#if you know me irl please never mention this ever thank you

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

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

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

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

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

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

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

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

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yandere Silver Headcanons

adhlbfypfqeyvf If you want to know why this is coming out of nowhere... I've been cooking (talking) with friends about this concept for over a month and now I'm going to dump it all onto you 🤡 This interpretation of Yan!Silver is in part based on Elbert Greetia from Ikevil 💀 so uh… be warned…

Regular Silver, staring at this monstrosity: 😨 TRIGGER WARNINGS: (slow burn) yandere themes, (unintended) emotional manipulation, gaslighting, spying/stalking, unhealthy possessiveness and obsession, mentions of blood, (Silver’s) delusions, minor character death

***PLEASE NOTE: writing yandere content is NOT the same as supporting or approving of these behaviors irl. This is also NOT what I believe Silver is canonically like; this is only meant to be a creative reimagining/"what if" scenario.***

Curiouser and Curiouser...

It all starts off like a fairy tale come true. But like Hansel and Gretel stumbling upon the witch’s candy house or a frog set into a simmering pot, the heat—the horror—isn’t fully cranked up in the very beginning. A dream doesn’t start like a nightmare, the nightmare comes later. And you, like the fool you are, were lured in by the promise of sweets and a prince.

The boy you've been crushing on for the last several weeks shyly approaches you and confesses. Handsome, earnest Silver takes your hands in his and gives you that lopsided smile you've been admiring from a distance. He swears himself to you as your loyal partner, vowing to protect you from the things that slither in the dark and prey on the unsuspecting. To keep you from hurt and sadness forever and ever.

You're giddy—positively over the moon and the stars—to finally (and proudly!) call yourself his. Every time you look at him, you swear it feels like a thousand butterflies are fluttering in your chest, or like you’re losing yourself in the aurora of his eyes.

You tell him his eyes are mystifying and unique, that they’re something you could stare at forever. He doesn’t seem to get it at first, but is pleased nevertheless and thanks you for the compliment.

It’s not until a few weeks later that the ramifications come. One day, out of the blue, Silver gifts you with a piece of jewelry (a ring, a necklace, an earring, etc; whatever your preference is!). Embedded in it is a clear gemstone that refracts the light in pastel pink, baby blue, and pale purple… exactly like his eyes.

He helps you secure it on for the first time and oh, how gentle his touch is as his fingers brush against your skin. Silver gives that small smile that melts your heart. “There. This way, you’ll always have ‘me’ watching over you,” he says, lightly tapping the aurora-colored jewel, “even if I am not right at your side.”

Sometimes you feel Silver’s own gaze lingering on you too. You know him to be an airhead or half asleep most of the time, so the thought never occurs to you that this spacey behavior is odd. But once or twice, when you’re stealing glances back at him, you notice a seriousness set in his eyes, a darkness creeping into the light. The same deadset look that scares off children and makes others mistake him for someone far more aggressive than he actually is, you think.

He lingers close when you walk to and class together, his protective instincts sending him into action to catch you if you so much as stumble, and remove errant leaves and petals that tumble onto your hair. “I have you,” he reassures you, oblivious to the electricity in his touch and how it makes you leap. “Don’t worry.”

Silver acts as though you’re as delicate as glass and as pure as freshly fallen snow. It’s not uncommon for him to praise your positive traits (while totally overlooking your flaws) or talk about how good of a person you are—and that also drives him to keep you that way. Untouched, untroubled. He’s so quick to steer you away from stressful situations or charging in to settle an issue himself, typically by talking down the aggressors. That’s thoughtful of him… right?

He has the habit of falling asleep on you when he gets to be comfortable. You usually don’t mind it, but sometimes he gets a little too clingy in his sleep. It’s hard to pry him off when he looks so peaceful and mutters your name under his breath while he has your body in a death grip.

Silver takes you on quiet nature strolls. You often drift off the beaten path and wander deep into the woods behind NRC, far, far away from the other students and staff. The sun sinks and sinister sounds come from the dark—you get nervous and leap into his arms, asking Silver if you should turn back now. He agrees every time, walking you back and wishing you sweet dreams. By the time you collapse into your bed from exhaustion, you don’t realize he has stolen you away for the entire day for himself.

It’s strange. You start to get the sense that you’re seeing Silver in your dreams just as much as you see him in the waking world. Rarely do you fully recall the details of your dreams, but there’s always that vague feeling of catching a flash of silver hair or feeling the heat of his eyes uncomfortably pressing into you when you wake up.

You tell him about this and joke that maybe he’s using his UM to haunt your dreams. “It’s impossible. You’re not Rook-senpai,” you laugh. He chuckles at the idea. But oh, how weird. Somehow the conversation tends to steer toward whatever you happened to recall of last night’s dreams. If Rook appeared in your dream, Silver coincidentally slips him into the discussion. Lightly probing questions like, “What is your opinion of Rook-senpai?” and, “Are you comfortable around him?”

Silver tells you about the stories his father has shared with him from his travels. Many are folklore from different regions in Twisted Wonderland, but more recently he has been fixated on fairy tales from the Shaftlands. “A couple finds true love and live happily ever after, nothing able to tear them apart…” he says dreamily. “It sounds just like us.”

Silver appears stoic on the outside, but you know that’s not the case. A few months into the relationship, you become acutely aware of his insecurities and his low self-worth. Not strong enough, not long-lived enough, not alert enough, not… enough. He will never be able to repay his debt to his father, Silver has confided in you many times.

“It’s okay. You’re here now, and you’re doing your best to keep the people you love safe.” You do your best to soothe him in those moments of weakness, for which he is thankful for. With shining eyes, auroras in the dark, he whispers, “You’re so kind to me.” Raptly, as if beholding a higher being. “What did I do to deserve someone like you…?” And there it is again, that seriousness, the light fleeing from him, as he vows to repay your kindness.

You’re acquainted with Silver’s animal companions and get along with them. Now you’re noticing them everywhere, not just around Silver. In fact, you see them without Silver. Birds in the trees, a rabbit hopping alongside you, the stag poking its head out from the bushes.

Then those animals reappear when you meet up with Silver later, looking all innocent, while Silver asks you about your day. If there’s a slight discrepancy (due to poor memory) or a detail you overlooked, he’ll gently correct you or clarify. “Blueberry muffin? As I recall, you had a cranberry muffin for a midmorning snack.”/“Ah, you forgot to mention you asked Ace if you could borrow a pencil for the exam.” You blink, surprised. How did he come upon all that information? How can he recite your day better than you can? It doesn’t hit you until much later that his animal friends have been serving as his eyes and ears.

He sincerely apologizes to you when you confront him about it. “Please tell them I don’t appreciate them snooping!” you cry out. Silver promises he’ll ask them to curb their curiosity—and while it’s true that you no longer see the animals following you, you can still feel their beady gazes around every bend and corner. Paranoia claws at your scalp, and you try to calm your doubts with one thought: No way would Silver be encouraging this. I must be imagining things.

