying the soft rumbling of the lively city to greet you. As if right on time, a voice clears behind you. “Where do you think you’re rushing off to so quietly, Princess?”

You straighten out, and pull a grin as you greet the new person. “Out.”

The young man’s eyebrows rise considerably, normally serious expression replaced for one of youthful wonder. “You actually got them to let you go?” Sehun is dressed in the royal guard colors, sunflower yellow and a deep blue, though he still looks about as sleep deprived as usual. For as much as the guards get switched out, a security measure of sorts, Sehun’s been there for longer than you can remember. He was one of the only people to ever volunteer, if you recall correctly. He’s been your friend ever since he entered the palace at twelve years old, wide eyed and clueless.

“Sure did,” you nod, smiling gratefully when Sehun takes the heavier bag from you to carry it himself. He’s not the little, scrawny boy he once was anymore, and it shows. “Actually, I was just about to go check the quarters for a guard willing to accompany me on a long and tiresome journey like this one. It might be hard to find someone able to travel with me. Unless you want—”

“I’ll go!” Sehun brings out before you can even finish, reaching forward to grab your second bag. “Anything to get away from the new maid girl. She’s been following me around for the entire week, I can’t do it anymore. I suppose I feel flattered, but Gods… I can hardly focus on my work this way.” You snort as he colors slightly pink.

“Yeah, you’re right. Which man would possibly enjoy the attention of a beautiful girl like her? I can’t imagine the hardship.” Sehun’s face voids when he looks at you, though you can almost read the retort in his eyes. Luckily you’re a Princess, who can’t be sworn at. “Come on, Master Sehun. We have a ride to catch.” With a swift nod, he slips into his shoes as well, and starts walking. Down the stairs and across the marketplace that unfold in the shadow of the mountain. You greet some people as they walk past, getting ready to set up store on the expanse.

When you look further down the path, Sehun has your both bags on a shoulder each, dark hair swaying left and right in the wind, much like the flowers that line the cobbled street. You speed your steps to keep up with the man, and take a deep breath of the peaceful silence of the city. Some kids dart behind the houses when they see you two approach. “Are my bags not too heavy?” you ask, turning to your friend. “We might have to leave some things behind in the stables if they are.”

Sehun laughs at that, shaking his head. His eyes crinkle into moons with that sentiment, reminding you of the many times you two played in the royal gardens when you were both a lot younger. This must be the first time you’re heading out with him though, even with all the years that have passed. “They are fine, Princess,” your friend grins, looking over his shoulder as you do your best to keep up with his long legs. As you arrive to the big, richly decorated building he pauses, putting them down next to his feet. “Now quickly go pick a horse for us both. Or your precious dream will sail off without you.”

🌊🌊🌊

The trip to the port city Aoran takes both longer and less than you expect it to. The sun is quite unforgiving while you travel, the heat of the horse beneath you only adding to it in turn. But though you ride for a couple of hours, the scenery is ever-changing and you find it to go by much quicker than hours normally do. When you finally arrive, your water and tea are almost at day’s end. The salty ocean wind comes to wish you welcome, along with the busy chatter of the city life. The streets are wider than those back home, and crawling with people left and right. You dismount your horse smoothly, not catching your robe like you watch Sehun do, as he almost levels with the ground. You do your best to keep the giggles to a minimum when he already looks entirely mortified.

As you cautiously walk into town, many eyes trail behind you. You guess you do stand out quite a bit, doused top to bottom in everything expensive. Aking is full of these sorts though, you never noticed how obvious you were until just now. The people here are used to a more toned down display of class. Long hair tied out of the way with ribbons instead of the metal pins you’re used to, and a surprising amount of pants. Weird. As you walk, Sehun stays close to your side, though his eyes are as full of curious stars as yours are, if not more. “I’m pretty sure we just follow the road down,” you mumble to him, noticing people who scurry around to get out of your path. You never really thought the Capital as rich before, but maybe now—

“I believe so too, Princess.” He cocks his head forward in gesture, towards a group of men and women further down the wide, cobbled streets that click under your shoes. “I’d say follow the fishermen, probably.” Indeed, the people have thick bundles of nets tied around their backs, and heavy ropes in hand, most likely seafolk of a sort. When they turn the corner at the end of the street, so do you. The houses here are nowhere near as tall or large as you’re used to, but they have a certain charm. Though foreign, the city carries a peacefulness, a rhythm of life that seems to bring you warmth. If you weren’t so down on time, you’d love to spend weeks here, exploring every single nook and cranny.

Soon, the sounds of chatter is replaced with that of seagulls, and of metal slamming against wood. A much rougher sound. The sun sinks ever so slowly past it’s highest point, making you swallow. After midday, the letters had informed. You just hope… “What if we missed the boat, Sehun? I can’t possibly explain my mother that I wish to try again.” You lean a bit closer to him when a vendor jumps into the street to sell some goods, reeking of wine, or maybe some cheaper drink. He doesn’t seem worried though, and trails peacefully behind you.

“I doubt there’s anything your parents wouldn’t allow you, your Highness.” He smiles as if to himself, before looking over at you. “Or is it not you whose entire collection of ancient pottery was painted over at a certain time, “by accident”? Pretty sure you didn’t even get told off, let alone punished. The King and Queen have the biggest of soft spots for you. If you blink your lashes enough, I’m certain you can do whatever you desire.” When he finishes with a giggle, you have to pause. A soft hum leaves you, because he’s right. You can hardly complain.

The fisherfolk in front turn corner again, leaving you to wonder. As you look up to follow one of the birds overhead with your eyes, you spot a tall pole sticking out above the houses. It is a little rough around the edges, with worn ropes hanging from the top and another fabric that darts softly back and forth in the wind. It takes a few seconds for you to really realize what it is, but when you do you almost swallow your tongue. “Is that the mast?” you bring out, shocked. “It’s so much taller than I thought it would be, dear Gods! How big is this damn boat?”

You rush down the last bit of road at a much swifter pace, the brown mare trotting behind you. When you round the corner, with Sehun’s displeased mumbling in the background, you stop drop dead in the middle of the street. The pier is long, and filled with hundreds of people, but that’s not what catches your attention. The wooden boat closest to you is massive, and only one of many. You could run the entire length of it and be out of breath. The national flag blows proud in the wind, wood accompanied with touches of silver, and ocean topaz that shimmers in the light of the sun. Clearly part of the royal fleet. You don’t even want to doubt how a thing of this size floats.

“Princess Y/N,” Sehun calls from behind you, having caught up. “Over here.” You have to forcefully tear your eyes away from the countless things happening to find your friend in the stir. People do their best to stay out of your way though, staring over their shoulders with whispers of ‘princess’ to their friends. You spot Sehun standing by another guard, as he motions you closer. “This is Marthe, a guard of house Sinith. He’s staying here in town until the crew return from their journey.” The boy is still quite young, with boyish features and some messy, brown hair. He gives you a deep bow, not quite catching your eyes. It too, is pinned out of his face with a silver-like pin, decorated all over with tiny, orange gems. Strange how easy it is to pick out who belongs and who doesn’t. But then again, maybe that’s the point.

“Your Majesty” the boy smiles, taking hold of Sehun’s horse as he hands it over. “My sister and her husband own that tavern, over down by the beach. We have some stables that can hold the royal mounts while you go, though. If that would convenience your Majesty, of course.” Sehun’s already taking your bags off of the horses before you can say anything, so with a small smile, you agree. He smoothly picks the reigns from your hands without touching them, and bows once again. “I’ll take good care of them,” he confirms. You don’t doubt it.

“Thank you. You’ll be rewarded graciously upon my return,” you confirm, already watching him turn away. Some voices sound from down further, with the wafts of the waves rhythmically smashing against the pier. Everything seems to move much quicker here, like the rapid flow of the ocean affects the people just as much as it affects the sand. This is their life though, the maritime trade provides everyone here with money to live. You grab a loose hold of Sehun’s garb as he travels through the people, hands occupied with your large sacks. His tall shape barely sticks out between all the others here. “Hey, Sehun?” you suddenly bring out, squeezing between two men who drag a full net over the ground. Sehun can just about catch your eyes as he looks over, and pulls a questioning face. “Was this one of my really bad ideas, you think?”

“Probably,” he laughs, “but I like it. At least you’re trying to be someone you dream of being. The Capital has enough prim and proper Princesses to marry half of them off without problems. You’re making a difference!” He points over to the ocean then, to the incoming waves that look a lot less unruly from a distance. “I haven’t heard of a single princess boarding a ship just for the fun of it, after all.” You two walk past the full length of the pier to reach the way up, as you stare all the while. People climb with ease into the ropes that span between the masts. Some people carry the last of giant boxes of merchandise down deck, while others talk joyfully between them. A boat like this, as strange as it sounds, almost has an entire life of it’s own, you think. A life where city rules don’t count nearly as much.

“Careful,” Sehun motions over to the edge of the pier as you come to a standstill, looking up now too. He stares for a second longer, before lifting his shoulders. “I think here is where my expertise stops, your Highness. You do have a way to get on board, don’t you?” You point in front of you without thinking, to the narrow piece of wood connecting the pier to the boat. It moves up and down with the motions of the wooden vehicle. “By Idite, not that! I mean, are we even allowed to be on the ship, Princess?”

“Oh, that,” you respond. Of course you thought of that, you’ve been preparing for this journey for two months now. Though, you’re not quite sure how this works. “Yes, of course, we’re allowed. I’ve sent multiple letters back and forth with the crew leader, after all. I just don’t really … know what they look like, ‘s all.” This makes your friend’s mouth drop open in disbelief, but you’re already walking up the plank before he can add any of his no-doubt entirely positive criticism. “Only one way to find out, I guess!” With wide outstretched arms you walk forth bit by bit, not willing to let the sudden movements of the waves below scare you. Another advantage of being royal born maybe, is that you have received a great swimming training, since you were a small child.

You hold your breath when the plank creaks below your feet, balance feeling entirely clunky on the narrow walkway. When you finally set foot on board, a relief seems to fill your tense body. You turn to Sehun to check on him, and motion for him to throw the bags over to you, which he does with a surprising ease. As the bags land with loud thumps beside you, you turn to take in the ship. Your entrance doesn’t seem to have gone unnoticed, however, since many of the men stare at you without blinking. “Captain!” one calls over his shoulder, as you look around. The sails of the boat are truly gigantic, most likely the largest pieces of fabric you’ve ever seen, and fall from three different masts. The wood under your feet is polished top to bottom.

Without warning, a person suddenly drops from the sky— or one of the many ropes more likely, having you stumble back in surprise. The stranger is tall and quite built, with long, copper hair that peeks out from under a large hat. The woman grins when your eyes widen in surprise, before bowing a slight bit. “Well, well, what pretty flower washed onto my ship so suddenly.” Before you can answer, she takes a gentle hold of your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, as you shoot entirely cherry red. “You’re awfully dressed up.”

When you don’t respond right away, she lets your hand drop back down under the laughter of some of the crew, and lifts an eyebrow. “Sorry to say, sugar plum, but I think you’ve walked onto the wrong ship. And I don’t like sending pretty girls away so rudely, but we have somewhere to be before sundown, so.” The woman is clearly a good bit older than you, but is dressed in the colors of your house, albeit a faded version of them because of the sun. Her skin is full and warm, and her face with big, round eyes that seem to scan you thoroughly.

As you open your lips to respond, a smooth voice comes from your right, somewhat hurried and with a hint of laughter laced between the words. “Ah, Captain, I think this is my doing.” The man greets you with a deep bow, and smiles, lips curling cutely like a feline during a nap. “You must be Princess Y/N, I’ll assume. I’m your correspondent of the last few weeks, it’s nice to finally meet you in person. Kim Jongdae, quartermaster.” He greets you in the traditional Aking way that you’re much more used to, with his knuckles pressed together against his heart and a small bow of the head, that you gratefully reincorporate. “Or first mate, for the non seafaring folk, I guess.”

He then turns your attention back to the woman to his side, and smiles widely. “This scary one is the boss of this operation, you’ll be safe in her hands. Captain Lilith, meet the Princess that will be accompanying us for our travels. Princess,” he then returns. You briefly offer the captain a deep bow, looking around. The crew that have gathered around you in a circle seem increasingly interested now. You have to wonder how many of them have ever been to the Capital before, if any. Lilith nods in understanding, before crossing her muscular arms over her chest. You’ve seen strong women before, but geez, she’s got more muscles than Sehun does. It’s kind of impressive.

“I see. Well then,” she sighs, pointing in the general direction of the cabin at the far end of the boat. “Sugar plum can stay in the free room downstairs.” She looks around at her crew then, and frowns. “What are all of you still standing here, we’ve got a ship to man! Off your feet and to your positions. This is not a evening cruise, so make it snappy, thank you very much.” With a hand on the black-haired man’s shoulder, she moves to walk away. “Jongdae, you’ll handle this?”

“Aye, Captain.” Her heavy boots make the wood creak as she walks away, disappearing out of view by the wild back and forth of her crew. You stare until the feather of her hat vanishes entirely when the door is pulled close behind her. So instead you turn your attention to the man who’s left. Jongdae is kind-looking, with bright, calculating eyes and high cheekbones, one of which has a scar down it. His hair is tied back with the same ribbons you saw the townspeople use, but he has a certain attitude that screams Capital to you. He takes you in top to bottom again now, and then smiles, the gesture warm. “I’m sorry about that. I did tell her that you’d be coming a few days ago, but in all the preparation, it must have slipped both of our minds. I’ll prepare your room as soon as we’re out of the harbor, Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, toying with your dress, “I’ve had that happen to me more times than I can count.” You turn to pick up the bags that were so graciously tossed on board earlier, and then gasp. “Oh! This is Sehun, by the way. He’s my guard for this journey. I did mention that, didn’t I?” Sehun bows politely to the quartermaster, looking about as out-of-his-element as you feel.

“You did,” the raven haired man grins, giving the other a slight bow.

“Good.” You flush a little, attempting to shake the silence between you. It’s just strange. You’ve never met people before who regard you so casually while knowing who you are. It’s either one or the other, most of the time. When you go out into the outskirts of capital, dressed in the plainest clothes you own, it’s easy to pretend that you’re one of them. Sit by the canal, watching small children rushing by on their short, stubby, little legs. When one of them tumbles and you rush forward to help, a mother thanks you genuinely. Because she wants to thank you, not because of a certain imposed obligation. Jongdae looks at you this way now too, despite knowing who you are. You swallow, and attempt a better hold on the bag when it slips down. “Is there anything I could help with?”

“Later, maybe,” he agrees, which makes a slight pride swell in your chest. At least he doesn’t think you’re entirely useless. Jongdae nods, more to himself than to you, and cleans his hands on his brown pants. You’re a bit caught off guard when you really take a look at him. His clothes are not what you expected a sailor to wear, though that might be an entirely self-centered misconception on your part. It’s just— his clothes are clean, and entirely well made too. The white blouse seems much more comfortable on a busy place like this than the tight, restrictive clothing your dressed in. Colorful glass beads are woven into some strands of his hair, and his earrings are even more intricate then yours. “I guess it’s good that our ship is as big as it is, huh. With the amount of metal you’re wearing, a smaller vessel would have gone straight to the bottom.”

You laugh a little at that, glad to rid the situation of the awkward tension as soon as possible. If you’ll be on the same ship for a few weeks, you’d rather be comfortable with the people you’re on it with. Jongdae doesn’t seem very hard to like, though. “I think you’ll be fine.” You look up to the sky again, watching as people swing around between the ropes with ease, like they’ve spent their entire lives up in the ropes. Most of them probably have. “I’ve never been on a boat this big,” you admit, “or at all, really.”