You try to get your mind off of your worries by hanging out with your classmates. Sebek, ever boisterous and over-the-top, uplifts your mood. Pretty soon, you’re chatting away with him at the lunch table (even if he loudly refers to you as a HUMAN), paying no mind to the shadow that has fallen over it until a deadly quiet voice speaks up.

“Sebek.” It is so cold, so hollow, it startles both you and Sebek when you realize the speaker is Silver. “I don’t like it when you talk with them like that.” Sebek makes to say sorry to his fellow knight—or is it to challenge him? You never find out, for Silver has grabbed you by the wrist and is yanking you away from him.

He doesn’t let go until you’re in a secluded area of the courtyard. There’s a red mark left behind, and it causes tears to well up in him. Silver collapse like a house of cards. He’s extremely apologetic—he has hurt you, hasn’t he? He failed to protect you. How terrible. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have been so petty and jealous.

It breaks your heart to see Silver a mess, blaming himself so profusely for what happened. You do whatever you can to calm him, and eventually the conversation somehow turns to you accepting some fault. It’s not, though, the little nagging voice in your head protests. You silence it, prioritizing the emotionally vulnerable Silver. “I’m sorry, I should have considered your feelings and avoided giving Sebek the wrong message. I’ll avoid getting all buddy-buddy with him in the future, okay?”

And it happens again, again, again. One by one, your friends are cut off from you in a similar manner. It’s always something they do or say that concerns your boyfriend, something that impedes or disrupts that pristine, picturesque fairy tale he has laid out in his head.

Silver’s presence in your life becomes increasingly invasive, like unwanted briars creeping into a garden, thorns cutting off your access to air. He’s soon consuming every second of your day, whether physically beside you or planted in your worried thoughts like a demon disguised as a guardian angel. You can’t do anything anymore without feeling anxious and watched.

He starts to talk about… strange things. Tall towers, glass coffins, the bars of a bird cage. All manner of motifs pulled from fairy tales, items and places meant to keep a character shackled and stowed away from the world. “I feel bad for the person locked up in them,” you’d tell him. “Sometimes,” Silver murmurs mysteriously, “people will take drastic measures to protect the ones they love.” You cannot explain why, but those exchanges leave you feeling immensely uneasy.

You timidly share your experiences with people you think are safe. Silver’s dorm members, his friends, his family. The people who know him best, who can maybe talk some sense into him. To your dismay, your concerns fall upon deaf ears. You earn many blank looks and dismissive comments, all citing Silver’s good nature. (“He loves you very much. This is his way of demonstrating that, he’s just sort of clumsy with it. Give him another chance.”/“That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you’re remembering it correctly?”/“You’re overreacting.”)

It beats down your spirit, starts to make you question your own judgment. You second-guess your words and actions. Is your perception of reality right when everyone else is telling you that you’re wrong, that Silver could never harm a fly.

Then comes the guilt like a wave crashing into you as you think about all the good times you’ve had together. Rose-colored days under a balmy blue sky. Your thoughts are like a brewing storm, and every evening when you tuck into bed, dread, unease, and uncertainty follow you.

You’re waking from the lovely dream that was a whirlwind romance, seeing Silver for the imperfect and obsessive person that he is. Unfortunately, you don’t have the heart to bring up the tough subject with him. He looks so darn happy with you, continues to dote on you and act the part of a valiant knight. Your mouth will open, then close again before any words can come out. It hurts, it hurts, and it is eating you up from the inside out.

You bottle it up for Seven knows how long, but it comes torrenting out one night. Silver is walking you home as per usual when you blurt out the suggestion of taking a break from each other. He stills, hurt crumpling his face. And then he has you by the shoulders, softly demanding to know what is wrong, has someone made you feel unwell? You, it’s you, you’re suffocating me, you want to say, but you cannot.

Silver presses and you resist, the two of you taking up the middle of main street with your desperate quarrel. He’s becoming increasingly frantic and desperate, his eyes dark and obsessive. It’s then that a passing mob student angrily speaks up, giving you a rough shove. You meet the hard ground, pain shooting through you. “Move already!” he gruffly stomps by—but he’s caught by Silver, his expression like clouds that have drowned out the moon. “You put your hands on them just now,” he says evenly. “Please apologize.”

“Like hell I will! They shouldn’t have been in my way,” the mob student grumbles. He attempts to leave but to no avail. There’s Silver walling off his escape route, an icy fury overtaking him.

You can’t bring yourself to watch what happens next. Wrenching your face away, you do your best to block out the horrible noises that come. The crunching of bones, the dull thud of flesh against something solid, agonized screaming. And then it’s silent.

You slowly gather the courage to dare a look at the scene. The world tilts, and bile rises in your throat. Silver calmly stands over a fallen figure. The street—and him—are painted in red. The mob student isn’t moving. Not anymore.

He smiles. The small, awkward one that once made your head buzz and cheeks flame. It only yields a gaping hole in your heart now. Silver strolls toward you, caked in blood but acting as though he isn’t.

You’re too paralyzed with fear to attempt backing away or rejecting his advances when Silver tenderly embraces you. You tremble violently, hiccups and tears spilling out.

A hand strokes your hair, his voice a lullaby to soothe you. “Shhh, shhh, shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I took care of the big, scary monster. You don’t need to look at it—it’s not fit for your eyes.”

Silver holds you and allows you to sob until you’ve tired yourself out and into a dream. He will carry you home, setting you down on your mattress like laying a corpse in its glass coffin and taking in the sight of you from the foot of the bed.

Not realizing that he, the knight, is the monster that keeps his beloved in a gilded cage. His arms and body, the bars that lock you in. Irony is a cruel mistress, and twisted is the love that it propagates.

[autumnywinter]

Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)

Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T

I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader

Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.

Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.

He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!

There was no doubting it. You were perfect.

Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.

He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.

Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.

He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.

"Hey, Elliott!"

The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.

"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.

He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.

Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.

"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."

He knew. He watched you.

"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.

It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.

After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.

"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.

"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"

He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.

"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."

"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"

Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"

"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."

He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."

Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.

[itsbeeble]

Take My Soul, Take My Heart

SUMMARY: Seonghwa is a monster, this he knows. He is a monster, but he just can't help the obsession he has with love. You have taken his soul, staked your claim on his heart, and now he wants all of you

GENRE: smut, angst

PAIRING: pirate!Park Seonghwa x afab!reader

WC: 6,571

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn @flwoie

FIC TAGLIST: @sanaxo-o

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: jesus christ yall im wishing you luck with this fic fr, lots of plot, violence (like a lot), many mentions of blood, weapons (knives, swords, guns), threats, swearing, alcohol, seonghwa is lowkey obsessed with love, Seonghwa and reader are both a bit psychotic, they kill a man (actually many men), bad depictions of pirates arrrrghhhhh, manipulation, murder, mentions of brothels, actually there are some scenes in a brothel so yeah, p in v sex, marking, oral (f and m receiving), poorly done dirty talk i fear, unprotected sex (please wrap it irl), this is actually kind of vile, mayhaps future hongjoong x reader but who knows, not edited so pls lmk if i forgot anything or if anything looks dumb as hell

A/N: HEYYYYYYY how y'all doinggggggg. thank you to @deobienthusiast for beta reading this IT TOOK ME SO LONG BUT RAAAHHHHHHH SHE HELPED MEEEEE. I've been wanting to do a pirate fic for so long but i never got around to it BUT HERE WE AREEEE PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT PLSPLSPLS

Seonghwa learned a long time ago that love was nearly impossible with his life style. 