Jongdae motions to follow him as he talks, eyes smiley. “It’s not just a boat. It’s a ship, Princess. The royal fleet has some of the biggest ships in the entire world, the May Terror is no exception.” As you walk toward the cabin, you notice that the plaque above the door indeed has ‘May Terror’ engraved into it, bright in the afternoon sun. You wonder who gave it it’s name. Lilith, maybe. You walk past many of the crew, attempting to acknowledge every person you meet with a little bow of your head. “Besides,” Jongdae continues, “I guess we would be fine! Don’t Royal born’s float in water?” He turns to you with a laugh, but the question seems entirely genuine, so you raise your brows at him.

“No! Of course we don’t.” You glance behind you to check for your friend a second, before continuing. Sehun seems bright in the light of the sun, his demeanor entirely soaking in the new environment. You’re glad he likes it this much, you do too. “I don’t think there’s anything that floats in the ocean, quartermaster.”

“Actually,” Sehun brings out, long legs easily keeping up with your pace even with his wondrous looking around, “I heard the same about sailors.” Jongdae’s eyebrows raise at that. “That they float in water, you know.”

Jongdae snorts, and pushes open the back door of the cabin, leading into a dim staircase. “Well, believe me, we don’t either. After you,” he gestures. You shift your dumb, big bag to one arm, and lift your dress with the other hand as you descend, blinking against the darkness of the hall. Jongdae follows behind you, and Sehun last. The hall is narrow, the air a bit dull. The strong scent of sea is still present, but there’s also hints of candle wax and wine here, which seems to check out. Jongdae leans over you a little to point at the far door to your right, and laughs. “That’s the one. You and your guard would be sharing a room though, if that’s okay. Or, if you’re not too comfortable with that idea, he can sleep downstairs as well, where the rest of the crew is.”

You nod and make your way over, pushing down the silver handle to reveal a beautiful room, with more light than you would’ve expected. A large, round window sits in the middle of the wall, flanked on both sides by beds. The side closest to you has a large dresser, and even a mirror. “Wow,” you just breathe, making way to allow both men to enter. As you walk towards the window, a loud bell sounds from somewhere upstairs, scaring you a little.

“Ah, I’ve gotta be getting up there, we’re sailing out.” Jongdae checks around the room quickly, before nodding. “You can get settled in, your Highness. And afterwards, come find us up top, the main door will lead you straight to the office. If you have a need for anything else, we’ll get you sorted out then.” Before you can even say a proper thanks, he closes the door behind him and rushes off to help man the ship, you guess. With a little sigh, you drop the one bag on your bed, and sit down next to it. Sehun follows your lead, though he stays standing on his side of the room, with a little frown.

“Your Highness. I’ll go find myself a place downstairs, do not worry. And maybe I can get the quartermaster to apologize for the mistake as well.” He turns away to start unpacking your stuff, mumbling quietly to himself, but loud enough for you to catch it. “A guard and a Princess sleeping in the same room, ridiculous.”

You pause to think for a moment, hearing the waves rushing past at an almost timed speed, again and again. Paired with the creaking of the ship and the muffled sound of voices, sounds entirely foreign, and yet you find a joy in it. You, a Princess, on a gigantic ship called the May Terror, it’s comical at best. “Actually,” you say, “if you don’t mind, I’d rather have you here.” Sehun’s eyes are big as saucers when he turns to look over his shoulder at you. “It’s unconventional, I know, but I don’t know anyone else here, and I’d take a great comfort in having you here. Besides, it’s not like the King and Queen would even find out.”

After a long pause, your friend nods, though hesitation is still marked in his eyes. “Of course, your Highness, if that’s what you wish for.”

“It is,” you confirm, getting up to take out one of your dresses. It’s a much lighter fabric that the traditional one you’re used to wearing, which means it’s infinitely more expensive, but it doesn’t look it. Besides, it’s hot down here, the air smothering. A lighter dress would do you well. When Sehun notices your stance, he immediately looks away.

“I’m waiting outside.” With that he runs off and shuts the door behind him, while your giggle follows. Sehun should probably also change. You’re not sure if he brought anything but the bare essentials though. Maybe he could borrow from Jongdae. You lay the dress down on the bed and stare at it for a second, taking in it’s pale pink color, as well as the form-fitted silhouette. Modern craftsmanship at it’s finest. If you were to wear this inside the palace though… well— safe to say you just wouldn’t wear it in the palace. Your mom and your older sister would both have your head.

You reach behind you to loosen the tied lints of your corset, fiddling with them until they come apart, and lay it down next to you on the bed, to disrobe entirely. Despite what some people might think, you actually don’t get dressed by maids every day, so you’ve gotten quite good at taking off your clothes without wrinkling them. The intricately embroidered dress is put aside and replaced by the pretty, empire waisted dress. It’s light, made of countless layers of sheer linen and entirely too “modern” for someone of your status, but this place makes you feel daring. You slip it on quickly, and sigh because it’s gorgeous, like you expected it to be. But Gods, does it show the entirety of your ankles. You’ll just have to live with it, you suppose.

“Sehun,” you call out then, hoping that he’s still waiting in the hall, “please come help me lace up! I can’t do it on my own.” This is true, of course, you think as you situate the corset back into place, but this way you can also check the reaction of your friend before going out into the real world. If he truly thinks it too much, you might just have to suffer through the heat. Sehun enters after two swift knocks, and sighs.

“It’s really dark in that hall, they should place some candles or — something.” He trails off, before blinking a couple of times. You motion for him to lace up your support and to your luck, he does so without thinking twice about it. “I won’t say anything about it, your Highness,” he says as he pulls the piece to your usual tightness, “but if your parents would know what you’ve been up to already, and the ship has barely left the port?” He doesn’t need to continue that sentence, because you both know you’d be in massive trouble.

“But they won’t know, now will they?” You respond, relaxing when Sehun ties the lints easily. “Now, I’ll go ask Jongdae if he has something to lend that you can wear. You’ll overheat if you keep walking around in uniform like this.”

Sehun snorts, but lets you do what you want. He’s known you for long enough now to realize that you will do what you want to do, whether there is someone to stop you or not. “Let’s get up to the cabin, then,” he grins. “If I you don’t get followed around by every man on the ship, that is. You know, I thought you were going on this trip to get away from the prospect of marriage, not to gain your own harem.”

“I heard that all girls dress like this in the smaller towns, actually.” You push open the door with a huff, already walking towards the stairs. “Your lack of fashion knowledge proves that you’ve never been outside the Capital before, Master Sehun.”

“And you have?” He laughs when you send him a little glare, but follows behind at a polite distance. When you get back on deck, the wind is much more wild then it was in port. You lean over the barricade as far as you can, mouth dropping open when you look behind you. Aoran already looks tiny from here, the white of smaller sails looking like little specks in the distance. Everything looks so green from this far out. The waves of the sea smash against the sides of the ship, small drops flying up high enough to reach your face. “Have you ever seen anything that beautiful, Sehun? Look at the city.”

He nods, staring at the view much like you are. “The world is so much bigger than you realize when you’re always locked up indoors.” And right he is. You feel so small in the wake of it all. Trailing behind this first ship are two more, smaller in size but impressive nevertheless, all with the same design as this one. Not wanting to disturb anyone working on deck, you decide to follow Jongdae’s command and make your way to the main cabin as soon as possible, while Sehun decides to explore the ship further. When you knock and push open the office door, you’re surprised by how spacious the room is. The Captain is stood bent over the massive map, as Jongdae sits slouched comfortably in a chair by the window.

“Hope I’m not intervening,” you mumble softly, as the door falls into lock behind you.

Jongdae smiles, getting up to motion you over. “Not at all, princess. We’re just trying to predict what route to sail, is all.” You nod in understanding, as Lilith gives you a small smile of acknowledgement. “You said you’ve never been on a ship before, right?”

“Right.”

“Have you ever seen any other place but the Capital, your Majesty?” the Captain then asks, frown deep set on her visage, as you lift your shoulders.

“I saw Aoran for the first time a few hours ago, if that tells you anything. I mean,” you trail your finger over the map slowly, where Aking is just barely visible on it, “there’s large forests around the city, and mountains that you can walk up for days without getting to the other side. I’ve seen some of those places on outings before, briefly. But real cities, I’ve only ever read about.” The two sailors share a glance when you talk. “Not that I’m ungrateful for my position, of course. I have it much easier than most people. But that’s also partly why I wanted to join this journey. I want to be involved in my nation’s trade, I want to know who we’re trading with. Want to know what people go through, you know.”

Jongdae nods, before putting a hand on your shoulder. “I think that’s you’re doing a pretty good thing then, your Highness.” You mouth a ‘thank you’, before aiming your gaze back at the map. Lilith maps out points with a definite ease, she must have done this many, many times before after all. “Well, let me show you then,” Jongdae suddenly says, pulling you around to the other side of the table. “Our first stop will be this island. There’s a small town there called Caryon, where our food and water gets refilled for the rest of the journey. It’s the biggest of a couple islands here, as you can see. But unlike most other islands in this area, Caryon is under the nation’s control. If you have a need for anything, be sure to ask before we leave there. We’re meant to arrive around tomorrow evening, by sundown. Then we dock there until morning to resume our travels.”

“What about the other islands?” you ask, looking over at Jongdae as he easily explains. Jongdae too, looks at total ease on the ship. You wonder how long he’s been sailing for, but don’t ask. If he’s from Aking, something that seems likely considering his appearance and gesturing, something must have happened to turn him into a seafarer. People from the Capital don’t just become sea folk. Not like he is.

“What about the other islands?” he repeats.

“Well, you said, unlike the other islands, Caryon is owned by the nation. Who own the other islands?” You can barely finish your sentence or the Captain clears her throat, standing up straight. The two experienced sailors don’t say anything for a few seconds, before someone moves. Captain Lilith turns then, takes a glass and fills it to the brim with peach wine, a drink highly prized even in Aking. She offers it to you, and sighs.

“Just no-good chums, sugar plum. Don’t worry too much about them, we’re not planning to run into them anyway.” She wraps your fingers around the cup and then softly gestures you towards the door. “Why don’t you enjoy a bit of the sun and the wind, outside, ay? It’s a nice day out, and you’ll be stuck inside for too long when it starts getting cold out. Faring North tends to have that effect.” As if to confirm her words, Jongdae nods and gives you a wink.

“Captain’s right, Princess. I’ll let you know when you can help, okay? For now, you should probably experience your first boat ride from a better place than inside this dusty, old office.” With a slight pout, you nod, and bow as you head back out. The sun still hangs high in the sky, and the crew is easily bustling with a life of it’s own, laughing and talking as they do their jobs. The wind in the sails makes them bulge like reeds in the wind. As you sip your wine, you take in the view. The city that was once visible on the horizon behind now is gone, swallowed entirely by the waves, making way for an endless ocean to stretch out. It seems just as vast as the night sky, without edges to contain it on any side. You wonder if you’ll be able to count stars on the surface of the ocean when evening comes. You hope you can.

🌊🌊🌊

Your hands wrap around the cold game pieces again, tossing them onto the table with an attentive gaze. The ship bobs back and forward without purpose, as you reach to the side and watch the man in front of you work. He topples one of the bone runes, and then another. The game is kind of confusing, and you absolutely suck at it, but it’s entertaining anyway. The man across you plays easy, you can tell by the rolling of the eyes of the crew behind him. “Put that one forward,” Sehun mumbles to you, pointing at the piece with the number three. Cato, that’s what the blond in front of you is called, nods and points at the piece too.

“Good move,” he says. So you push it forward a square, and smile when Cato hands you a silver coin as a reward. “Congrats, your Highness.”

“You let me win.” Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see it in the glint in his eyes.

He shakes his head dramatically though. “I wouldn’t dare.” You don’t believe it one bit. “Well, thank you for this game, Princess. I’ll be heading back up though, my break is done.” Cato is a junior officer, in charge of the naval provisions and making sure the food is all accounted for. He’s nice, he offered you a biscuit earlier. With a bow, he stands from the table and puts on his vest. “I best take my leave before the Captain has my head on a stick.” The blond smiles at your expression. “Metaphorically, of course.”

“Or literally,” a guy laughs behind him, as you look on in surprise. “You know what they say, Cato.”

“Aye,” the other responds, placing his hat on his head.

You don’t though, and frown in question. “What do they say?”

Cato laughs off your confused frown, and rests his hands on his belt with ease. “They say that the Captain is the daughter of a giant and the ocean Goddess. I wouldn’t know though,” he smiles, “I’ve never asked her. It would make a lot of sense if you think about it.” You don’t know much about giants, but if anyone is the daughter of one, you believe it to be Lilith. And she does carry herself with the confidence you expect from a goddess’ child. “I’ll play you later, if I get the chance. And I won’t go easy on you that time.” You nod at that, laughing softly.

As you wave Cato out, the loud bell signalling your departure sounds out of the blue, the ringing rushed. It lasts a really long time. The two crewmen left in the hull look up at the sound of it, while glances are exchanged between all of you. They seem just as confused with the signal as you and Sehun are, which is much more concerning than the sound itself. Shouting seems to come from up top, ringing through the depth of the ship. The men get up and rush out the way Cato left, leaving only you and your friend left behind in the confusion.

“Uhm, what’s going on?” you question, asking no one in particular, glancing at Sehun with wide eyes. He is entirely as lost as you are, looking more like a sailor himself instead of a guard in the new clothes he borrowed. The shouting doesn’t stop, and you take this as a signal that something is wrong. “We have to go check up deck,” you say. Sehun attempts to hold you back by your dress but you’re up and through the door before he gets the chance to, rushing down the abandoned halls. The shouting gets louder and louder the higher you get, indicating your guess to be correct. Whatever is causing the ruckus is an unexpected and unwelcome one. When some of the crew scramble down the stairs in a hurry, you flatten yourself to the wall to let them pass and continue up, ignoring Sehun when he calls for you.

You get upstairs slightly disoriented, the sun bright compared to the dim inside, even though the sky colors orange and yellow. People are scuffling all around you, as you heave yourself out of the indent of the stairs and onto deck. Someone dressed entirely in black almost runs into you, choosing to push you aside instead. You frown but don’t let this stop you. As you get up from the deck you look around the tangled mess for anyone you recognize. And sure enough. Jongdae stands far behind you, sword in hand and fighting off the person that opposes him. When he spots you, his eyes widen, as he uses his free hand to motion ‘no’ over and over again. You can hardly run back to the stairs though, watching the rest of the crew storming up them, armed with swords and shields. Jongdae overpowers the other man and kicks him in the gut, before pushing him overboard with a grunt.

While you’re distracted with all of this, someone grabs for your arm, holding tight. Sehun. He says something in words so rushed you don’t get to make them out, but sounds angry without question. You point over to the stern of the ship. “Jongdae’s over there.” Sehun pushes you behind him, and makes his way over there slowly but surely, avoiding strangers that get in your way. The quartermaster runs to meet you halfway, pushing another stranger out of the way in the process, as you blink around you in confusion, clinging to your friend. “What’s going on?” you yell over the noise. Jongdae wipes some blood from his cheek with his sleeve. You don’t know if it’s his or someone else’s, and it doesn’t really seem like the time to ask. You’re so lost at the situation. Both parties drop to the floor like flies, marking the spotless deck with stains of red.

“Pirates,” Jongdae breathes, gaze dark. He takes the smaller knife out of his belt to hand it to Sehun, before hiding the both of you behind him to make his way through the invaders. It’s hard to make out who is who in the mess of it, so you just cling to Sehun as you can’t do anything but watch. People getting pushed overboard, and others getting stabbed. Your stomach drops at the sight of it. To the side of the ship, you notice, is another boat, almost identical in size. It’s not a part of the fleet though, because the entire length of it is painted entirely black, with deep red sails that seem to have been doused in blood.

Jongdae comes back around to stay by you, something you find a lot more comforting. He seems to have found the Captain in the fighting, or they at least end up in the same place together when you look over at him. The woman slashes two men across their throats at the same time, the bodies falling overboard with a well-aimed kick. They fall in between the gap of your ship and the other, but just barely. “Captain!” Jongdae yells, glancing at her in worry. “Where’s the other ships?”

“I sent them ahead! These bloodsuckers are not getting a single coin today,” she roars back. She tackles another of the men and skewers him against the deck, viciously glancing around. Whatever she is, Goddess or not, you’d be terrified if you were fighting against her. She glances over her shoulder for just long enough to make you and Sehun out in the madness, and swears. “Get those two on a ship and out of here, Quartermaster!” Jongdae refutes almost instantly, but she doesn’t back down. “We are fine! They won’t keep fighting if enough of their men are injured. If she dies however,” another person gets speared to the floor, smacking their head into the deck hard enough to knock them out, “I won’t be responsible for the start of a war! Get her off my ship!”

Jongdae slashes another person down when they charge at you, before giving in with a swear. He pushes the two of you toward the back of the ship more, grabbing a hold of you. When he turns, you notice how much blood is on his face and ruining his white blouse. Blood runs out of his nose, though it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. “Run to the back and get your stuff, as fast as you can,” he says to Sehun, who nods and runs to the back immediately. “You,” he brings out, wiping the back of his hand over his face and smearing the blood all over his cheek because of it, “run into the Captain’s cabin and get a big bag. Fill it with food, money, and flasks of water, okay? I’ll protect the door. Go quick!”

Waiting for one of the Pirates to stumble away, you nod, doing your best to keep your eyes from watering. You didn’t even know pirates were a thing, let alone that they would attack you on sight. With the way towards the cabin relatively clear, you run over there as fast as you can, and push your full weight against the heavy door to open it. The door falls closed behind you, leaving you obstructed from the fight. If something were to happen to Jongdae or Sehun or the Captain, you wouldn’t even be aware of it until you got back out there. However, you don’t have time to think about that. You grab a big bag and do exactly as Jongdae asked, tossing everything in with shaky hands. A map, the small metal thingie the captain was using to mark places, you toss all of it inside. Three flasks of water, a heavy pouch of money, and all the fruit that was cleanly displayed on the dresser to the side.

The door creaks behind you as someone attempts to open it, but falls back into lock just as fast. Tingles of adrenaline crawl all over your skin, like small needles. When you’re done, you grab the thing in both arms and hoist it up to the best of your ability, but it’s heavy. You lean it against the wall to pull open the door, screaming as a person stumbles inside when you do. The pirate has a knife in his back though, the one Sehun had. “Come on!” your friend blurts when he notices you there, pushed against the wall as your only protection. He grabs the bag from you and pulls you through the door so fast you almost fall over your own feet. Jongdae is standing by the railing, and fights off another of the pirates. How many of these guys even are there?!

You arrive out of breath and with flushed cheeks, but don’t get time to pause. Sehun tosses the bag overboard, as you watch with wide eyes. “Sehun!” you start, before noticing the much smaller boat there to catch it’s fall. The bag lands with a loud thump, but the small rowboat stays afloat. Sehun climbs onto the other side of the railing without hesitating, and lowers himself down to the boat by the thick rope that Jongdae must have tied there at some point when you were inside. The ship is high though, and the waves suddenly don’t look nearly as calming as they once did.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Sehun says, “you can do it!” You climb onto the other side of the railing with shallow breaths, and start lowering yourself down the rope by clenching it in between your legs. It gives you some nasty rope burns. Before you can side down any further, your hands lose strength and slip. You fall the rest of the way, landing onto the side of the boat and almost flipping it. “By Idite’s name,” Sehun brings out, helping you into the boat properly. Your feet are wet and your hip hurts a lot, but apart from that you’re fine, and the boat luckily is intact. Now you just stare up at the edge of the ship and wait for Jongdae’s face to appear. It doesn’t, not for a long while, to the point where you both attempt to pull yourself back up to check for him, but to no avail.

Luckily, after another minute or so, he finally appears to look over the side of the ship, and climbs down with his sword still in hand. He lands easily, but stares guiltily to the ship as the small boat bobs with the motion of the waves. “We don’t have to leave, Jongdae,” you quickly say, feeling equally guilty. “I can hide, or fight!”

“No,” he says though, putting the sword down and grabbing the paddles, as Sehun grabs the second pair. “The fact that you think that just means that we have to leave. The Captain knows what she’s doing. She’ll meet us in Caryon, by tomorrow. Sit tight, Princess.” So you do as told, and sit down. But the entire time the boys row away from the atrocity that just happened, your eyes stay on the ship. You can’t see anyone on deck anymore. You don’t dare to ask if that’s a good sign, or a bad one.

You’ve been swaying with the stubborn movement of the waves for at least an hour now, staring into the distance where the ship has vanished into the fog for ages already. It’s getting later and later, and the ocean is getting exponentially dark as time goes on. Not much more now, and you’ll be surrounded entirely by darkness. The idea that that can happen is terrifying. Aking is never entirely dark, even at night. However, that seems like the lesser of your many problems. Jongdae peers to the front intently, on his knees and looking for something, though you don’t know what. Sehun seems to have taken it onto himself to count your items, most likely to fight away the silence. He doesn’t do well in complete silence, it lets his thoughts run entirely free and in situations like this, he’s never the best at staying calm.

After a while, you get more anxious by all the things and Sehun’s twitching, and turn around in the boat to watch Jongdae instead. He glances behind to catch your eye, and smiles a bit. His face is still not entirely clean of the blood, but he did his best to wipe most of it away, or at least you think he did. It’s hard to tell in the slumber of nightfall. As if sensing your total and complete loss at the situation, he cocks his head to the front. “The waves are too strong for a rowboat of this size. We’d just be burning energy and staying in place, trying to head for the main island.” That makes sense. A while ago, he told Sehun to stop rowing after all. You offered to take his place, but it would have been no use, he’d said.

“So where are we going now then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he nods, glancing at the stars and then at the map again. You don’t know how much use a map is when you don’t have a single thing to base your position off though, just water. Jongdae doesn’t seem scared by the ocean even in a situation like this, you admire that in him. “If we have a little bit of luck on our side, we’re still heading in the right direction. And with even a bit more of said luck, we’re coming up to land any second now.” He peers out into the distance again, fingers curled tight around the paper in hand. Sehun stops his mindless counting to join in your staring. It’s hard to see because of the fog. But sure enough, very faintly, like a small curve sticking out above the horizon, you see something that you just hope is land.

“Is that it, you think?” Sehun asks, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“It can’t be anything else,” the sailor confirms, which settles your nerves. Your heart still feels heavy though. At least you’ll be reunited with the Captain and her fleet. You worry about the crew, about Cato and all the other innocent people who might have gotten hurt in the attack. How didn’t you know about this? The Captain and Jongdae did, which means that it’s happened before. How many innocent people have been attacked by pirates to get rich folk some foreign fabrics? The possibility that your parents don’t know of this is scary, but it’s even scarier to think they do. That just means they don’t care. That’s not an issue for right now though, you decide.

“Is Caryon far from the beach?” you settle on asking, “how will we get there?”

But Jongdae makes a slight noise of disagreement, before looking back at you. “This isn’t the main island, your Highness. We’re still a few hours out of reach on this little boat.” He frowns, and shakes his head. “No, this is one of the smaller islands, one we normally choose not to stop at. It is not a place you wish to stay when you work for the Royal fleet. Ayusoshil.”

You sigh, and lean forward a little, grasping the sides of the boat. “What does that mean?”

“Thief’s Bay.” Jongdae doesn’t look away from the slight bump raised above the water as he talks. Sure enough, it already seems closer than it was before.

“Charming name,” you bring out, which makes him snort.

“Very.” When you wait with shallow breaths to get even closer, you swear you can see a tiny light through the fog. It’s faint, but unmoving, and at least it’s something to base your position on. “Let’s row now,” he says, turning to face you in the boat, “we’re close.” Sehun nods and takes a hold back on the paddles, dropping your stuff back into the big bag that lays useless at the bottom of the boat. You can hear the waves raging in the distance, washing up against the islands like a vicious attack.

🌊🌊🌊

The wind is cold against your skin, biting at the exposed parts of your body with razor sharp teeth, and though Sehun shelters the most of it by walking behind you, you feel weak. The sand hurts when it hits your face too. But Jongdae walks with a reasonable pace, and an optimistic attitude. The grass is long and wet, wrapping around your ankles as you scale the hill. The light you had seen from afar had been but a mirage, but Jongdae is sure that people actually live here, and that you should be coming up on them soon. The silence is broken by the sound of a bird in the distance. When you make it to the top of the hill you’re truly exhausted from the events of the day. “I told you!” the quartermaster sighs, relief brushing his features ever so softly.

Jongdae helps you up the last step and makes way for Sehun, before pointing towards the valley that spreads out in front of your eyes. Many torches burn in the darkness, flames fighting to stay ignited against the damp air. They reveal a few houses, with one large one in the center of the town, and lights that lead a path to the other side of the island, where you guess the ships are docked. “Oh, good Gods!” Sehun whispers, “I didn’t want to say it but I was worried we’d never arrive. I’m so tired, a good warm drink and I’ll be ready to go to bed.”

Jongdae stares for a while, before slowly walking down the hill, with the two of you following behind. “I don’t know if there’s an inn we can stay at, Sehun. I don’t even know if there’s anyone here who can help us. But it’s worth a try, at least.” He walks in front of you two by a few steps, and nods. “Let’s just be careful, though. And your Highness, if anyone asks,” he swallows then, eyes too serious as they regard you, “you are not a Princess starting from now, alright?” Though you don’t understand why, you nod. It seems to be really important to him.

When you finally arrive at the town, the bottom of your dress is colored a dark pink because of the wet grass. The streets are abandoned because of the nasty weather, you guess, partly wishful thinking. The main building you spotted from a distance looks old and worn, the wooden front colorless and bulging because of the elements, with yellow stained windows that are fogged up by the cold night air. “Here’s the plan,” Jongdae says, slowing his steps underneath the overhang of one of the much smaller buildings. They looked like houses from a distance, but it seems more like an abandoned storage house when you look at it now.

“The people that come here aren’t those favored by the nation. Some are probably criminals, some are most likely fugitives or other lot of that sort. And I can’t enter there without being denied immediately or worse,” he admits, “I should have brought some neutral clothing but — we were kind of in a rush to leave. It’s also not a good idea to enter there with your money on you, unless you want to be robbed the second you set foot in that place. So Sehun will stay here and hide behind this house with our things, and I’ll stand guard out here.” The wind whistles through the cracks of the building.

Sehun drops the bag to the floor for a second then, and raises his eyebrows. “All right, but then who will go inside to ask for help?” It stays silent for a while, before Jongdae’s gaze slides over to you. Sehun immediately shakes his head though. “No, no way. You can’t make the Princess of the Capital enter into a rat’s nest like that! What if something happens? She can stay hidden behind the building instead of me.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae frowns, “with all due respect, she can’t fight. You’re a guard, you have at least some fighting training. If we lose the money to thieves, we’re as good as dead. Then we’re never leaving here, and we wouldn’t have any reason for them to not kill us on the spot.” He sighs, and turns to you. His clothes are still entirely stained with blood. It would be best if he didn’t enter, you reason. He’s right, if he were to enter he’d immediately give away in how much trouble you really are. “You’ll have to do it, your Highness. I’m sorry.” Sehun opens his mouth to cut in again, but you place a hand on his arm.

“It’s fine, Master Sehun. I can do this.” You look to the floor then, and at the one bag full of everything you own. “I can do this,” you nod to yourself, before motioning to the biggest building. “I’ll try to hurry. Stay safe out here, please.”

“You too,” your friend says, frown still digging into his features in worry.

When you walk to the door by yourself, the night seems entirely quiet. Even the wind has ceased to reach this far down the valley, instead making way for a void where only the ocean is audible. You’re so used to the sound of it you almost don’t notice it anymore. The door is thick, and heavy-looking, like a piece of driftwood that was merely attached here out of ease. When you look behind again, the two guys have already moved to hide behind the building, so you take a deep breath to calm yourself, and then push hard against the door with your shoulder. The loud buzz of the room quiets when you enter, and tens of eyes turn in your direction. The men here look unfriendly to say the least. With unshaven faces, scarred arms, and sunken eyes. They seem to gleam at your arrival, but you will yourself to be brave.

The door falls shut with a loud sigh of the wood, bending under the pressure. “Does anyone here have a ship?” you ask, looking around the room and briefly at the fire that burns wildly in the fireplace. It stays silent for a while, so you sigh, and bite your lip. “Or does anyone here have a ship, who can speak Home Tongue?” Your reading ability might be pretty great, but you’re far less equipped to speak a language you’ve never even heard before. Some men talk among each other when again no one responds. Then, with the sound of metal being dropped and some ruffling, the group of men to your right move apart to reveal one of the few tables of the place, and the person sitting at it.

“I do,” he says, voice deep and full, with a slight bit of raspiness. When his eyes move from the grain of the table to meet yours, you pause to take a deep breath, and link your hands behind your back. The man seems to radiate cold from every fiber of his body, bringing a baring panic that is laced into the color of him. Though his skin tone is far from pale, it seems icy, just like the slight curl of his lips. His eyes are dark and piercing, though he’s dressed entirely in white. The many piercings that he has are delicate, and his posture casual. But maybe the most peculiar part is his hair, since it’s so much shorter than you’ve ever seen anyone wear. It is not only weird to cut your hair in your culture, it’s almost like you’re cursing at the Gods directly. “Well?” he asks, sounding bored.

“Good,” you just respond, taking a few steps closer to him. His men come to stand behind you, closing off the entrance with their bodies. You feel entirely uncomfortable turning your back to them, but you don’t really have a choice. “Me and some friends were on a fishing trip, but it seems a storm snuck up on us and we got stranded here. We would really like to get back to Caryon by tomorrow, or people will start to worry.” You pause for a second to check his reaction. But the man barely moves, just blinking a little. “I can pay you.”

“Can you, now?” he responds, straightening up in his chair. He rests his hands on the table for a bit, before toying with the glass on the table. “So a storm caught you off guard, and now you need to get out of here?” he repeats, not looking at you while he speaks. It doesn’t look like he’s looking at anything really, rather staring through the creaky, old planks of the floor into nothing.

You squeeze your own hand out of nerves and ignore the breathing of the men behind you, too close for comfort. “Yes, Sir.”

He smiles. Wide and mischievous, it curls on his lips into a heart, making him look younger than you expect him to be. It’s a pretty smile. But despite that, it sends a shiver down your spine. Smoothly, he leans back in his chair, and props his feet up on the table. Polite. His eyes find yours for just a few seconds from under long lashes, before flicking away at his surroundings. “I’ve never seen fishers before with clothes like that. Very pretty.” It’s like he doesn’t even want to look at you, like you couldn’t pose a threat if you tried. Your gaze hasn’t left his shape once for the opposite reason. He seems volatile, flammable and if you’ve learned anything of people like this, it’s to keep close watch on them.

When he gestures vaguely in your direction, you actively have to break that rule to look down at yourself. Your corset is bedazzled all over with small, shiny crystals that shimmer in the light of the fire, with thin threads and exquisite craftsmanship. Even the dumbest of people would be able to tell it to be of value, but you take solace in the fact that there are plenty of families rich enough to afford things like this. He wouldn’t be able to track you back to the royal house with just this. “You seem like a smart girl,” he sighs, with a nonchalance and a slight tick of his jaw. The rest of his crew keep their eyes on you, increasing levels of curiosity. “How about you tell us your name, huh?”

He takes clear pleasure in the doubt you express, dark eyes gleaming with the gold light of an inferno. Like a lion, exchanging glances with his prey. As if he’s asking to be dared, wants to have a reason to light up this room and tie you to the floor with it. You’re determined not to let him though. With a small nod, you take another step forward, and place your hands on the table. “It’s Clem,” you say, voice sturdy as much as you can get it in a situation like this. You only straighten up when he looks at you again, sighing deeply. “Now, can you help us or not, Captain?”