No matter his charms, no matter his will, no matter how he fucked, no one would stay. Not once they found out who he was, what he’s done. The crimes he’s committed are enough to sway those that he swore he would protect as he worshipped them under the light of the moon, above the swaying waves. Love, however, is nothing to him compared to the power he feels when on the ocean.

It was a choice hat he made a long time ago. A promise, really, that he made to Hongjoong the moment he’d stepped onto the wooden planks of the Blue Bird. He gave up the idea of love when he first drew a blade, when he felt the first drops of blood hit his skin and stain his clothing. The blood of men and women who threatened his crew, who threatened his lovers, who threatened him. He’d grown accustomed to the metallic stench, to the warmth of the red liquid against his skin. He practically bathed in it, relished in the feeling of it. 

Seonghwa doesn’t understand it, this feeling in his chest. This burning to be worshipped and loved. He cannot comprehend the longing, the desire in his stomach and in his heart. The longing that never leaves, lingering at the corner of his mind and at the tip of his tongue. Love is nothing compared to the power he feels with the weight of a blade in his hand, the metal of a gun at his hip. Love is a hindrance, love is nothing compared to the feeling of his weapon cutting through the air, through the flesh and bone of those who wrong him.

Seonghwa is soaked in blood still as he steps off the ship, his boots leaving wet footprints against the dock. Had the color of his clothing not been violently stained in the color, it could have been mistaken for the salty water that pushes and pulls against the rocky cliffs around him. A shoulder brushes against his, a hand pressing back against his chest to stop him in his tracks as Hongjoond looks up at him. That stern look is in his eye, one that the first mate had grown used to over the years.

“You know what we’re here for,” the captain’s voice is raspy. “Do us all a favor and don’t get distracted by any…side quests, if you will.”

Seonghwa’s tongue runs over his teeth, his shoulders rolling back and one of his hands coming to rest on the hilt of his sword. 

“When do I ever get distracted?” Hongjoong’s eyes are weary with travel, flicking from Seonghwa’s head down to his toes.

“Not what I meant, Hwa.”

“He means,” Wooyoung comes from behind the two, squeezing between them and throwing his arms around their shoulders. “Don’t fuck anyone. You know it never ends well for either party.” 

Seonghwa’s lip curls at the younger crew member’s words but he manages to hold his tongue. 

“Leave the man alone, Wooyoung.” San chides, pulling the cook back by the collar. “It’s not his fault he becomes blind when it comes to women.” Both men laugh, and Hongjoong folds his hands behind his back. 

“And this is funny to you two because…?” the captain’s eyebrow arches, his eyes glittering with a warning. 

“Well, I mean,” San stands a bit straighter. “Shouldn’t he know by now that ‘love’ doesn’t work with our lifestyle? Women find us, they fuck, take a bit of gold, and run off or try to kill us before the sun rises. Sometimes both at the same time. Love isn’t something that works with us. We’re blind to it, or it is blind to us.” 

Seonghwa pushes Wooyoung off his shoulder, his lips drawn into a thin line. Suddenly the bloody clothing that clings to his body burn like fire, uncomfortable and scratchy. 

“I have things to do,” he states with an eerie calmness. “I’ll be back by sundown.”

You take notice of the man the moment he steps into the tavern. Maybe it was his delicate features. Maybe it was the way the tavern went quiet with something similar to awe or fear or both. 

Or maybe it was the blood staining his clothing and dripping onto your freshly cleaned fucking floor.

You can barely hold your tongue as he approaches your counter, your jaw ticking and your eyes narrowed. His own, like that of a fox, are darting from person to person as if measuring how long it would take to strike them down. In a bar full of pirates, he is one of few that came alone. 

When his eyes land on you, he straightens his spine. I am powerful, I am a god, fear me. His body language is screaming the words, but you’re screaming right back.

One wrong fucking move and I’ll have your ass on the ground with a bullet between those pretty eyes before you can blink.

His lips twitch up into a smirk, yours deepen into a scowl.

“You got blood on my floor.” 

“I apologize.” 

“You don’t sound genuine.” 

He leans against the counter, eyes searching yours curiously. A glove-covered hand slides a gold coin toward you, your heart jolts. 

“I am sorry.”

“Apology accepted, gorgeous.” Your painted red lips curl into a delighted smile as you snatch up the coin before curious hands wandered a bit too close. “What can I get for you?”

“Mead, any will do.” His eyes seem to be searching you, sizing you up, and his tongue runs over his teeth. You do as he says, all too aware of his eyes watching you and staring you up and down. You weren’t a fool. You knew of your…features and what drew customers in. Men, women, you couldn’t care less so long as it got you what you wanted. Gold. Silver. Fuck, even copper would do sometimes. There was hardly a level you wouldn’t stoop to if it meant paying back your debt. 

You turn back to him, a mug of honey wine in one hand. He still watches you, curious and unashamedd of how how examines you. You let him, knowing deep down that you were doing precisely the same in order to ignore the man under your counter. 

“Anything else, gorgeous?” You lean forward, tongue dancing across your red lips. He watches the motion and smiles coyly. 

“Information.”

You kiss your teeth, arms folding on the counter as you watch him glance around the bar. “On?”

“A man going by the name of Socha.” 

Your body stills, fingers curling into tight fists. You feel eyes burning into your skull, and the gun barrel pressing into your hip grows tighter.

“I know of no one by that name.” 

The man searches your gaze, and you can’t find yourself wanting to look away. You want so desperately to scream out. He’s here, you want to tell him, there is a gun against my hip and a room filled with his crew all around you. Help me!

“Are you sure?” The man leans closer to you, tilting his head and bringing his lips close to your ear. “There’s a reward in it for you if you tell me where he is.”

“I know of no one by that name.” You repeat. “I would greatly appreciate it if you left my bar now, sir.”

He pulls back from you, pursing his lips briefly before returning to the malicious smirk. “If you change your mind, find Seonghwa on the Blue Bird.”

You don’t move a muscle until the door he entered through is shut. The tavern returns to its original volume, and the gun against your hip lowers. Your fists unfurl, and the gold coin hits the ground. 

Socha rises from beneath your counter, lips spread in a vile grin and a stench that makes you want to gag. 

“Maybe you’ll be useful after all, barkeep.” He leans in close to you, raising his gun to brush stray hair out of your face. Your throat tightens and your eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in your body screaming to run. “Loyalty isn’t something we take lightly on the Skylark.”