He lifts a brow and grins again, looking over at his crew. “You seem very sure about your chances here, little girl. I assure you that I’m not normally very kind to strangers who impede on my territory, though.” He stands up from his chair then, leaning forward on the table like you had seconds before, and bringing his sword up from his belt to have the blade rest against your throat. It’s perfectly sharp, dragging lines into your soft skin every time you shake. Both from the cold and the nerves. “You have some guts to come in here all alone and demand something from me so confidently.” The breath you take is shaky against the cold metal, but you clench your teeth and do your best to fight through.

“Not confident, just desperate,” you gasp.

He now pauses, expression freezing over within seconds. Then, slowly, he drags the tip of the sword down your throat and leaves it to press under your collarbones, thin skin almost revealing blood. “Then what makes you think that I won’t kill you here, right now, and find your little friends after that. It seems to me a lot more profitable to just get rid of you all together, and still take your silver for myself.” Some of the men chuckle at that, like threatening a person is a normal part of their routine.

“You won’t,” you breathe. This seems to amuse him greatly.

“Want to bet your head on that, rich girl?”

Despite the blazing fire in the room, your body is cold, and your muscles weak. You might as well. “You won’t kill me, because if you wanted to do that, you would’ve by now.” His eyebrow twitches a little at your voice, sword becoming increasingly painful on your skin. “Now, I might not know much about you or anyone in this room, but I bet you’re all here for the same reason. You believe in rules that the world doesn’t adhere to, and you think that you can do better on your own, out here in the middle of nowhere. I believe in that too.” The room feels thick with the eyes that are aimed at you like throwing swords at your head, but you don’t dare stop. At least, as long as you’re talking he doesn’t get the chance to scare you out of it. “But if you truly feel that way and you’re willing to die for it, then don’t play around like unknowing, little children. Prove that you are better than what you’re running away from.” A long, tense pause. You don’t think anyone breathes, because the room is entirely dead quiet.

In one smooth move, the sword is away from your skin, and slid back into his belt. His heavy gaze stays on yours for a second longer, before he makes his way through the men and to the door with weighted steps. “The smart mouth can live, for right now,” he brings out, taking the white jacket that matches his other clothes and draping it over his shoulders. “Baekhyun, bring her and her foundlings to the beach in a bit. The rest of you, go man our godforsaken ship before the wind changes again.” When the door is pulled open, it carries in waves of cold, and the howling of the wind through the frame. He turns over his shoulder once to give you a one over, and tuts. “Oh, and if she opens her little trap again, you kill ‘em where they stand. Understood?”

“Ay ay, Captain,” it sounds from across the room, almost sung with amusement. The idea of talking so casually about death makes you sick to your stomach. It’s like none of them have seen death before, like they don’t believe in the concept of it. But before you can say anything else, or want to, he leaves the house and disappears into the dark night, taking most of the men with him. You stare until the door slams shut with a lot of noise, before letting out a deep breath. The place where his sword was pressed is painful when you brush your fingers over it. “So what have we here,” the same voice sounds from behind you, slipping around you too fast to keep up. When you look over your shoulder, he’s already in front of you, and turns your face to meet his with a hold on your jaw. “What a curious little fish who washed up on our beach,” he grins.

“I didn’t wash up on your beach, I washed up on the other side of the island,” you bring out, pulling your face from his hold and frowning at him. The man in front of you also has relatively short hair for a citizen of any city, with smiley features and a bright grin. He’s beautiful as well, eerily so, with silvery eyes that glint with glee. He seems to light up at your attitude, and brings his face uncomfortably close to yours while he inspects you.

“I should really stab you for that,” he brings out, voice playful, “but I quite like a bit of bite in my ladies. So you’re free to do so, for as long as I’m around. Isn’t that kind?” His back is turned to you but his gaze is over his shoulder at you, as he holds his sword in his hands behind his back. You just glare at him and don’t respond, which makes him laugh. One of the men who didn’t go with the Captain pours a bucket of sand onto the fire, effectively putting it out. The other, Baekhyun you guess, tosses him a piece of silver, and then glances back at you.

When he notices your gaze on him, his smile grows. “So, let me guess about you, little fish. I think you’re the second daughter of some sort of high ranked citizen in the Capital who sent you out, right? Your storm story is complete garbage, there were no storms anywhere near here. So the people who are with you are most likely a brother, cousin or friend who was sent with you for support, and the person who was supposed to ferry you over, right? You’re one of those librarians they sent every once in a while, right, one of those girls?” You again, don’t respond, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “I always wondered why they only send girls. My guess is they offer one to the gods every few months.” He smiles as he places the point of his sword against your lower back. “Guess you’ll find out, huh. Now walk, unless you want to get skewered.”

You walk to the door under his tight surveillance, and pull it open with both hands, goosebumps covering your every inch in the cold night air. Baekhyun hums a melody as he walks behind you, steering you towards the dirt road and out of the light that peeks through the small windows of the inn. “So what are you,” you start, staring out into the night to see of any sign that might reveal your friends, “you’re pirates, right?” Baekhyun doesn’t really respond for a bit, so you slowly start moving into the direction you came from, and wait for a sign. But as you think that, a doubt makes it’s way through you. Jongdae is still in his same uniform, unmistakably an ally of the Capital and if these men find that out, things don’t look good for his safety. You stop in the middle of the road as you think, suddenly unsure about this whole idea. You’ve got a sword pressed to your back, for the Gods’ sake.

“I guess that’s what they call us, yes,” he admits, halting when you do. You can feel his statue behind you, unwavering. What now?

“But you’re not?”

This makes him laugh, a bright, chilling sound in the silence of the abandoned island that sounds much too genuine. “Oh no, we definitely are. It just doesn’t sound very nice, does it? ‘Pirates’, like we’re out to hurt every single person in the whole wide world, murder in cold blood. Thief would be kinder, I think.” You can’t help but wonder how sane this man truly is, if he thinks being called a thief would be any better. In old tales, thieves end up with their heads being bitten off in the night. When you still don’t move, Baekhyun presses harder against the sword, urging you forward. “What are you waiting for, little fish? If you want your request fulfilled, you’ll have to move and get your friends.”

“How can I trust that you won’t kill us and take our money?” you bring out, gathering some of your dress in your both hands to step into the long grass.

“You can’t.” Baekhyun sighs deeply, and then hums again, the same tune. After a second of walking, you pause, and turn to face him. “What?” he blinks, staring at you with a teasing look. His eyes are lined with a black that makes them seem sunken in, and almost impossible to read in the darkness. This of course, is true. But you can’t help but feel that if they were planning on killing you, they would’ve done so by now, and twice over. You just hope this man is loyal enough to his Captain to follow the order of bringing you to the ship, alive. You don’t have another choice, or the Royal fleet will leave without you.

You take in a deep breath, and hold back a frown as best as you can. Here goes nothing. “I was going the wrong way, the sword held to my spine must’ve confused me.” At the raise of his eyebrows, you breathe out. “I’m sorry, it’s that way instead.” Baekhyun tilts his head to the side, before shrugging and lowering his sword entirely, a small grin crawling up to his lips, triumphant. He cocks his head to motion you to lead the way again, hands settling around his belt. The casual way in which he does it only seems to prove again that he doesn’t consider you a threat. So either he’s dumb and cocky, or he genuinely has no reason to be worried. You don’t really know which you’d prefer.

You speed your steps a bit as you return in the way you just walked, and towards the house you left your friends at. Baekhyun trails behind leisurely, the gravel crunching under his feet with each step. As you peek around the back of the house, relief fills your body. Sehun is pressed to the wall of the building, his eyes wide as he stares at your sudden appearance. Jongdae lowers his sword and smiles at you, as you let out a breath. “You’re not dead,” Sehun cleverly says, which makes you laugh.

You nod, and let your dress fall back to it’s normal length, smoothing it out with small movements. “Good news, I found us a way to Caryon. Uhm, bad news—” you say, falling silent when Baekhyun shows up beside you, face lit up with curiosity.

“Hi there.” He looks the two men up and down, before huffing a little and putting out his hand toward the sword in the other’s hand. “I’ll take that.” The frown on Jongdae’s face is clear, but he agrees with the man almost instantly. He too seems to know that in this state, he’d lose a duel, even if you have the majority here. “You look to be in seriously bad shape,” he nods in the quartermaster’s direction, taking in the blood stains and the intricate stitchings of the shirt, “and from a much more prestigious ship than a small fisher boat.” A big grin comes to kiss his lips. “You know, you’re a really bad liar,” he says, turning back to you. Jongdae’s sword is slid into his belt, as he motions his own at the three of you to guide you toward the beach. “I guess you’re lucky I worship the Goddess Manto. We’re big enthusiasts of any form of drama, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” you bring out, as you grab Sehun’s arm and trail behind the pirate, who walks backwards toward the beach. Many of the royal palace worship that same goddess, and you are sure to know that they most definitely enjoy a good bit of conflict and theater. The walk down the narrow path happens mostly in silence, with the humming of the leading man carrying through the emptiness of the valley. The island isn’t that big, it seems, because you reach the beach sooner than expected. “I’m sorry to say,” you suddenly begin, hesitating for a second when Jongdae catches your eyes, “but you seem quite casual for a pirate.”

Baekhyun laughs, ringing loud as he walks, and turns back to look at you. “How so?”

“I was under the assumption that pirates were more… ruthless, maybe.” You smile a little when Sehun squeezes your arm under his.

“Would you like me to be?” the raven-haired pirate asks, raising his eyebrows. When you shake your head ‘no’, he smiles. “We are when we need to be, I think. Captain definitely is not one for small talk like I am, I guess you would find him ‘ruthless’ more so then me, in the simple sense of the word. But he doesn’t enjoy suffering as much as I do, either.” When he faces you this time, it’s with a smile that you can only describe as dangerous, one of a person needing desperately to play games. “I like seeing a body curl into unnatural shapes with pain,” he admits. You quiet when he doesn’t say more, and look away from the pirate to glance at the busy back and forth of the indistinguishable shapes near the water edge.

The ship is about as big as you think the May Terror was, though hard to tell from this far away. People are loading large boxes up into it. As you get close enough, you can see the ship in it’s full glory. Though it doesn’t have the same glamour as the royal fleet did, there’s a definite air that surrounds it. Like the ship allows only awe to be pulled from you. The ship is made of dark wood that has grayed in the sun, and giant, white sails. Baekhyun grins as he comes to a stop, poking Jongdae with his sword. “Up, up, my seafaring friend. We’ll have to get you onto the ship without the Captain seeing, after all.”

“Why are you helping us if you’re so against the Capital?” you bring out at that, glaring when he jabs Jongdae between the shoulder blades.

“Well, because I really want to see this thing play out. Long journeys can be so terribly boring when we don’t have captives or any form of entertainment. The rest of them,” motioning at the men that walk around on deck above you, “are just following orders. And the Captain— just hope that he doesn’t find out before we load you off again. Maybe you’ll be able to run off as soon as we board, and just survive it.” With a smile he pushes Jongdae toward the plank, then Sehun and lastly you. As you walk up it, Baekhyun follows close behind, sliding his sword away. “You know… a kiss might make me consider trying harder to keep your secret from coming out, little fish.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch his smug grin, as you send him your hardest death glare. “Don’t dream of it, you sneaky, stealing— lowlife.”

“Ouch,” he pouts, “you wound me. Truly.” When you arrive on the deck, people are too busy manning the ship to really pay attention to you, though some eyes follow your group to the back of the ship. They walk around with candles and lanterns, giving just enough light to keep you from running into things. Baekhyun takes one of the candles and tosses open a door nearing the back of the cabin. “Down into there,” he points, to the dark hole that the door opens into. The ladder down is rickety, creaking under Sehun’s feet as he descends.

You follow, wanting to get away from Baekhyun though not daring to remove your eyes from him. You quickly think of the Captain, and what he might do if he finds out that Jongdae is who he is, or worse, who you are. But then the last of your trio descends and Baekhyun is leading you around in the belly of the ship, past food stocks and even past the beds of crew until you reach a little corner. There’s a small space left there, with ropes and barrels taking up most of the space. “Here we are,” Baekhyun nods, squishing you in one by one, “pleasure having you on board, and thank you for sailing the world’s grandest pirate ship. I do have to tie you up now. Don’t want you getting any ideas, of course. Oh!” He suddenly exclaims, dramatic as ever, “and I need our money.”

You pause for a bit to think, locking eyes with Jongdae and Sehun before nodding. “Alright. We’re paying you half now, and the other half when we arrive in Caryon, safe and unharmed.” When Baekhyun giggles, you swallow, and cross your arms over your chest. “I think that’s only fair, considering our situation. And I’m staying untied, also.” The black haired man cocks his head to the side with a smirk, before looking behind him and back.

“If that makes you feel any better, sure.”

Before you have to ask, Sehun reaches into the bag without taking his eyes off of the pirate, and takes a handful pieces of silver to hand him. “You can try to cheat us or steal from us before we arrive,” he mumbles, “but this is all we have. You’ll be disappointed by your win if you do.” You nod along, watching Baekhyun as he slides the money into his pocket with a smooth move. Now just to hope that he doesn’t take it all for himself. Jongdae seems to be strangely quiet, leaning against the wall with a frown on his handsome visage. Maybe he’s thinking the same you are. A pirate isn’t to be trusted.

“Alright, pretty boy, quiet down. If I wanted to steal from you, you wouldn’t have that bag anymore, or your hands, alright? I won’t keep being as civil as I’ve been if you keep accusing me.” True to his word, he ties each of your arms behind your backs, leaving one of your hands untied. You are all tied to the barrels then, as Baekhyun gives you a small bow. His grin has yet to leave his face, and you can’t help but think that this is his normal expression. With his free hand he gives you a little wave, walking back in the direction of the ladder. “Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the rats bite. I’ll see you all in the morning. Or before that, who knows.” With a loud laugh, he climbs back up to the deck, slamming the door shut. It falls into lock with a grinding, metal noise. Most likely a lock of sorts.

When the silence comes for the first time since maybe an hour ago, you slide down the side of the barrel to sit on the floor, grabbing at the bag near your feet. Sehun and Jongdae are already seated, their hands tied tight behind their backs. Poor them. You guess he didn’t feel the need to tie you up because he thinks you can’t fight, and sadly, he’s right in that assumption. Instead of dancing or singing, they should have given you fencing lessons, at least you’d be able to make yourself useful now. “I’ve just doomed all of us, haven’t I,” you breathe, looking at the both of them. Your eyes are still adjusting since Baekhyun left you behind in total darkness.

Sehun opens his mouth to answer, but settles on squeezing your arm softly instead, and rests into you a bit. It must be terrifying to him too, though he doesn’t admit it. Jongdae stays quiet for a long while, like he’s trying to sort through all his thoughts, before finally sighing deeply. “No, you did well. I’ve dealt with pirates before and I was hardly as helpful as you were. I mean, we’re tied up, but on our way to Caryon at the very least. That’s more than we had an hour ago.” Count on him to be full of optimism even in the dark, dim depths of a pirate ship.

“Jongdae?” you call again, waiting for his small hum, “what happens to you if they find out that you’re part of the royal fleet? What if Baekhyun lied, and he’s tells the Captain at this very moment or at any point during the trip? I don’t trust him.” Sehun seems troubled by this thought too. You don’t want anything to happen to him. He saved you before, and even if he didn’t, you’d want him to be okay more than anything.

A tiny smile comes to his lips, but you can tell it’s not very genuine, or self-assured. “I don’t know, Princess. Let’s just hope they don’t find out before we arrive.” When silence falls, every crack of the wood or whisper of the wind sounds loud, and you have a hard time letting go of thoughts. Despite this, the call of sleep catches up to you after a while. In the cold belly of the ship you sleep, resting against Sehun’s shoulder as you sink into a dreamless night.

🌊🌊🌊

You’re awoken by the sound of many feet on the deck above, and the faint sigh of the heavy door being pushed open. Cold, salty air blows down into the belly of the ship and fills your lungs, a much needed breath of fresh air. Sehun is already awake when you glance over at him with heavy lids, Jongdae awakening from slumber much like you. “They are coming down,” Sehun mumbles, and he’s right. Heavy boots stomp down the ladder, past the load of food and past the beds. They are coming for you guys.

“We can’t have arrived this soon already,” Jongdae mumbles, which makes your heart sink to your toes. If they’re not here to get you off their ship, then why are they?

Two men drag you up by your tied arms before you can say anything to your friends, yanking you through the rooms under loud mumbling from the other crew, as you struggle to stay upright. They don’t even allow you to climb up yourself entirely, instead dragging you up by your shoulders the last bit. You’re led to the middle of the deck, and pushed down onto your knees without a second thought, with Sehun and Jongdae following the same path. Sehun is dumped down with a harsh shove that sends him on his side, and winces when he lands onto his shoulder. You do your best to help him up with your tied hands, looking around. The waves are wild today, ship anchored in the middle of nowhere. Though the sun is out, the weather is chilly, leaving you with the hairs on your body raised.

Feet click on the wood, shoes decorated with metal that gleams in the first light of the morning. The person halts in front of you three, barely acknowledging you as humans in their own right. Dust blows into your face, but you don’t look away. The man of last night sighs with the same stone cold attitude he carried then, before squatting down and taking a hold of Sehun’s face to yank it up into view. When his stained fingers grab at your friend you clench your teeth, but hold your tongue. Now’s not the time to talk back, you know this. His dark eyes flick to yours for just a second, before he surveys the young man. After a little while, all under the judging eyes of the crew, he moves away from your friend to do the same with Jongdae.

“Tell me,” he clicks his tongue, before looking between all three of you again, “where’s the rest of your men and women?” He trails his finger over the colorful emblem on Jongdae’s shoulder as he waits, but none of you answer. Only the wind can be heard over the rushing of the ocean waves. The small emblem is that of your family, your home so far away by now, it’s yellow and blue clearly recognizable. You don’t know how they found out, but you can only guess that someone talked to the Captain. But as you look around, you don’t see Baekhyun under the men. “Is my question unclear to you?” the man in white breathes, glancing at you with a fire in his eyes, like that of the burning sun.

You curl your legs to the side to push yourself from the wood, and glare back at him. But before you can say much of anything, Jongdae pushes himself up from the deck as sits on his knees, hands still hung uncomfortably behind him. His brow buries deep into his visage, the frown proof of his fighting spirit. “What men and women do you speak of, Sir, that we are supposed to know the location of?” Before he’s able to say any more, the Captain’s leather boot connects with his face. Jongdae collapses back against the deck, head hitting with a sharp thud. He winces, blood dripping on the floor.

You stare at the scene in horror, heart dropping all the way down to toes. “Do I look like I am wanting to play games?” the Captain asks, taking out his sword to twist it in the light of the sun. The sharp metal glints playfully in the beams of morning color. Jongdae just groans, and rolls onto his back, hands trapped under his body. His nose is bleeding, and bottom lip busted because of the impact, face paled. When no one responds, the man standing above you all clicks his tongue in disapproval, and lifts Sehun’s chin with the edge of his sword. The point makes a mark under his jaw, blood dripping down his neck. He trembles, catching your eyes for a flash before looking back at the Captain. And you see the fear in his eyes.

He didn’t want this, Jongdae didn’t want this. Only you did, and look at you now. The dark, cold eyes stay aimed at your best friend’s face for a while. “Tell me. Or I’ll cut into his pretty face over and over and over, until you can’t look at him anymore without feeling terror. Same goes for that capital scum.” Though the Captain doesn’t look at you, you feel the weight of the question on you. Your lip wobbles without your control, so you pull it between your teeth to keep it at bay.

“I don’t know where —” Another sharp kick to Jongdae’s face, this time connecting with his cheekbone so hard you think you hear it crunch. Jongdae’s head falls to the side, eyes flickering with pain and you can’t hold the tears that well up. “I’m sorry, I’m trying!” you yell at the standing man, and glare at him from under your lashes. His eyes are just as cold, though now they are unflinching on yours. His full lips open to let out a sigh, as he places the sole of his shoe on Jongdae’s face. “Just stop! Stop hurting him, he has nothing to do with this,” you repeat. Sehun’s eyes bore into the side of your head when the sword comes to press into your cheek instead, but you don’t look away. Can’t look away.

“I’ll ask one more time.” His deep voice unwavering, filled with a hatred that you can barely comprehend. How can a person have so much darkness inside them towards someone they don’t know? “Why are you traveling with this rat,” he motions toward Jongdae, “and what are you doing on my fucking ship?”

The sword presses hard enough to slice open the skin of your cheek, sharply burning like a fire. You breathe in deeply, and do your best to silence the cries that well up in his throat. But before you can muster up the courage to answer him, Jongdae huffs out a strained laugh. “Don’t.” His soft eyes glide over to you, and despite the blood and blooming bruises that mark his face, he doesn’t look scared. “Let him rot in his doubt.” Everyone quiets. Where before there were soft whispers running between the crew, now there’s a thick void. You look back up to the man dressed in white, taking in his quiet form. In those cold, dark eyes brews a storm that would terrify every mortal soul.

Then, ever so slowly, a smile starts creeping up to his lips, as he meets your eyes again. “Have you ever held a sword before, little girl?” A shiver runs between your shoulder blades at the softness of his voice. Tender almost, like he’s talking to a loved one. You shake your head into a minuscule ‘no’. “A sword is an honorable weapon. It kills quick. When on sea, there’s much more horrible deaths. Starving. Disease. Drowning.” He kneels gently before you, and looks only at you with that same smile that would bring comfort in any other situation.

Right now, it looks like death itself. “I almost drowned, once. You can’t do anything but sink, holding your breath as long as you can. Longer than you ever have, until you feel like your head is going to burst. You can’t help but hold out until every single part of you quakes in pain. Your head bursting from the pressure. It’s agony. And then, when everything starts to fade, when you can’t hold out anymore, you open your mouth anyway. And it feels like hell. Filling your lungs to the brim, as you choke to death. It’s the longest, most painful death you can imagine.”

Your lips are still shaking. For the second it lasts, he seems truthful, entirely. A deep, suffocating sadness that is pulled from the deepest part of his soul, making it’s way onto his features. And it touches you, despite your anger and your fear. “That’s horrible,” you breathe. Because it is. The Captain nods, staring at you for a beat longer, and then he gets back up to his full height. Towering above you from where you sit motionless on the cold, hard floor. His voice is equally soft as he speaks again.

“Throw the rat overboard.”

A darkness overtakes you at those words, dread bubbling up from deep inside. You flinch when the crew grabs hold of Jongdae by his arms, and glance between the three men in rapid succession. Blaring fear for the new friend who only wanted to help. The Captain doesn’t move a muscle when you look at him. The quartermaster now looks scared more than you’ve ever seen him, jerking in their hold as they drag his towards the edge. He fights with all his might, but to no avail, ignoring his words. They lift him over the wooden railing, and— “Stop!” you scream, “take me instead!” Your free hand wraps around the Captain’s ankle, grabbing his attention whether he wants it or not. The crew waits, Jongdae dangling halfway over. “It’s me you want, believe me. Throw me overboard instead. Please. I’m begging you.”

Finally, a sliver of emotion crosses his face, a frown pulling his eyebrows close together. “Did you not hear what I said? That right there is the most painful death you can imagine.”

“I heard you,” you say, letting go of his leg now to wipe your hand under your eyes, glancing over your shoulder at the bloodied face of Jongdae. He looks about ready to pass out from the stress and pain that he’s been put through. So you pull up your nose, and rub your eyes with the back of your hand again, staring into the Captain’s face. “And it sounds terrifying. But I don’t want anyone else to hurt because of me.” Sehun makes a noise of disagreement, but a hand comes over his mouth to shut him up, much to his displeasure. “You want Jongdae because he is of the Royal fleet, right? But I’m the Royal blood that fleet was carrying,” you admit. Sehun’s shoulders sag.

In one smooth motion, you’re pushed backward against the deck, sword back at your neck. The Captain’s eyes glint with anger, jaw tight as he looks you straight in the eye, your cheeks still red and burning up. This is the most emotion you’ve seen cross his face yet, anger dripping from him like tar. “What are you doing on a ship?!” he grunts, teeth clenched so hard they might shatter.

You smile pitifully, the open wound on your cheek pulling with the motion. “I wanted to see the world. Just once.” The wind whistles as it blows between the creaks in the wood, ocean waves slamming against the belly of the ship again and again, as you wait. Your breathing unsteady, heart slamming painfully hard against your rib cage. The metal gleams a pretty shade of orange under the rising sun, that you choose to watch instead of looking at the man above you.

After what feels like forever, the silence is finally broken. From the back of the group of men, a voice sounds out, strangely familiar. “They’d probably pay a nice sum if we bring her back unharmed, Captain.” Baekhyun moves from between the taller, burly men to reveal his sharp face, a slight smile on his lips as he catches the recognition on your face. His raven hair is damp, curling slightly as it falls over his eyes. His steps are smooth as he walks closer, not disturbed in the slightest by the hostile posture his Captain carries. His sword is still pressed to your neck. “I’m not sure about you, but I’d rather have her weight in silver than another stain to clean, Kyungsoo.” His grin only widens as he reaches forward, hand wrapping around the blade and slowly dragging it away from you.

“You dare push me too far, Baekhyun. I’m your Captain.” The man in white only sighs, before straightening and letting the sword drop from his hands into the other man’s, not acknowledging you in the slightest.

“Aye, but you’re also my best friend. So with all due respect, Captain,” the man grins so wide at the word that you barely believe he means it at all, “let me play devil’s advocate for once. If we bring this little fish to Caryon unscathed, we’ll be richer than we are now, and isn’t that what you told me pirates do? Rob the rich, give to the poor, more of that inspirational nonsense.” He squeezes his friend’s shoulder, the other already turning his back on you and walking between the crew, who plop Jongdae back down on the deck.

“I’m the murderous, crazy one of us two. You’re the smart one.” The Captain, Kyungsoo, shakes his head at his friend’s antics, but clearly the words hit home in some way. When you let out a relieved sigh, Baekhyun grins down at you and pulls you back up to a seated position. Kyungsoo waves his hand dismissively, telling his men something that makes them spread out, as the dark haired one in front of you calls after him. “If they don’t give us a high enough price, you can still get your revenge! Drown her in a bathtub for all I care.” You’re not sure if he means it or not. It doesn’t matter, relief fills you all the same.

“Get back to work, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo responds, before disappearing into the cabin.

Baekhyun’s eyes glide from you, to Sehun, to Jongdae, all three of you slumped onto the deck from the stress. With two fingers, he brushes a loose strand away from your face. “There, there.” He stays squatted in front of you for a bit too long, staring down at you with those same gleeful, flickering eyes, like he doesn’t see the absolute terror you just went through as a bad thing. But still, he takes the flask of water you didn’t know he had, wetting a piece of fabric to press it to your cheek. Then he walks over to Jongdae, to cut loose his binds and helps him up, doing the same for Sehun. Some of the crew glance at you three while they work, but none seem surprised by Baekhyun’s behavior, which only serves to heighten your confusion.

As you stand up, you notice the sun has risen entirely above the sea now, gold and peach tones filling the sky. Your legs are shaky still, but you’re alive. And so are both men you came with. As soon as you realize this fully, you rush to embrace Sehun. His long arms come around you just as easily, breath still shaky against your cheek. He holds you for a long while, before stepping back to check your injury. You look over at Jongdae then, who has a grateful smile on his lips, holding himself up against the railing. And Baekhyun— he just stares at you and your best friend with an interest that you can only see as foreign. Like he’s watching a fascinating animal in it’s natural habitat. Still, when you catch his eyes, you bow at him. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

The man smiles, before tossing the flask towards you. You catch it, just barely. “I didn’t do it for you.” He bows back the slightest bit, before disappearing the same way Kyungsoo went. Leaving the three of you behind in confusion, as the day truly begins.

You haven’t seen Baekhyun or the Captain again, since they entered the cabin. Something you are grateful for, now that the shock has worn off. Sehun helped Jongdae back down into the belly of the ship not much after, to clean him up and settle him into rest. And while he wanted to stick close by you, you asked him to keep an eye out for Jongdae instead. He got the much shorter end of the stick after all. Now, with the sun still rising, the clean air has been abandoned by most for wine and music below deck. You run your hand over the railing as you walk the length of the ship, stilling once you get to the very front. In a couple of hours, you’ll arrive on the small island of Caryon. You hope to see some familiar faces soon, Lilith, or Cato, or anyone else.

The sea, though loud and wild earlier, has now settled into a softer shape, crashing open into millions of tiny droplets. You take a deep breath of the salty air, and lean your top half onto the wood, letting your arms dangle. Your body is tired, and muscles uncomfortable in their stretch. Your mind can’t help but wander, settling back to your home, to your father, mother, siblings. If they ever caught news of all that you’ve been through, they’d never let you set another foot outside the palace. Understandable in a way. You’re their precious gem, you know this. They would, however, protect you with everything they have. Some people, like Jongdae don’t have such luxury. For maybe the first time in years, you notice the true advantage of your position.

It reminds you of the one other time you realized it. You were still young, barely half your height now, and out with your older sister. A bright day, perfect for going for a walk, though unlike much of the kids in Aking, you had to be under tight surveillance. While walking down the stairs toward the river, a group of giggling children rushed by you, in the middle of their own game. In the mess, an even smaller girl ran straight into you, falling backwards because of the impact. She tumbled down several stairs, sitting up with a small hand pressed against her head and tears in her big eyes. But instead of helping her, your royal guard demanded an apology from the poor thing. And she did, with the most sorry expression you’d ever seen on a person.

Now, it strikes you again. Jongdae almost died in your place, and for what. You let out another sigh, before standing up. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a shape behind you, scaring you into the corner. You almost lose your balance from the shock. The Captain regards you with a blank expression, wearing a soft blue, long-sleeve shirt in place of his white jacket now. Despite the softer appearance, he still carries the same darkness on his face. At your unmoving state, he clenches his jaw a tad. When he takes a step forward, you take one back, his frown deepening. “I’ve hurt you once today, I think that’s enough.” He lifts his hands, to reveal a bottle with a murky, brown liquid. “I’m going to clean up that cut.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you snap back, almost rolling your eyes. He gave you the damned cut.

Kyungsoo just stares at you for a moment, before taking a few steps in your direction with raised hands, like you’re a rabid animal ready to strike. He has the same deep line digging between his brows every time he looks your way, only fading slightly when you cross your arms over your chest. The small jewels of your corset dig into your skin that way. “Baekhyun is helping your … friend,” he sighs, “he can’t help you right now. If you don’t clean the wound it will infect and fester.” Though you want to argue that he doesn’t care either way, you choose to look away instead. In a way, he probably does care. If you’re damaged, he might not get his money after all.

Kyungsoo steps up onto the higher ledge to stand a few feet away, and opens the bottle. A strong, alcoholic smell comes with it, making you pull up your nose. “Turn this way,” he motions. You turn your head towards the other end of the ship, as he pours some of the stuff on a rag. As a frown comes to rest on your face, he shakes his head. “This is all we have for cleaning wounds. Luckily, I don’t see a need for stitches.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have cut me at all,” you mumble, gaze on the wooden boards beneath your feet.