“I understand,” you choke out, praying to anyone who might listen that the gun leaves your temple. “Thank you for the…opportunity to prove my worth.”

Seonghwa doesn’t appreciate liars.

He also doesn’t appreciate the fact that the captain of the Skylark had decided to take an innocent woman hostage at his favorite bar in his favorite city. 

It was obvious what had been happening. Sure, it was typical for a port city to be filled to the brim with pirates, especially at the local taverns. What wasn’t typical was for the tavern to be filled to the brim with pirates wearing clothing the color of drying blood, a symbol that the Skylark crew had taken in the early days when Socha spilled blood across the ocean for miles and miles, his clothing stained so dark it looked black. 

He wasn’t stupid. He saw the fear sparking in your eyes the moment he said Socha’s name. Now it was time for him to wait for you to come to him. 

“You seem so sure that this barkeep will show her face.” Yeosang sits on the steps leading to the upper deck, twirling a curved blade between his fingers.

“She was terrified. Socha was there. Whether she wants to or not, she’ll be on this ship tonight with information we need.” 

Seonghwa leans against the railing, steadying himself against the waves that crash against the side of the ship. He’d changed out of the bloodstained clothing hours ago, washed the dried liquid off of his skin and let it run into the ocean. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden light against his face that he soaks in with delight. The warmth of these last rays clings to him, and it’s when the sun has finally set below the horizon that he accepts that you will not be coming to the ship this night. 

“Maybe you need to do a bit more convincing than just giving a woman gold,” Yunho stomps up the stairs from the lower deck, a crate in his hands and a grin on his lips. “Maybe that’ll get you something in a brothel, but that was a woman working in a tavern. She knows better.”

“Shut up, Yunho.” Seonghwa spits out, whirling on his feet and stalking toward the gangway with burning ears and a boiling hot temper. 

He was pissed. He had truly believed that you’d show up. Was Socha still holding you in that tavern? Were you afraid of him? Were you afraid of what might happen if the captain found out? Were you loyal to the Skylark?

Seonghwa huffs, his hand finding the hilt of his sword again as he makes his way into the port city. It’s busier now that the sun is down, the streets crowded and filled with vendors of all sorts. Weaponsmiths, farmers, beggars, thieves. The streets became alive with everyone under the stars. It made it more difficult to maneuver quickly and quietly, but Seonghwa knew that he would only draw attention to himself if he moved any faster than he was. 

A delicate hand grabs his elbow and faster than the brothel worker could blink, there’s a dagger against her throat and her back is against the wall. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted with shock. Seonghwa drops the blade just as fast as he’d drawn it, his eyes lit with annoyance. 

“Care for a step inside?” Her tone, despite her previous shock, was sultry and enough to draw almost any many in. 

“I am not interested in what you have to offer.” Seonghwa begins to pull away, but her grip tightens. Her eyes are desperate now, and Seonghwa allows himself to pause.

“I believe you will be very interested to know that someone has paid good money to speak to you,” she speaks quickly, tugging at his arm to guide him to the door. “Please. Step inside. They will guide you to where you need to be.”

Against all that tells him to turn the other way and run, Seunghwa listens to the woman. She steps to the side, that seductive look plastered back onto her face as she guides him and other patrons into the building. 

The stench of sex is heavy in the air. It’s thick and nearly overwhelming his senses. Or, perhaps, it is the burning incense that overwhelms him. The smoke provides a haze, distracting him from the naked bodies all around him. Scattered across th4e ground, in chairs, on tables, in rooms that are only covered by a loose, sheer cloth overe the doorway. He avoids looking at anyone he can, but then his eyes find you. 

You’re tucked away in the corner farthest from him, your eyes watching his every move. His head tilts, tracing your body with his eyes. Nearly bare like the women around you, covered only by a shear cloth seemingly lined with gold. You tilt your head up, practically beckoning him toward you.

He follows you, putting up no fight against the primal urges inside of him that tell him to pin you against the wall and take you right there. 

His steps, careful and calculated, weave through the bodies on the floor, following you into the darkest corners of the brothel. You don’t let him get close, no matter how he chases you. It’s like a game to you, and you’re winning. Seonghwa lets it happen. 

“I’m sure you understand why I brought you here,” you murmur, your voice hardly louder than the sexual noises around you. A private room in the very back of the building and secured by a wooden door. “I had to speak to you where we could be…private, able to speak freely.” 

Seonghwa, for a long moment, doesn’t say a word. He watches the way your hips sway with every step, watches how you bend forward to light each candle. 

“You said you wanted information,” you speak again, coming to stand directly in front of him. Your breasts brush against his ribcage, your hands reaching for his. “I’m prepared to give you it.”

“In exchange for a quick fuck?” He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at you. You only smirk.

“I had to bring you somewhere logical. Pirates love brothels almost as much as they love my bar. Besides, if anyone comes stomping in here, at least they’ll get a good show, won’t they?” 

You push Seonghwa towards the large fur-covered mattress with more force than he’d expected. He stumbles back, letting himself fall back until his spine meets fur. You’re quick to crawl over him, sheer fabric coming loose and allowing your breasts to come free. 

“Why are you looking for Socha?” You ask him, hips rolling down against his. Seonghwa stifles a groan, relishing in the feeling of your grinding hips and the way your nails digging into his chest. His hands grip the flesh of your thighs, squeezing tight enough to leave marks. 

“Why was he in your bar?” the pirate counters, eyes drooping in a lust filled haze. You click your tongue leaning down and nipping at the lobe of his ear. 

“I asked a question first.” Your lips trail kisses down his neck, a trail of red lipstick following you, and Seonghwa feels air brush against his chest as you undo the buttons of his shirt. “Answer me, gorgeous.”

“He has something of mine,” he says, annoyingly calm given the circumstances you have him in. “I want it back.”

You roll your hips down with more force, leaning back to admire his sculpted body. You shouldn’t be shocked. He’s a pirate after all. One with a gorgeous face, gorgeous body, and you’d be willing to bet his cock is equally as perfect. Your mouth waters at the thought, your body sliding back so you have easy access to his cock. 

“What does he have?”

Seonghwa sits up, leaning back on his hands as you work at his pants. A lazy smirk is plastered on his face, one that has your stomach churning and pussy dripping with need. 

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts. “My turn to ask a question.”

His hips lift as you start pulling his pants down, exposing his half-hard cock to your eyes in the dim candlelight. 

“Ask away, gorgeous.” Your hands inch forward, reaching for his cock in an act of near desperation. 

“Why was Socha and his crew in your bar?” Seonghwa watches as you wrap a hand around him, a breath of air hissing out of him as you stroke him gently up and down. Your eyes lock with his as you lean down to spit on his cock, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from losing his composure. 

You shrug at his question, letting a bit more spit drip from your mouth as you pump his now fully erect cock. “They wanted drinks, I suppose.”

“Bullshit and you know it.” Seonghwa grunts, letting his head roll back. You smirk, letting your free hand slip down to cup his balls. 