His eyes narrow at you as he lifts the rag to your face. “Maybe you shouldn’t be too nonchalant about my help. You’re on my ship, surrounded by my crew, under my rules.” A pause, and then he looks out from the ocean to you. “It’ll sting,” he says, as he drags the rag over your cut. It does burn like hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep from cursing something. Two good brushes of the rag before he takes it away, and walks down the ledge to go back towards the cabin. His steps rhythmic on the planks. After a second, he stops in place to turn around, and looks at you once more. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for kindness. I’m a lot of things and kind isn’t one of them.” You scoff. Yeah, you’ve noticed. It doesn’t seem to bother him. “Where was the fleet going to take you?” he questions, and for the first time the dark shadow on his face clears.

You hesitate for a second, before uncrossing your arms and swallowing. For some reason, you find it strange that he would ask. There’s barely any cities that far north, that the Royal fleet would fare to. Only a few have trading accords with the Capital. The other ones aren’t seen as important, and you barely know a thing about them. So, you answer him truthfully. “We were going to Elyfhil.” The Captain nods in response, expression barely changing. Yet, staring back at him like this, his face looks softer at the admission. “I read it’s the loveliest city in the world. Have you ever been there?”

“Born there,” he says, frown climbing back to it’s place on his features. “It’s a miserable place, really. Always cold, many old, abandoned houses, a lot of poverty and a lot of rich people abusing power.” He shakes his head though, and lifts his shoulders, as the ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth corner. “I guess someone like you wouldn’t find it miserable though. After all, you’ll never be one of the poor suckers struggling to feed their family.” The words hit your skin like a knife, leaving you with an open mouth and too little words coming out of it. “Go back indoors now, the wind is picking up.”

He walks away without waiting for your reply, as you follow his retreating shape with your eyes. You can’t even say anything in return, because to your surprise, you find yourself agreeing. You’ll never be one of the people who need help the most.

The sound of people is surprisingly loud, not only on the ship itself but from around it. There’s sound of vendors and merchants, but also children playing around the port. Sadly, you can’t see much of the small town of Caryon since the three of you are tied together around the mast and with your backs facing each other. And even if you could escape, you wouldn’t be able to get far without Sehun or Jongdae’s help. Most of the pirates went to land long ago, leaving you under the surveilling eye of a big man with a grimy beard and large hoop earrings. He doesn’t seem to speak Home Tongue, since he’s ignored every one of your pleads for water. After even more waiting in the smoldering sunlight that beams down on you without stop, people finally come back. You can only hope the Royal fleet was willing to pay off a group of pirates.

Baekhyun is the first one back on deck, with nimble movements as he hoists himself and two large bags over the wooden guardrail that protects you from the water. His dark hair messier than ever, but partly clipped back with a golden pin. He tosses the heavy looking bags to the side, before skipping over to the three of you with a smile. His dark eyes shining silver as he crouches in front of you. “Do you like my pin? I got it to match yours.” He tilts his head more into your view then, revealing the intricate details of a gold-threaded dragon that you recognize immediately. It’s yours, one you left on the ship when you had to flee. Baekhyun sees the recognition in your eyes, and giggles. “Seems like you really are from the royal fleet, huh. They sold some of your stuff but I’m guessing most of it is still on board.”

“They— no, wait, who sold you this?” you fumble, watching him stand again. The rest of the crew is already pouring back on board, carrying various crates and sacks. “Did you find the Royal fleet? Did they give you the money?” Baekhyun doesn’t answer your questions. He walks towards the cabin with a spring in his step. “What in Idite’s name…” you sigh, feeling Sehun’s fingers wrap around your hand and holding it in support.

“I’m sure they found them,” he mumbles back, his shoulder pressed to your own, “Captain Lilith wouldn’t just let us sit here. Right, Jongdae?” There’s a non-committal sound from the quartermaster. “As soon as she hears word of your being on the ship, she’ll come and get you, Princess. Have no worry.” Though his comforting words help to calm your heart, there’s part of you that doubts this notion. After all, any pirate could say they have someone of value on board. Who would believe a bunch of thieves without a shred of proof?

Not much later, the Captain comes on board too, hopping over the railing easily. He straightens his jacket, before giving an order to the men behind him. You’re too far away to hear. After a second, his eyes meet yours though, deep orbs scanning you up and down a few times. It sends an uncomfortable feeling to your stomach, you don’t enjoy being viewed as cargo. He grabs the shoulder of one of the pirates, and cocks his head towards the three of you. “We’re sailing back out, so get into the nest. When we’re about an hour out, you can let them out of their binds. They won’t be able to run elsewhere.”

When he turns to walk away, most likely to steer the ship, you lean forward and clear your throat. “Captain Kyungsoo!” Several of the men turn to look at you, but don’t say anything. “Could we get some water, please? We’ve been sitting in the sun for hours.” When he turns to look at you, he lifts an eyebrow, before clicking his tongue in disapproval. His hands come to rest at his belt, where the sharp sword that was pressed to your throat just this morning still hangs easily, next to two smaller knives.

“Any requests can go to Baekhyun,” he sighs, sounding most fed up you’ve ever heard him. You want to ask about the fate of you and your friends, but judging his expression, now is not the best of times to ask. “He’s been put in charge of your well-being.” Said man comes from around the corner with a grin that makes his cheeks cutely round, already waving a water bottle back and forth nonchalantly. Kyungsoo whispers him something as they cross, but doesn’t acknowledge you any further. He merely shakes his head, and walks toward the helm, to steer the ship without having to see you three. You huff when he disappears, and watch the last of the men pull the anchor of the ship up. Four of them, straining to get the giant metal onto deck. Baekhyun hums as he approaches, pressing the bottle against Sehun’s lips and pouring without thinking twice.

Half of the water runs down the sides of his mouth and almost in his nose, but the pirate clearly doesn’t care. “Drink up, buttercup!” he grins, waddling to Jongdae next. The man has been mostly quiet since you’ve arrived on Caryon. It doesn’t sit well. Jongdae, out of you three, has been the most optimistic the entire trip. Even when you were floating out in the middle of nowhere, he had a smile on his lips and a spring in his step that brought you an immense feeling of calm, despite the hopeless situation. You can only guess what’s going on in his head. When the quartermaster has had his fill, Baekhyun settles in front of you, and motions at you to open your mouth.

The water is cool, even when it slips down your lips and drops from your chin. Two gulps, and then the bottle is pulled away. Though you glare at him from under your lashes, Baekhyun beams down at you with a smile. You still can’t get over the strange feeling you have around him, even with the kindness he’s shown you. There’s just something— that feels off about him. “What is happening now, Baekhyun?” you ask. You can feel the ship moving again, the sails curved into half moons in the wind. “You didn’t find the Royal fleet, did you?”

At the very last, the artificial grin slips off, revealing for the first time ever a slight frown on his handsome face. It stays silent for a long while, before Baekhyun leans a bit closer, face uncomfortably close to yours. He truly must not understand what personal space is. “You didn’t tell me you got attacked by pirates before. I thought we were friends, and friends tell each other things.” Holding your tongue for a moment, you look at him. His eyes are tense, lips set into a straight line, like whatever he found out genuinely bothers him and for this moment only do you truly feel for him. But then he leans back and cocks his head, smiling. The chance is instant, if you had blinked you would’ve missed it. “There’s no problem, little fish. Just a change of plans.”

You frown, but nod. “Well, I would have told you, but I thought whoever attacked us must have been part of your men. I take it that assumption is wrong?”

Baekhyun grins, before tapping his hand softly against your injured cheek, ignoring your wince entirely. “You do have some brains in that pretty head of yours, after all. A bad liar, but not useless.” He jumps back to his feet to put the bottle into a bunched stack of thick ropes, and then stretches out. “You’ll all be staying with us for a bit longer. You see, the Captain has decided that he really wants that coin you’ll make us, so I’m not allowed to play with any of you. But it seems the Royal fleet has been split up. One of the ships was taken by the Red Skulls, and they are on their merry way to capture the other two as well. With on board, our money. So you see how this becomes a problem for us. If the Red Skulls take the fleet before we can, there won’t be anyone left to pay us off.”

“How do you know all this?” Sehun asks, unable to look at Baekhyun but listening intently nevertheless.

The raven-haired pirate just shrugs. “I have charms, getting people to talk isn’t hard.”

For the first time in a few hours, you finally hear Jongdae’s voice as well. “Did they say anything about the crew?” But Baekhyun doesn’t answer, which is the most telling answer of all. His lips purse though, and he turns away from you to look out at the no doubts vanishing island, as if he doesn’t want to face the disappointment in Jongdae’s eyes. All you can do is touch your fingertips to the man’s bound hands, unsure of what to say. When Baekhyun turns back to you, he lets out a deep breath, and rubs his black-stained hands under his eyes.

“They have a few hours on us, but our ship is much faster. We’re going to take that ship before it can get to Elyfhil.”

“And what about us,” you question, running it over in your head. If they can take back the ship with that much ease, surely, they don’t need to deliver you back to get the money they so eagerly ache for. If anything, I’d be easier to just get rid of you all together, and take the remaining ships as well. Baekhyun takes out his sword as you talk, planting it into the wood between your feet. “The way I see it you have no good reason to keep us around. You’re going to get your money, you’re going to get your revenge. You’ll probably even get to stab a few guys along the way.”

He chuckles, before leaning forward onto the sword to look straight into your eyes. “Aye, but you forgot to tell us some really important things before, didn’t you? The first ships of the royal fleet, those that weren’t taken yet? They were looking for something more valuable than coin.” His eyes glint knowingly, the same dangerous smile curving onto his face like a shadow. “They were looking for a lost guard, and the Queen’s daughter. Now what are the odds of that?”

“You think I’m the Queen’s daughter?” you scoff.

“No, little fish,” Baekhyun shakes his head the tiniest bit, before answering, “we know you are.”

🌊🌊🌊

It’s been a day. A whole day, you’ve been locked up in the small wine storage they cleared out as a cell. You’ve burned through six candles, since the tiny window that sits right below the ceiling is constantly blocked by water gushing past. At least you’re able to use your hands again, and look your friends in the eye. This has given you plenty of time to think, too. Something limited only slightly by the alcoholic fumes you’ve been breathing in. Sehun sits slumped against the wall across from you. “We could try and pry loose one of these boards, and jam it into the keyhole to open the door. Then, we sneak past the crew once they are asleep, and we knock out the captain. Then we either sail straight ahead towards the city, or we turn us back around to Caryon. Either would work, really.”

You snort, unable to help it. His ideas have been getting more and more ridiculous by the minute. “You almost lost your finger pushing it into the lock earlier, Master Sehun. I think we’ve all seen enough of that for the rest of our trip.” Jongdae is stood against the wall next to you, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes the sharpest of all of you yet. You guess he’s more used to the wine than you are. His lip is still swollen, cut right through the middle and looking very painful. “And even if we got out of this room, we’re still on the ship with a couple dozen pirates who won’t hesitate to stab us.”

“Stab me and Jongdae, you mean. They are not going to stab a Princess.”

You stretch out your leg to deliver a tap to his shin, your friend jumping out of the way with a smile. At least someone’s still seeing the fun in all this. You shake your head at him, and sigh. “What happens to you, will happen to me as well. I’m not letting any of you get hurt in my stead. Not again.” It’s strange to think that less than a week ago, you were still in the innocent belief that this would be a fun experience. Jongdae’s hand is soft on your arm, his smile strained against his injury but genuine all the same. You wave him off, when he mouths a ‘thank you’. “We’re not going to escape here any time soon, is all I’m saying,” you finish, pressing your back against the coarse wood behind you.

It stays silent for a bit, before Jongdae clears his throat. “Actually, that isn’t that bad of an idea.” Your eyes are wide when you glance at him over your shoulder, and see that he means it. Never mind, Jongdae doesn’t handle wine well at all. He’s gone completely crazy. When you laugh, the quartermaster takes hold of your hand. “No, listen, Princess! We could take the ship from the inside out!”

“How in the Gods’ names would we do that?!” you respond, glancing between the two clearly irrational men that are locked in this shed with you.

“Well, Baekhyun is right. They know who you are, they know they are right and how much the Capital can pay to have you back unharmed. Meaning, you’re relatively safe around them, even though they don’t look at all like the caring types.” Jongdae speaks with so much conviction, that you almost believe him. “Second, and please excuse my crudeness, your Highness; but you’re an desirable young girl, if anyone can get close to the Captain, it’s you.”

You just blink at him. “You’ve gone insane, Jongdae. Truly!”

“I hate to be against your judgement, Princess Y/N, but I think the Quartermaster is right.” Your disbelieving gaze snaps to your best friend at that, mouth dropping open. He cannot be serious. “You’re the only girl on a ship full of men, and you cannot be harmed under their care. That is the perfect moment to use your womanly charm, and enchant the Captain into your trust.”

Jongdae nods. “If he trusts you enough, maybe you’ll be able to enter the cabin. You can steal the key, and then when night comes, we can sneak out and lock the men beneath deck. I can take the wheel from there, and we’d only have to deal with the captain, which is us three against one.” He runs his hands through his hair, and nods. The faith they have in your abilities would be a compliment, if not for the fact that Captain Kyungsoo scares you more than a tad. “It’s quite a good plan, your Highness. But we need you to be willing, of course.”

“That is, assuming the Captain wants to be charmed at all! I don’t know if you’ve yet noticed, but he’s not the most jolly of individuals,” you argue, with wild, frustrated hand movements. “Let’s just assume that he did, in fact, have an interest in me past the monetary value he sees me as, then I have to convince him to let me into the cabin without him, and steal a key that I don’t know what it looks like. And then what?! Say we do get to Elyfhil without any further issues, what do we do with them then?” Sehun seems entirely too amused by your worry, so you take off your shoe to toss it at him, only missing his face by a hair. Jongdae, for the first time in a while, smiles as well.

“We have a few weeks to figure it out,” Sehun grins, giddy at the idea and all you can do is glare at him in response. “This is pretty much the only plan we have, Princess. But fear not, for I have faith in your abilities.” Stupid boys. Stupid, idiotic boys with their stupid plans.

When night falls, your head falls into an tired rest on Jongdae’s shoulder, with the last flickering light of the candle dimming into darkness. The wood creaks around you, ship waving back and forth smoothly on the face of the sea. Your lids are so heavy, and soon you’re falling into an unsteady sleep.

The sea is calm, smooth like a mirror to the sky, as the ship cuts through it. The water reflects yellows and soft pinks, cold filling your lungs as you wait. The figure stands at the very front of the ship, looking out over the sea with gentle, rhythmic breaths. Calm. ‘Captain Kyungsoo?’ you breathe at the shape, watching him as he turns over his shoulder to look at you. Face dusted a soft pink, he smiles. A kind smile, one that fills you with joy and you can’t help but return the gesture a tenfold. ‘There you are, I was waiting for you for a long time,’ he says, motioning you up onto the ledge. You do, feel his hand in yours as support, while he leads you to stand in front of him. His sturdy figure close to yours, pointing out at the sea. ‘A bit further and we’ll arrive at the shore. Just past the fog you see there, there’s trees as tall as giants, white beaches with sand finer than the finest thread. Woods, for miles and miles. You’ve always wanted to see it, haven’t you?’ Your nod is gentle, but genuine. You have. He rests his chin on your shoulder then, breath brushing over your exposed skin. ‘I wish we could see it together. I wish you could explore it all, with me.’ ‘But we can’t. Can we, Princess?’ You can’t move. You want to turn to look at him, you really do, but you can’t move. Unable to move a single muscle. Unable to speak. You can only watch the undisturbed ocean, and feel the soft brush of his hand against your fingers. ‘We can’t, because you lied to me. You’ve been lying to me the whole time, and now everything is ruined. Did I deserve it? Did I deserve to be a pawn in your royal game?’ ‘Y/N?’

“Y/N.”

A hand wraps around your wrist, shaking you up and awake at once, eyes wide. Small beads of sweat gather at your hairline, your cheeks glowy, bright red. “Wake up, Princess,” Sehun breathes, his large hand still gently wrapped around your arm. You blink a few times, before pushing yourself up from the uncomfortable position you’re sat in. “You’re glowing.” You look around to see the same small space, though the door is open, and Jongdae is nowhere to be seen.