“Tell you what,” you dip your head down and place a kiss to his tip. “Let me please you, and if you aren’t satisfied I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“And if I’m satisfied?” He asks, reaching a hand to tangle his fingers in your hair.

“You take me with you out of this godforsaken city.” 

Seonghwa’s breath, for the first time, stills. He searches your eyes for something, anything to tell him what might be happening. 

“You…you want to come with…with me?” 

He’s confused. Why on Earth would someone like you want to come with him? “You have a life here. People who care about you, guaranteed safety. Why would you—”

“I have nothing here.” You spit out, leaning up to look him in the eyes. “I have misery and shame and misfortune. I do not care that I will not be safe with you.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Then we will make the choice later.” You kiss him gently, leaving him aching for more of you. “Let me satisfy your needs, Seonghwa.” Your hand pushes at his chest, urging him to lay back. 

“I don’t even know your name,” Seonghwa’s head hits a pillow, letting his gaze settle on the ceiling above him. 

“Do you need to?” He can feel your lips trailing down his chest, nipping at his skin and leaving marks he knows will not go away. 

“It would be nice to know who I’m speaking to.” Who I’m fucking.

“I suppose,” your lips touch his hip, right beside a trail of hair, and he can feel the way they curl into a grin. “You can call me Y/N.” 

Seonghwa can’t get a response out before your lips are wrapping around his cock. His fingers curl into the furs beneath him, fighting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth and force you to take as deep as you can. You could probably handle it, but he knows he needs to exercise restraint for himself if anything. 

Your nails dig into his thighs, leaving little red crescents in his golden skin as you take him. He can feel your throat constricting around his cock, trying desperately not to gag as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft as you pull yourself off of him, kitten licking the tip before taking him all the way back down again. Your nose presses against his pelvis, and Seonghwa can feel tears hitting his skin. Or, perhaps, it’s spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth as you hollow your cheeks and swallow around him. 

Finally a pitiful groan is pulled from his lips. 

Deep and gravelly as if he’d been holding it in for far longer than his body wanted him to. Your eyes peer up at him, your tongue laving at his balls and your hand pumping up and down while your mouth is occupied. Seonghwa’s hips jolt, little drops of precum leaking from his tip in an endless stream. His back arches as your mouth returns to his aching cock, your pace fast and harsh as you swallow around him and suck as you pull back up, urging him to cum faster. 

His back arches off the bed, his jaw drop and hollow moans pouring from his lips. One of his hands finds your hair, holding you in place as he begins to piston his hips up. Your eyes widen, your hands flailing briefly to find purchase on something, anything to keep you somewhat upright. You’re gagging now, unable to help it as Seonghwa’s cock punches the back of your throat. 

You like it, though. You like how rough he is with you, the way he lets himself lose control and become blinded by his own pleasure. His hands yank at the strands of your hair, and a moan escapes you. The vibrations run down his cock, and suddenly Seonghwa’s hips stutter and thick, white hot liquid is spurting down your throat. You try pulling off of him, the liquid coming out too quickly for you to keep up with, but Seonghwa forces you back down, forces you to take all of it down his throat.

“That’s it,” he coos, breathless and mocking. “Take it all. Take everything I’m giving you.” The snide comments pull a whimper out of you, and you allow yourself to relax just enough to swallow all of his cum. 

When he finally releases you and allows you to pull off, there’s droplets of cum running down your chin. Your cheeks are burning, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and you’re pretty sure your hair is a knotted, uncontrollable mess. 

He’s smirking down at you. I am powerful, I am a god, fear me.

You raise yourself up, slotting your lips against his. You are powerful. I am not afraid of you.

“Are you satisfied, then?” You murmur, letting one hand come up to cup the back of his neck, the other slipping down to soothe the ache in your dripping pussy. Seonghwa kisses his teeth.

“You think my cock down your throat is enough to satisfy me, darling?” Your breath hitches at the vile nature of his words. It isn’t as if you hadn’t heard that before, however he says it so…condescendingly. As if you were a fool to assume that he would be done with you just yet. 

“Are you not…satisfied?” 

“I’ll make you a deal, darling,” The tip of a blade rests under your chin and your stomach churns, however it isn’t with fear. No…this is something else entirely. This is…lust? No…it burns too sweet to be lust. “Take me to Socha, kill him yourself, and fuck me in his bed while my captain kills the rest of his crew, and then I’ll be satisfied. Do we have a deal?”

“Will you let me come with you?” Your eyes gleam, and Seonghwa jerks your head up to kiss you. ‘Kiss’ being a very loose term. With his blade against your throat, he shoves his tongue into your mouth, and you push yours against him just as hard. Teeth clash, biting at each othe harshly in a motion that’ll leave you both bruised and bleeding. 

“I’ll let you come with me.” 

You weren’t expecting them to trust you. Hell, you half expected to be shot dead the moment you stepped onto the Blue Bird. Hongjoong stairs you down with curiosity and doubt in his gaze, but he says nothing as the crew argues over whether or not to trust you and your word. Or, rather, Seonghwa’s word. 

“You think we can trust her?” Mingi is eyeing you up and down, his lips curled into a sneer. “She’s a barkeep, she’ll say anything for some gold and a quick fuck.” 

You bare your teeth right back at him. “Is that not what a pirate is? Roaming the seas and sticking their cocks into the first hole they see and grabbing as much gold and ale as they can carry?” 

Mingi is far larger than you are, but you are not afraid. You cannot be afraid if you wish to be on this ship for the rest of your days. You cannot be afraid of the men Seonghwa sails with and commands. 

“And what of Seonghwa?” Jongho, the quiet one in the corner, chimes in. “Do we not trust him? Right hand of our captain, are you doubting that he has our best interest in his mind?”

“I think that he slept with the first person he saw and immediately became blind to reality.” Mingi snaps back. “How long before this one leaves you? How long before you decide you’re sick of her and throw her overboard?”

Your heart drops to your stomach and your head whips to look up at Seonghwa who has gone still beside you.

“What is he talking about, Seonghwa?” Your hand pulls from his, but he grabs it right back.

“He is speaking nonsense,” he snaps, eyes glaring at Mingi. “I know exactly what I am doing. I know who I can and cannot trust. She is loyal to us, not to anyone else.”

“And you got all that from having your cock down her—”

“Enough!” Hongjoong’s voice rises over the others. All it takes is that one word for all to go quiet, their gazes on him as he rises from his seat on the table. “Seonghwa is my right hand, if he says that this woman is to be trusted then she will be trusted by us!”

“But—” Mingi tries to argue but a pair of dagger-like eyes hone in on him. 

“Do you want to be on slop duty?” Mingi’s face goes green and the eyes are trained back on you. “And you— are you so certain that you want to join us?”

“I am certain, Captain,” you tell him, dipping your head into a nod. “I have never wanted anything more.”

“Then it’s settled,” Hongjoong declares. “We kill Socha at sunset tomorrow.”

There’s an odd sense of safety that you feel while you approach the Skylark. You can hear the chatter of the crew from the edge of the gangway, but you know that a crew of your own is watching and waiting for your signal. 

Your signal, of course, being Socha’s body being dumping into the harbor. 

“Hey! Look who it is!” 

A hand clamps down onto your shoulder and you grimace at the first mate’s disgusting smile. 

“Little miss barkeep came to pay us a visit!” The crew erupts into cheers, some calling for a drink and some calling for you to give them a show. Bile rises in your throat at the sounds they make. Suddenly the blade up your sleeve feels a lot lighter in your hand. “How can we help you, little miss?”

“I need to speak with Socha.” Your voice holds steady, thankfully. 

“Socha isn’t expecting you today.” The first mate clicks his tongue. “I’ll take a message.”

“This is urgent,” you argue. “I have information on the Blue Bird’s crew.” 

The first mate barks out a laugh, throwing his head back as he bellows. The crew joins him, and your cheeks begin to heat up. 

“You think we give a fuck about that measly little crew?” The first mate cries.

“What are those dumb fucks going to do to a crew of 80 men?” Someone across the deck cries. “We have ten to their one, they can try but they won’t fucking get past the gangway.”

“Now, now gentlemen.” A deeper, gravelly voice to your right grabs everyone’s attention. Socha leans against a railing closest to his cabin, lip curled at you in what looks like disguswt. “The little miss has information for us! We should hear her out.”

“Socha,” you breathe out andhe clicks his tongue. 

“I don’t believe we have rewarded you yet for your…loyalty, have we?” He’s five steps from you, almost close enough to stab him. His hand reaches for you, and you take it. Two steps, only a bit too far from the edge of the ship. 

“Can we…can we speak a bit more privately?” You look at him through your eyelashes, lips pushed out just a bit. “It’s a little loud out here.”

“Of course, little miss.” Socha’s hand on the small of your back makes you want to light someone on fire. It disgusts you, and the bile begins to rise in your stomach again as he guides you to his quarters. He lets you in first, keeping his eyes on your swaying hips the entire time.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you spin around to face him. 

He’s one step away.

The knife in your sleeves drops into your palm.

You raise your blade to strike him.

A gunshot.

Both of you go silent, your bodies going still. There’s something wet soaking your skirts, you stumble back. Your eyes raise to the man behind Socha.

The captain hits the ground, blood pooling around him. Blood stains your cheeks and your white shirt. 

There’s commotion outside the cabin. 

“I had it handled, Seonghwa.” Your eyes narrow, and your lover barks out a laugh.

“I know, darling. But he would have shot you the moment he saw that blade.” A body hits the door, wood beginning to splinter as Seonghwa takes the two steps he needs to reach you. Blood soaks the bottoms of his boots, but neither of you care. His hands come to cup your cheeks, blood smearing across your skin as he brushes over your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“You did wonderfully, my love.” He murmurs, and you find yourself beaming. “I think, however, you still have part of your deal to hold up to.”

“His cabin is a bit far,” your lips are brushing his and you lift your head just a bit to try and kiss him but he tuts at you.

“A deal is a deal, my love. I will not be fucking you near a dead body.” His nose curls and he kicks Socha out of the way. 

“Fine. Have it your way, gorgeous.” 

You take his hand in your own, swinging the door of the captain’s quarters open to reveal the end of a blood bath. Hongjoong is watching from the upper deck as the other six members of his crew dump bodies into the harbor. You catch his eye as you move through the masses and down to Socha’s cabin and he gives you a small nod. 

You did well.

I know I did. You keep your head high, a proud smirk on your lips before you disappear with Seonghwa hot on your heels. 

Seonghwa’s lips are hot on your neck, his hands dancing over your body grabbing at everything they can. Airy moans pull from your lips, an addicting sound that has Seonghwa afraid that you may be a siren. He cannot get enough of you, cannot pull away even if he tried. 

In the center of the room, the two of you stand bare and ready for each other. A pile of clothes surrounds you, a bed behind you and a desk covered in papers in front of you. 

“You’re fucking addicting,” Seonghwa growls, grabbing at your hair and yanking your head back to bare your neck for him. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” 

You can’t respond, hands shaking as they grab at Seonghwa just as harshly as he’d grabbed you. Your nails scratch down his chest, his back. Into his hips to try and force him closer to your body, but he keeps himself just out of your reach. 

“Mingi was right,” Seonghwa grunts as he spins you around, pinning you against the desk and throwing everything that was on it to the side to make way for you. He shoves you back, pinning your shoulders against it. “I became blind to reality the moment I saw you in that fucking tavern. Addicted to you the moment you spoke to me.”

His lips reattach to your skin, making their way down your throat, past the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. His hands grip the flesh your thighs, forcing your thighs apart to make way for him. You’re dripping for him, you can feel the liquid pooling at your center, dripping down your thighs and onto the desk below you. 

“Fuck, I will never go a day without looking at this pretty pussy.” 

Seonghwa’s hand rubs against your folds, spreading them and rubbing your slick around for a moment before pulling back.

Smack!

The sting is almost unbearable, your back arching as you wail and Seonghwa’s hand cracks down on your pussy once more. 

“So pretty for me, love when I get rough, hm?” You can barely hear him. Hell, you don’t think he can hear himself in this lust filled haze. “You’ve taken my soul, taken my heart from its confines. You have to pay for that, you know?” 

You whine when his lips touch your cunt for the first time. Soft at first, kitten licks and little kisses against your clit that quickly become harsh sucks and nips that have your back arching and legs thrashing over his shoulders. It’s easy for him to pin your body down, making heat growing in your stomach as he eats you like a man starved. His long tongue dips into you, digging in as far as it can go before Seonghwa drags it up to swirl around your clit, drawing figure-eights with the tip of it and making your body writhe before he repeats the process. 

A knot begins to form in the pit of your stomach, and you cry and beg for Seonghwa to please please please, faster, more more, god please. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as he focuses his attention on your puffy clit, digging his tongue into it and listening to the way you scream his name. Your back arches one final time before you’re coming undone beneath him, your body quivering and your hole clenching repeatedly. Your hands find purchase in his dark hair, yanking at the strands for some semblance of a grasp on reality. 

You don’t get long to recover before Seonghwa is flipping you over and pinning you down again, face down against the desk. You can practically smell your own cum, and you try to push yourself up just a little bit. 

“You’re not trying to get up, are you?” Seonghwa’s lips are right next to your ear. “You know what to say if you want me stop, darling.” His lips nip at your ear and you whine desperately, finally caving and letting your arms drop. “Good girl.”

His hands rub against the backs of your legs, massaging them gently before spreading them open once more. 

“You ready for me?” His hand traces along your dripping folds, waiting patiently for your response. 

“Please, Seonghwa,” you whine. “Please fuck me!” 

So he does. 