“Where are we?” you breathe, rubbing your warm hands over your cheeks in circles. They are very hot indeed.

Sehun lets go of you once your stable on your feet, and smiles. “Still aboard the ship, Princess. But we’ve been allowed out, we’re too far away from land to escape, it seems. I think you need some fresh air, you were overheating in here.” You nod, and swallow. Your throat is dry, tongue sponge-like. Your friend watches you intently, before lifting his brows. “Are you okay? You look out of it.”

“I’m fine, Master Sehun,” you respond, peeking out of the door into the dark belly of the ship. You need some fresh air. As you walk, the tall man follows close behind. That must have been a dream. It can’t have been anything but a dream, yet it felt so real. Your breathing is still strained, only evening out once you get out of the confined space of the ship. The ship creaks loudly, under the busy movement of the crew. Jongdae is sitting on the railing further up, letting his legs dangle. He looks so casual, despite the worried expression he carries. You feel his worry. Sehun’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder after a second, where he returns with a cup, ordering you to drink with the most gentle voice anyone has ever given an order.

You sigh when you catch his eyes. “Listen, Hun… I know that you’re putting all your hope on this plan,” you lean a bit closer to say the last word, “but I have a really bad feeling about it. As in, I don’t think we should go through with it.” Your friend doesn’t try to hide his surprise, mouth dropping open slightly. “I know that we should try— but I don’t think I can. I’m hardly as charming as you seem to believe I am, I’m stubborn and a little bit too snappy for my own good sometimes. I can’t… make a random man suddenly like me. He’ll see right through it!”

The dark haired man bites his lip in thought. “I don’t think he will, Princess. After all, he did clean your cut out of his own volition, did he not?” You let out a tense breath, and pout up at him, making Sehun’s face flood with a certain joy. You should both know that he only did that not to carry damaged goods aboard. Sehun seems to purposefully ignore that part. “If you really don’t want to, then don’t. But you know as well as we do that there’s nothing more we can plan. We’re outnumbered by a tenfold. The only way to get anywhere is to gain a bit of their trust or even respect.”

“And what if I don’t think they deserve to be lied to so?” you bring out, wringing your hands together in the soft, pink fabric of your dress. There’s no other clothes aboard, so you’ve been in the same dress for days.

At this your friend just stares at you, disbelief in his eyes. “They are pirates, Princess!”

“I know, I know that,” you sigh, “I know that I’m looking too much into it but…”

Before your friend can say anything in response, a shout comes from behind you. “Little fish!” the voice beams, bright and too loud for even your sunny disposition. Sehun just lifts his shoulders, as confused as you are when you turn. Baekhyun’s bright features cut through the bustle easily. “Come over here, please.” He waves you over with a happy grin, and places his hands on his hips. “Or Princess Little fish, I should say!” You huff out a tense breath, but walk over, and tilt your head at him in question.

“What do you want?” you say.

Your defiance delights him endlessly, every time. You can see it in the way his cheeks seem to get even wider, if possible. “Don’t be rude now.” You glare at him in return. “You’re all worked up I see,” he beams, and takes your hand smoothly in his own to lead you around, “but I’ll get you even more worked up! Captain has sent me to get your pretty self to join us for lunch. He worries about your well-being every second! Isn’t he the kindest?” You can only imagine the tiniest truth hidden behind his words, and decide to ignore the rest. This man really knows how to get under someone’s skin like a rash. You pull your hand from his, but walk alongside him.

“What’s the purpose behind this sudden lunch invitation if I may ask?”

A playful hum comes from him, as he pinches your side. “No reason~” Baekhyun sings, only adding more fuel to your worry. As you near the door, you sigh, glancing back at Sehun just once. You can’t deny that the setup to the plan is being handed to you on a silver platter at this very moment. Your friend gives you a tense smile, and puts up his thumbs toward you. Though it frustrates you beyond belief, you know as well as your two friends that any other means of escaping will be as good as impossible. You’re more than a week away from your destination. You tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear when Baekhyun leans around you to open the door, and swallow your hesitance. You can at least give it a try.

The silence that lingers in the room between each sentence is deafeningly uncomfortable. You lay your hands next to your plate, and drum your nails on the smooth wood of the table. It’s a miracle that this ship even floats, with the amount of heavily decorative furniture occupy the cabin. You’re sat across from the Captain, whose seat remains empty for now, while Baekhyun sits at the head of the table. “Would you like some water?” the deep voice calls from across the room, broad back facing you.

You don’t respond, unsure of what to say. After all, what could he possibly want from you that requires lunch to precede it? You will yourself to remember that these men, however charming, are still pirates. Pillagers, murderers, thieves. They take what they want, when they want it. The only reason you’re still alive is because they have a use for you. You have to remember that. The Captain glances back at you with a frown, and places a glass of water in front of you anyway, mouth corners turned down. “I’m not usually this attentive to my captives,” he mumbles, as he takes his seat across yours. “Your pride is going to give out before I start caring, so drink while you still get to.”

“Maybe I won’t drink anymore for this entire journey,” you bite back, unable to help it. You don’t understand this man, and it frustrates you to no end. He invites you to lunch, but threatens you basically the second you’re in his presence, and calls you his captive. “Then I will die of sickness and you won’t get any riches at all.” The darkness on his face flickers like a flame over his gaze, playful but unwavering, though his frown grows deeper if possible.

“Then die, Princess.” He takes a drink from his own glass, before slumping back in the plush of the chair. “If that is the way your Highness chooses to go, by all means, be my guest.” Your jaw stays locked hard together, eyes on his expression. But he’s not looking at you anymore, like the sight of you disgusts him. His handsome face aimed solely at the table, or the wall behind you, but not on your face. You almost wish he’d at least have the guts to stare you in the eye when he talks to you, but in truth, that might just anger you further. “You speak of your life so easily, like you’d be willing to give it up for anything and anyone.”

“I would,” you say, full in this notion. You don’t feel the need to lie, since your truth is much more to you than just a way you were raised. You believe in it, fully and from the bottom of your heart. Not that he’d understand, you think, watching the nonchalant way he twirls the small knife between his fingers. Baekhyun, meanwhile, has been the most quiet you’ve ever seen him. Your bottom lip juts out a bit as you continue. “It’s my duty to protect my people, and I take that role very seriously.”

At this the Captain scoffs, loudly, grinning at the ceiling in disbelief. For two full heartbeats, it stays quiet, and you can feel the anger in your body bubbling over. Forget charming this man, maybe you’ll just launch over the table and strangle him instead. But when he finally looks at you again, you don’t see the gloating expression you’re expecting. Instead, there’s a distinct sadness that settles in his features, brushed gently over his face. The face of sorrow, and loss. “Have you ever even seen death before, Princess? Sickness? Excruciating hunger and pain?” He shakes his head at you. “Because if you are willing to give your life so easily, I don’t believe you have.”

The tenseness of your body ebbs out with the long breath you let out. “Then don’t believe it. I have. Not me, and not my close relatives. Because I was as fortunate as to be born into a position of power and money.” He doesn’t respond. But your lips shake slightly as you continue. “But I think I’ve seen more death than you have, Captain. Whenever I can, I sneak out of the palace to visit the temples, and after that the doctor houses. Orphanages. I see people pray to every God they know of to heal their family members. I watch them wither away as I hold their hand, cold in their beds. I read stories to those poor children who’ve lost everything and it’s true… I am healthy, because I get fed every day, and because I can pay the best medics.” You swallow, removing your eyes from his to stare into your glass. “But do you think I don’t feel it? I am the only one standing tall between people who see death as a constant. People put their faith in me, their hope, their dreams, they give them all to me because I was born a princess and yet, I can’t do a single thing to save them!

“So yes, I want to give my life for the people I care about, because that is the only thing I can do to help,” you say, clenching your trembling hands in your dress. “I’m not sorry for giving my one life away for the values I believe in. At least I don’t kill for enjoyment.” You’re not sure what the man is thinking, but you’ve had about enough, and lunch hasn’t even started yet. You push your chair back and stand, ready to walk out of here. Tell your friends that you’d just have to sit it out. You and the Captain are just too different, there’s no way you’d ever get along. But then fingers wrap around your arm, pulling you back, and your feet falter as if automatic. Baekhyun’s grip on you is tight, long fingers locked around your wrist.

“Stay,” he says, face void of the familiar grin you’ve learned to anticipate on him, and it makes you hesitate. “Kyungsoo is not a man of many words. He doesn’t talk much, and when he does, it often comes out too harsh. But we might all have some things in common, Princess.” His eyes are clear on yours, mouth pulled in a soft line. “So sit back down, please.” You huff, but do so, not looking across the table again. One of the men soon enters with a pot of soup, and places it on the table. You all eat in silence, something you’re not used to, but at this moment you’re glad for the bit of peace. When Baekhyun finishes his plate in record speed, the Captain sends him a look.

“Baekhyun, would you please check up on our other two guests for a moment?” The other nods, and leaves the room without another word. You wonder which of the two really wanted this lunch. From the way Baekhyun held your arm, it seems to suggest… but then why? The Captain pauses for a moment, before linking his hands together on the table. “I trust that Baekhyun has been looking out for your well-being sufficiently?”

You bite your bottom lip, but nod. “He has been trying his hardest, I think.” The Captain agrees wordlessly, and chooses to watch you instead. His sharp, calculating gaze is entirely distracting. You play with your cutlery for a moment, but are unable to keep quiet anymore. “Whatever the reason for this dinner, I don’t think I—”

“I wanted to apologize for my impertinence toward you throughout this trip,” the Captain cuts in, his strong voice filling the cabin easily. Definitely now it’s just the two of you, it seems to tremble through the fibers of the wood.

“Do— w-wait, what?” you stutter, eyes wide, “Apologize?”

“Yes.” His handsome face is aimed solely on you yet again, and this time, your cheeks heat under his gaze. You’re absolutely confused now. Kyungsoo tilts his head a bit when you don’t immediately respond, and continues. “I was harsh in my punishment, and I’ve come to understand you’ve been quite polite towards me for it in return. I wanted to…” he pauses, and for the first time to this point, he looks unsure of his words. Like you’re the one who might shut him down. But, you’re still too starstruck by the apology to make out anything else. Who in the history of -ever- has gotten a pirate of all people to apologize to them, out of choice? “I want to promise that I will not cause you harm again, Princess.”

Your mouth drops open at that. You’re starting to think you’re currently still having a fever dream and that you’re still locked up in the wine cellar, imagining all of this. You don’t even really care if he has an alternative motive, which he most likely has. That makes two of you, then. “Thank you,” you mumble, finishing the last of your soup quickly. Then, you look around the room, this time out of genuine curiosity. On the wall facing you, hangs a giant map, with thin, blue lines of ink marking a spider web across it. They must have all been sailing together for a long time, if they’ve seen all those places in their relatively short lives. You bite your cheek, and slowly breathe in. “Can I ask you a question, Captain Kyungsoo?” He nods.

“You’ve traveled a lot, right?” Again, he gives you a nonverbal response. “Do you believe in mermaids? I know they are most likely just stories,” you smile despite your hesitance, “but I’ve always wondered. They seem so fascinating!” This pulls a quirk from his full lips, turning them up at the corners, ever so gently. “Don’t laugh! My aunt, the third Queen, swears on her life that they are real. I just have to know, it’s been eating me up inside. And even if you haven’t seen them yet, doesn’t mean they can’t exist. You haven’t sailed the entire world yet.” You cross your arms over your chest when his smile grows, turning his smile into the shape of a heart, full and warm. It’s a foreign sight on his otherwise serious face.

“They are real,” he nods, smoothing his expression back into one of indifference, but you can see the twinkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

You brush your strand of hair back behind your ear, before shaking your head. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” This makes the man giggle, a sound that surprises you so that you freeze in place. It makes him look so much younger, painting such true joy into him that you can’t help but join in. “I would’ve believed you!” you whine, pushing your plate forward a bit in protest.

“They are real,” he repeats, eyes crinkled into half moons because of his wide cheeks. “There’s an island, far up north where the water is as cold as ice, but it doesn’t freeze. And there, in the water, you can see them swimming around. I swear it, they are real.”

You stop laughing when he does, and lean forward. “Are they pretty?”

“No,” the Captain breathes, “they are very ugly. With thick, grey scales all over, and sunken in cheeks. They have dull, almost see through skin, only barely visible in the water. And their hair is long and dark like the night. When you sail through their waters they try to crawl on-board of the ship, to take you with them into the water, and they cry painful songs as soon as their heads peak above the water.” He says it so fully, that you can’t even tell if it’s a lie or not. You want to believe it. “The Hellbound still has scratches on the side of her from when their claws scraped by the wood,” he nods. You just blink, and look at your plate.

“How do you know they want to harm? If they are magical creatures, they could be kind.”

“We don’t know they want to harm. But none of us were willing to find out. The water is too cold anyway, would’ve killed us in minutes. And since I’m responsible for my men, I didn’t want to take a chance.” You nod in understanding, looking around this room. To your left is the door back out, and to your right is a door that has only a small window in it. The golden plaque on it says ‘Office’. You can only imagine what treasures lie hidden in the office of a Pirate Captain. “And magic, that’s something for landlubbers like yourself. I don’t really believe in it.”

For some reason that doesn’t surprise you. With the breath you let out, some of your anxiety ebbs away. “Maybe I’m totally wrong, and excuse me if I am, but you don’t seem to want this,” you suddenly murmur. The Captain raises his brow a bit, a silent question. You clear your throat. “Everyone looks at you like you’re meant to be the one to lead, like… like you’re programmed to do so. They admire you, but they also seem to think you have all the answers, when you don’t. I feel the same things in a way, back home. Being a Royal. I know I shouldn’t complain, but most days I wish I could switch places with any other girl my age. I never asked for this, but people treat me like I did.”

You blink at him for a second again, biting through the tense feeling as best you can. “You treat me like I asked for this. And I treat you like you wanted to become what you are.” The man across from you gives you the tiniest nod. So you pick at the thin fabric of your dress, and look down. “So I guess I’m asking you now… Did you?”

The silence is filled yet again with the rushing of the waves, a constant the last few days that has become calming to your soul. Then, like the truth pains him deeply, he lets out a huff. “No.” Kyungsoo stares through the window revealing the deck for a long time, blinking against the muted light. “But things happen that push you in ways you never meant to go.” You try to respond a couple of times, but you’re not sure what to say. You agree with him… again. He doesn’t seem interested in elaborating about it further, so that leaves you both alone to your thoughts, in the same room. Not much later, Baekhyun suddenly pushes the door back open, his happy demeanor breaking through the void easily.

“The guests are breathing and alive! And I brought the second course.” The rest of the meal goes by in relative silence, both men informing you that the Red Skulls sold most of your left-behind items in Caryon. They also mention that these pirates are more ruthless than most. When you ask about what might have happened to the remaining crew on the ship, their faces don’t let on much, but you can notice Baekhyun tensing up at the topic. He swiftly explains that you shouldn’t have hope of seeing them again, which makes you incredibly sad for Jongdae. You don’t find out the actual reason behind inviting you to lunch though, which leaves you the most uncomfortable you’ve been in a while. Because you can’t figure out for the life of you why the Captain and his Right hand are being kind to you.

🌊🌊🌊

The days, though painstakingly long at times, are quite nice. You’ve truly grown to enjoy the breeze that flows past your shoulders when you stand out on deck. You’re gotten to sit up in the lowest of the crows nests, even though Sehun looked terrified for you the entire while. Turns out you wholly underestimated how long the trip would take, because seven more days out at sea seem like a lifetime. However, today is fun, since the wind has turned. The ship barely moves on the ocean, and the sails are pulled up and bound, which is a spectacle in itself. Baekhyun hangs in the ropes like a monkey, grinning like he is having the time of his life and you can’t help but tilt your head all the way back to follow his smooth motions from mast to mast, swinging between the ropes.