The stretch burns as he pushes in, but he’s quick to soothe you, kissing your shoulders and down your spine so, so gently compared to what you know he’s going to do to you. Your walls clamp down on him like a vice, trying desperately to push him out but pull him in at the same time. 

“So tight,” he groans, biting into your back as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, engulfed by the warmth of your walls and somewhat reluctant to pull out again. “Fuck, you feel so good around me, darling.”

“Hwa,” you moan out, hands clawing at the desk as you try to push back against him, trying to get him deeper inside of you. “Please, please move!” 

His hips begin moving before you can finish your statement. He sets a fast, brutal pace, each thrust punching the air out of you and leaving you wailing his name. You scramble to find purchase on the edges of the desk, holding tightly so as to not slide off. Seonghwa grabs at your shoulder with one hand, the other gripping your hip as he slams his hips against yours. His cock reaches places you never believe one could, brushing against a spot inside of you that has your vision going white with pleasure, your hiccuped moans becoming nearly silent screams. The knot inside of you draws tight again, and Seonghwa is practically throwing you over the edge as your body seizes up once more.

“Fuck,” he grunts out. “Cumming again already?”

“I— I can—can’t help it!” You hiccup. “Feel—feels so—so good!”

“Yeah, I bet it does,” Seonghwa grunts, letting his head fall back and his jaw fall open as your fluttering walls force him closer to the edge than he wants to be. “Fuck, don’t wanna cum yet but this pussy feels too good.”

His body folds over yours, one of his hands slipping down to find your clit. Cries of overstimulation pull from your lips, your body shaking as he continues to rail you into the desk. Seonghwa’s hips begin to stutter, and the moment he feels your walls flutter around his for the final time, he’s cumming. He breathing is ragged, quiet whines pulled from his lips as your pussy clenches around his cock. 

You can barely move as he pulls out of you, your body covering in sweat and cum. Seonghwa runs a hand over his face, catching his breath and brushing his hair back. 

“You alright?” He crouches near your face, tracing a finger along your cheekbone while you recover. “Here, let me help you.” 

Seonghwa is quick to lift you up, shushing you when you whine, and carries you over to a surprisingly luscious bed. He sits against the wall, your body curling into his as you both recover. The steady rocking of the waves against the ship seems to calm you, your breathing evening out until you’re fast asleep in his lap. 

He’s almost asleep himself until the door of the captain’s cabin swings open and Hongjoong barges in. 

The captain’s eyes fall to you briefly, and Seonghwa swears he can see his tongue running over his lip before Hongjoong’s eyes are back on the right hand. 

“We gotta get going, soldiers from the upper city are on their way down to find out why there’s bodies in the water.”

Your body stirs, eyes fluttering open quietly and Seonghwa grins. 

His heart and soul belongs to you now. You, the first and only one to not run from the monster he’d become. 

“And so it begins.” 

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[theamberfist]

Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before. 

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in. 

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived." 

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with. 

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned. 

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now. 

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool. 

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul. 

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully. 

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you. 

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water. 

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way. 

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper. 

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world. 

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today. 

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer." 

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either. 

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift. 

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity. 

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming." 

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough. 

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow. 

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back. 

[lokideservesahug]

Love in 3D

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x reader. Part of this Mall AU collab with @ham1lton

☆ -idiots in love  | fluff | comedy | smau + written ☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Warnings: A teensy bit suggestive at a few points, Logan and reader have crushes on each other but are super oblivious, mention to Oscar + his love intrest in the series (it's like a multiverse!)

Notes: I took liberties with what films were showing so it doesn't reflect their actual release date or showing time irl. A special thanks to @ham1lton for allowing me to be apart of this, brainstorming with me and beta-ing my work (you're amazing and ily <33 :D).

Summary:When you go to the cinema to watch a film that a friend of yours suggested, the last thing you expected to do was to develop a crush on a certain American worker (or be handed an excuse to come back). Or alternatively, when you keep on going back to the cinema, it's because you're just a massive cinephile...right?

Slight prelude here

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Now when a friend told you to visit the cinema because you just "had to see this new film, it's so...you!" you didn't think much of it. You had avoided looking at reviews for it online and excused the visit as a means to treat yourself, especially with how hard you've been working recently. After taking a short journey into the centre of town, you traverse to the movie theatre. You walk through the towering glass doors and are suddenly enveloped by the comforting atmosphere. The low key, warm lighting bouncing off of the harsh crimson furniture in all directions makes you feel almost at home when paired with the low mumble of families waiting to see films and discussing ones they'd just viewed.

The atmosphere almost makes you feel drowsy so unsurprisingly, you wholeheartedly believe you are living a dream when you walk up to the counter and the most gorgeous man ever stands before you. His green eyes meet yours in a friendly encounter and you give him a quick one over. Your eyes scan from the bottom of his worn out, white trainers to his stained, blue t-shirt (was that butter splotched in the middle?) and even to his long blonde/brownish hair - that clearly hadn't been cut in a while as it swoops over his face, making him look like a prince-.

Somehow, your brain manages to coherently string together a thought that isn't focused on the man in front of you as you ask for "One ticket to see ‘Cats’ please." Yet as soon as the words leave your lips, you're back to daydreaming about the innocent cinema worker behind the counter. You've never seen him before because you're sure you'd have noticed. But then again, you were in the middle of town so of course you don't know everyone. How foolish. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice him softly asking you a question.

Your eyes widen in horror for a moment. Oh no. What did he say? Eager to only please him, you tilt your head and utter out a timid "Yes?" which sounds as confused as you feel. You glance down at his nametag as a means to hide your confusion and are met by the sight of a neat, embossed ‘Logan' in the centre. However, the answer must have been right because the man’s, Logan you suppose, face splits out into a toothy grin and he mutters a few positive sounding adjectives in response.

“Great. I'll get one ready for you now." He drops to a squat and rummages behind the counter as you furrow your brows. Did you just sign up for something? He pops his head back up from below the counter and you give him a small smile (that feels really quite uncertain with your fate. "Can I get a name for the card, please?" You respond with your name and his soft smile and compliment make your cheeks feel warm. He hands the card to you and you feel your breath catch in your throat at the brief contact of his warm fingers on yours.

"Have a great day and enjoy the film." You turn to mush at his sweet smile and begin to long to see only that sight until your dying day. You utter out a small "You too." and at that moment, you finally regain consciousness and want the ground to suck you up. Logan laughs melodically at your slip up which makes you smile at his laughter. "So sorry. I didn't mean that... I was just distracted!" This causes his laughter to die down as he squints his eyes and one side of his mouth curls up as if he was beginning to smirk. You shoot him a small smile and swiftly pivot and speed for an exit this time with a small "Have a nice day. Thank you."