When you look over towards the rear of the ship, you can see Jongdae and Kyungsoo talk, even though it doesn’t last long. Kyungsoo’s hair is loose today, like it’s been freshly washed and though you’re not sure how he did that on a ship, you decides it looks good on him. It falls in fluffy tufts over his brows, hiding most of his frown even though you don’t doubt it’s still very much in place. When Jongdae returns back to your side, he smiles. You smile back at him, though the motion seems to pull at your muscles uncomfortably. You haven’t told him about the Red Skulls yet. You couldn’t, not when it’s clear that the hope has been all that he’s been holding onto. You turn to him, and lift your brows. “What’s got you so happy, Master Jongdae?”

“Nothing much,” he blinks, before poking your side playfully. “But I do have a slight surprise for you.”

“Oh no, what now…” you breathe, growing even more concerned at his overly excited grin.

“The ship is going to be stuck here for a while, since we’re stuck in between two currents caused by some smaller islands to the east. So I might have asked the Captain if it was alright to go have a swim. And before you say no, Sehun’s already getting you one of his shirts so you can’t back out.” He takes your hand to take you across the deck to the small space without railing, where a rope ladder hangs to a foot above the water. “We’ll just have a little dive, alright? The water looks great and it’s not very deep either.” The water does look great. It’s a warm, blue color, like that of a tropical island, and small droplets splash onto your exposed skin while you look.

“We’re on an pirate ship, and you want to take a little dive?” you giggle in return.

“Just because we’re on enemy territory doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to have some fun! Even Captain grumpy didn’t need any convincing.” When you roll your eyes, he pouts. “Come on, Princess, we’re going to be stuck here for an hour or two at least!”

To your other side, your best friend comes to lean his arm over your shoulder, and holds out the dark fabric of what you guess must be the shirt he was talking about. It’s quite thin of fabric, but at least it’s not as sheer as the dress you’re wearing. “You know you want to,” Sehun mumbles, the smile on his face audible even in his voice. You shake your head at both man’s antics, before jutting out your lips. But before you can convince yourself of any reasons that this might be a bad idea, your best friend lets out a high pitched laugh. Because he can see it on your face clear as day, fuck yes, you want to.

The water was pretty cold when you first entered, but now it’s actually quite warm. You laugh when Jongdae splashes a whole wall of water Sehun’s way, and swim out a bit more. The seafloor is only a few feet lower than the belly of the ship here, but it’s still way to deep to stand up. You smile, before letting yourself sink underneath the surface of the water and gently open your eyes. It feels a bit uncomfortable, but after a second or two you can make out your friends in the water, lower halves looking extremely silly. They look like frogs jumping around, only without getting very far. You look down the side of the ship, making out some paler lines on the wood that could very well be scratches, before coming back up for breath.

Jongdae smiles at you. “Princess! I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to catch a fish like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to catch one,” you giggle, and splash some water on their direction, before shaking your head. “Never-mind,” you reply. You sink under again, this time turning away from the ship to look down at the colorful plants that occupy most of the sea bottom. Small, multicolored fish swim in and out between the corals, unbothered by your presence. Some even swim towards you, as if curious to what strange creature you might be. They never get close enough to touch though, so you come back up to the surface for air. How pretty. For the first time in a while, this trip is going the way you wanted it to, and without being able to help it, you smile. You slowly make your way back to your friends, feeling the strain in your muscles from the lack of using them.

In all honesty, though you’re a good swimmer, you can’t remember the last time you actually did. It must have been years ago, that’s for sure. After another couple circles, you take hold of the ladder to your side to rest. Some of the pirates in the ropes glance down at you three every few, most likely wanting to take a dive as well. Jongdae comes to hold onto your shoulder as well, motioning Sehun over. “The plan seems to be going quite well, right, your Highness?” the older says, lowering his voice a bit out of caution. “The Captain seems less on edge about our presence than before.”

You give him a slight hum, though your brows are furrowed. “I guess… but I don’t really think that’s because of me. Baekhyun mentioned something about common goals, so it wouldn’t surprise me if we weren’t the only ones with hidden agendas. And besides, the Captain has hardly been very open with me since that one lunch we had a few days ago. He’s been very busy with the crew, and I don’t want to make it obvious either. Who knows what they’ll do if they find out we are —” you lower your voice even more, barely reaching above a whisper in volume, “trying to take over the ship?”

“I don’t think they have a clue,” Sehun smiles easily, backstroking past. “Who’d think that three people would plot against three dozen, after all?”

Jongdae nods. The two have become good friends throughout the time you’ve spent together, you’ve noticed. It makes you happy to see, since most of your time has been spent away from your best friend the last few days. And not that you’d admit it to him, but you’ve also grown quite attached to the older man’s quirky sense of humor and kind personality. “Exactly,” he agrees. “You’re doing great, Princess. Really. If you keep this going, in a few days you’ll definitely be able to enter there without the Captain even questioning it.” Though you shake your head with a roll of your eyes, you can’t help but hope he’s right. You don’t feel particularly glad to be misleading him after all, even though you should have no problems with it. Sehun and Jongdae are both kind people, and they don’t seem bothered, after all. Why should you be?

“Hey, Dae?” you then call, swimming away to let Sehun rest for a bit. “What do you think is going on with Captain Lilith? I know you most likely don’t want to talk about it, but I… I just worry, you know?” Baekhyun and Kyungsoo seem to worry too, though you don’t say this.

“I understand, Princess,” he soothes you, though he smiles sadly as he talks. “I know I’ve been avoiding the topic, because honestly… I felt guilty for a long time there. The Red Skulls are infamous, and known to sail those parts. As soon as we got attacked, I should have realized it was either them or these group of thieves, and never have left the fleet.”

“Jongdae…” Sehun tries to cut in, attempting to help, but Jongdae shakes his head.

“That’s what I should have done. But I didn’t, so there’s no reason I should beat myself up about it any longer. I can’t change the events of the past anymore anyway.” And he’s right, though you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you didn’t get attacked by pirates. What would you be doing right now? You’d probably be lounging in your bed, in the belly of the ship and sailing across the sea with no worries and no qualms. You wouldn’t have the scab on your cheek from a pirate sword, and you would most likely never have become friends with Jongdae. Not as quickly, at least. You would have never met Captain Kyungsoo and his mess of a Right Hand Baekhyun. You would definitely not have stopped here to take a dive in the perfect, blue water and you can’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your brain telling you that maybe, very maybe, you’re having a better time because of it.

but no, that’s ridiculous, right? You do your best to shake that idea from your mind, and sigh. “Whatever might happen next—” You’re cut off by a loud, childlike shriek from above you, and you look up. Baekhyun grins down at the three of you in the water, along with many others of the pirates who seem to have given up on work for right now, in favor of a bit of fun. The raven-haired tease scrunches his nose at you when you eye him, before taking a run up and tossing himself over the guardrails of the ship.

“CANNONBALL!” The splash he creates is gigantic, and goes up your nose when you giggle.

After a few long hours of playing in the water, you’re the first to climb back up onto the ladder. Which isn’t easy, with the immense effort you have to put in to lift your exhausted limbs above your head. You almost crawl onto deck, choosing to lay down on your back for a second, and feeling the cold wind nip at your shoulders. The afternoon sun is still warm on your shoulders, and the air is clear and cold in your lungs. If this wasn’t such a strange situation, this would be the only way you’d choose to spend your free time. Out at sea with friends, just enjoying the days. Maybe visit a tropical island or two, while you’re at it. When you open your eyes and roll onto your side, you come face to face with some boots, and looking up further, Kyungsoo. He stands hovered over your body, his top lip lifted slightly in what you can only guess is… awkwardness? So you stare at him for a moment, before pushing yourself up from the deck surface to stand on your legs. Only when you do, you notice the airtight way your shirt sticks to your shape, revealing much more of yourself than you wanted to. Oh, that’s why.

The man’s eyes linger for just a split second too long for you to miss it, though the rest of his face is schooled back perfectly into one of seriousness. He holds his arm out, with over it a white piece of clothing. “Here,” he nods for you to take it, “we figured you’d like to have the remainder of your items if given the chance. We found them being sold in Caryon. Don’t thank me either, it was all Baekhyun.” As you take the dress from his hands, you stare at it for a bit. It’s a white dress, with a boat neck and simple lace ruffles at the bottom, though pretty designs have been stitched on with white thread. Did you really bring this dress with you? You might have, though you don’t recognize it. The entire preparation period seems like a bit of a blur now, since everything that has happened between then and now. “I saw you getting up so…” he trails off, biting the side of his cheek. “Can you call the rest back up? The wind is picking up, we have to get going soon.” With that he walks away, not waiting up for your answer.

You hum after him in response anyway. When the Captain disappears from sight, you quickly peel the wet shirt from your body to slide into the dress, shaking a bit as the wind indeed picks up. Normally you’d never be this brave, but since everyone is either in the water or sleeping, you take a chance. Right on time in fact, because not long after the first pirates are making their way back onto deck. You tug your dress down a bit, frowning. You definitely did not bring this dress, you now realize, as it doesn’t even reach your knees. With a frown, you push the edge down a bit, turning when a whistle sounds out. Of course.

Baekhyun’s eyes seem to shine like diamonds, glee like you’ve never seen on him before. Of course this is his doing. “Baekhyun!” you hiss, walking over to him to punch him in the shoulder. “You think this is so very funny, don’t you?” He doesn’t respond, but takes hold of the hand you hit him with to pull your body way too close to his drenched one, smirking all the while. “Gods— let go, you maniac!” A bit harsh maybe, but it’s Baekhyun you’re talking to. He’ll get over it. This seems to push him towards the edge even more though.

“Don’t be like that, Princess. I got you a gift, you should be grateful.” Gift, hah, you think. The only person who it’s a gift for is him. “If you’re not grateful, I’ll tie you back up and sell you for a nice price as soon as we get to land again, little fish. Wouldn’t be the first. Don’t test my limits or I will test yours,” his voice grows so very close, face way too close to yours. Never mind, not harsh enough. You can’t help but want to shove him back, but his hold is too strong on your wrists. His words give you shivers down your spine, because you know he means it. You pull back again, and tilt your face away from him. Too much, too much—

“Baekhyun,” that calm, deep voice suddenly mumbles, and you can’t help the relief that fills your chest, “let the girl go.” Kyungsoo, though he just lifts a simple eyebrow in your direction, looks livid. It expresses in the line that digs deep between his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth that are genuinely down-turned. You freeze, as well as Baekhyun does, because both of you seemingly had not expected anyone to help. But you’re oh so grateful.

“Come on, Kyungsoo, let me play with her just a little bit!” the other whines, wrapping his arm around your waist as you struggle against him. “You never nag like this when other women are present. Just because she’s a pretty, little Princess doesn’t mean that I can’t tease her. Should I tease you a bit,” he asks you then, glints still flickering in his eyes. You don’t want to be teased. Not by him at least, you think, glaring up at the attractive guy, who suddenly looks so much less pleasant. He really doesn’t seem to notice that the game has long died for you, and that you just want him to let you go now. But with Kyungsoo standing so close, you’re not scared to push against the other man harder, shoving him to let go of you. But Baekhyun is quick, and his hand snakes around your arm, grip painful on you now. “Come on, sweetheart, I won’t bite.”

“I don’t care, you’re gross and this dress is not a gift to anyone but you! You care about no one but yourself, I can’t even believe I was starting to not despise you!” you snap at him, feeling a warmth around your other hand now. Kyungsoo is holding your free one, clenched tight in his. If it’s for your support, or his own, you’re not quite sure. It doesn’t seem to deter Baekhyun, in fact, it’s as if he’s able to look straight through Kyungsoo. Like a bull seeing red.

“If you want me to sort you out, you just have to ask, Princess. I’ll treat your precious, rich girl body so well that you can never spread your legs again unless I tell you to.” The grin he was wearing has long worn off, eyes so sharp that you don’t want to keep them. When he wants to step closer to you again, Kyungsoo pulls his friend back by his shoulder.

“Let. her. go,” the bassy thrill of his voice makes the hairs on your neck stand up. “I’m not telling you again.”

The dirty look that Baekhyun sends the other is vicious. “Why? No one else is allowed to play with your property, is it?” Though he seems to be getting more ferocious, he loosens the grip on you. “You’re delusional, Kyungsoo. You’re just as bad of a person as I am, I don’t know why you’re acting like a saint here. Why don’t you let go of her?! At least I never put a scar on her face.” You, seemingly forgotten, fall from his hand entirely, as he closes in on the other man. “I saw you looking at her too, I’m just not afraid to admit to it. You’re delusional,” he repeats. “At least I don’t expect her to suddenly fix what a shitty human I am! Unlike you, I have self-respect!” When you step forward automatically, Kyungsoo’s hand pushes you back away, keeping you out of reach. You’re not sure why you care, but Baekhyun looks frantic. Like he can’t see the world around him anymore, too drilled down in this emotion of anger to care.

“Baekhyun, snap out,” Kyungsoo solemnly replies, not backing down when Baekhyun shoves him against the shoulder. He doesn’t even seem to listen to the words thrown at his face, Something in the Captain’s expression makes you feel like he feels at least as sad for the other as you do, if not more. Your eyes narrow a bit as you watch the both of them from the sidelines. You want to help, but you wouldn’t know how. It’s truly as if the older sees black from all sides, and Kyungsoo knows. “Hey, breathe. I’m not your enemy.”

“Fuck off, Kyungsoo! You don’t know me!” Baekhyun basically growls at his friend, pushing past him. The man stomps away with his fists clenched so tight that his bones peek out white through his skin. You stare after him until he disappears into the stairway, leaving you both standing here in silence. All your energy has depleted, and the urge to sink to the floor floods over you. But you stay standing, and instead turn back to Kyungsoo.

“Thank y-” Don’t, a voice in the back of your mind screams like an echo of your previous anger, making you swallow the rest of that.

What Kyungsoo did was only what any other person would do. You don’t need to thank him for being a sane human being! Baekhyun was all up on you, because you’ve been taken as a captive here! You know your frustration is speaking now, but can’t help be mad. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to notice your mental tug-of-war. “Don’t— hold it against him, if you can. Baekhyun doesn’t mean to be this way, he hates it too,” his voice seems to die down the longer he speaks. “He just can’t… he wasn’t always like that. Some things still give him a very difficult time, and he has a hard time snapping out of it by himself.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes as he takes a few steps back, staring instead at your shoulder or something behind it. “I brought the rest of your stuff down. Baekhyun bought you some new things too. He thought you might like to get out of that one dress you have.” A soft sigh, as he looks at you again, storm-colored eyes dripping down your skin, as if soothing you from afar. “He seems to really like you, you’re kind to him. He hasn’t had a lot of that in life yet.”

“Right,” you just respond, biting your lips as you give a tense nod, not able to aim it towards him fully. He seems to understand, and gives a soft, understanding hum. Kyungsoo walks back after that, picking some of the thick ropes from the floor and hoisting them over his shoulder, before walking out of your view. And though you might not be able to admit it out loud, you say it internally with every fiber of your being. Thank you, Kyungsoo. Really.

🌊🌊🌊 🌊🌊🌊 🌊🌊🌊

.next part. 30.01.2020 as soon as possible

next part up tomorrow if all goes well!! thank you so much for reading his beast up ‘till here already~ it would mean the absolute world if you could sent me something about this one because i felt like deleting it all more times than i’d like to admit! hope you enjoyed and love you ♡♡♡

tag list @chanyeolol @ninibears-erigom @suhoerections @kimjongdaely @byunfirstlady @greenmetalroof and @spring-medley pirate!kyungsoo is finally here ♡ thank you so much for helping me through this and being excited for it

252 notes · View notes