As you finally reach your seat, you look down at the ticket and card he gave you. Huh? The tickets are much cheaper than you expected. Maybe you'd have to come back again sooner (and you suppose the cute workers aren't any deterrent). You place the ticket on the arm rest and your attention is drawn straight to the card he also placed in your hand. This must be what you unknowingly agreed to. You shake your head, cursing (and praising) your mindless state earlier as you look at the month long cinema pass lying in your hands. Well maybe you would have an excuse to come back soon after all.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logan stares at the man opposite him, gently tapping on the counter. The American had never acutely noticed just how non-existent his love life truly is. Well, until he met you, now he finds that every moment when you weren't blessing his shifts to be dull and in his books, futile.

Oscar's words cut through his thoughts. "Well, I think you can try and make it more obvious? I've heard some people give discounts to the customers they really like. Maybe you can try doing that?" 

Logan looks down and blushes. "I uh... I've already given her a staff discount." Oscar lets out a slow exhale. "Damn... you never-" "Yeah I know." Logan has only just accepted that he has feelings for the Y/H/C girl, let alone broken work policy... Himself a few weeks ago would have gone into cardiac arrest at just the thought.

"Damn, you must be whipped." Oscar's laugh at the end makes Logan break into his own set of laughter. “Well, no…” Oscar reaches for a roll from the floor to ceiling cupboard and pivots with a ‘Hearty Italian’ roll in his hand whilst simultaneously raising an eyebrow at the blonde man, making Logan laugh in resignation. “Yeah, something like that." The Aussie grins at his friend's newfound carefree nature. It has been a long time since Oscar has seen Logan this happy and the two of them have known each other a very long time. Oscar slices the sub as Logan begins his soliloquy.

“But you don't get it, Osc. She’s just… I’ve never seen such a gorgeous woman before . I mean the other day I told her a joke and she actually laughed.” Oscar smiles and mutters “no way” in the same manner in which you’d speak to a child. “And when she laughed I swear it was a taste of what heaven is like!” Oscar hums in acknowledgment as he mindlessly flicks a handful of ham slices onto the bread. “And last week, she bought some popcorn, which I couldn't charge her for of course, but she had both caramel and butter together. I’ve never met anyone else that does that!” Logan releases a dreamy sigh as Oscar opens the large toaster door and slides the roll in.”She’s perfect Osc. I think we were made to be together.” 

"Well," the Aussie begins whilst turning round and getting the sandwich from the toaster. "I say if she comes back then you shoot your shot. I mean who was it that was complaining the other week about their 'truly abysmal love life' ?" Logan looks down and chuckles. "Yeah man I mean it still is that bad but..." Oscar smiles in acknowledgement, he has his own struggling love life and completely understands Logan's dilemma.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You sigh as you fall back on the sofa. “So let me get this straight. You decided that the best course of action was to just go to his work several several times a week.” You turn and squint your eyes at your best friend's words. “Well no but…” She rolls her eyes at you. “But what Y/N/N? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're just trying to deny your feelings for him but still seeking out his company if it's for a few moments.”

You stay silent as you ponder her words. “I'm just worried about you getting hurt from this. I mean he's probably not even that cute.” You shake your head at her. “Oh no, he really is.” She tilts her head with a questioning look. “It's just… He's so sweet. He always helps the elderly customers and is such a  gentleman. Oh and don't get me started on how good he looks. I mean his eyes are such a gorgeous, enigmatic mix. And Oh those arms. You should see them when they fle-” 

“Oookay. I get it Juliet.” You sigh in longing at just the thought of Logan. “We will put a pin in that for later because there is a lot to unpack there.” You give her a tight-lipped,  thankful grin. “So, moving on, did you hear what happened to Melanie last week?” You try to push the thought of your favourite American to the back of your mind as you focus on the latest gossip of your friend. Besides, lack of boy talk should do you some good for once.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Oscar slides the signature sub across the counter. "Thanks, mate." Logan smiles and unwraps the warm sandwich and takes a bite. Logan groans at the familiar taste. "Damn it's not that wonderful mate." Logan shakes his head at Oscar's words. And looks around quickly, piquing Oscar's interest. The older of the two leans forward and speaks in a hushed whisper. "I came in last week and that new employee made my sandwich...." Logan pulls a face that can only be described as depicting pure, unadulterated disgust. Oscar only laughs in response. "It's not funny mate, I didn't know a sandwich could taste that horrible and I have the simplest thing ever!" Oscar shakes his head and sports a distasteful expression at just the thought of his co-worker. But doesnt make any effort to hide the expression as he begins to speak. "Yeah well, at least you have a good meal now." Logan tilts his head "Yeah I guess so." He glances at the clock and curses. "I'm going to be late! Thanks Osc, catch you later." Logan scrambles out of the food court towards the escalator and Oscar is left in historical laughter at his best friend's frenzied, pining state.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

When Saturday roles around, you decide that unsurprisingly, you are going to visit the mall you have found yourself frequenting recently. Surprisingly though, you walk through the doors with good, honest intentions today. You have a film in mind that you are desperate to see and you take a small amount of pride in the fact that you are visiting for the cinema’s true purpose rather than going just to ogle the cute American behind the counter. Over the past few weeks, you have seen a multitude of reruns of old, black and white films, only shown a handful of times all the way to new kids films just as an excuse to visit your favourite worker (not that you'd ever admit that of course).

However, as you approach the counter, eyes scanning all of the workers' space, you can’t seem to find Logan. Instead, you are met by the sight of a slightly older, quite attractive, blonde man (that is unsurprisingly very much taken as you gather from the shiny gold band on his weathered hand). As if he notices your wandering eyes, he asks “Anything wrong love?” Your eyes snap to meet his. “Sorry?” He gives you a friendly smile, “You just look quite distracted, that’s all.” You shake your head. “Sorry I just…” the words seem embarrassing now that you think of them. Oh yeah, sorry sir I only visit because I’ve got a massive crush on one of the workers here and I’m just really upset that you aren't him. 

You pull yourself out of your thoughts and address the man - a quick glance down at his name badge informs you that he is Jenson, a senior manager at the cinema. You nearly grin at the sweet badges pinned to his landward, hanging next to the badge; a multitude of film quote badges and oddly a few bakery item pins? How random. You focus your attention back on the man. “Can I have one ticket to go and see ‘Challengers’ please?” Jenson nods and types on the digital keypad in front of him. You reach down and rummage around in your bag to try and find the cinema card (and your payment card of course). When your fingers find the edge of the cards, you pull them out and hold the cards stationary in the air, level with the worker’s screen. “I have this cinema card that you can scan.” Jenson’s eyes widen, he gives you a quick look over before his mouth splits into a toothy grin. “Ah!” is all he says before he gently takes the cards and swipes them one after another in the card slot. 

His expression makes you feel as if you’ve been left out of something important but you don’t have much time to linger on the thought before Jenson is walking away from where he stood with a small promise that he’ll return shortly. You rock backwards on the balls of your feet in suspense, maybe the card didn’t work? You look around, a small part of you is hoping to somehow catch a glimpse of your newfound crush but to no avail. The mechanical sound of tickets being printed breaks you from your scanning of the lobby. Jenson places the tickets and the two cards back in your hand. Yet surprisingly, he also slides a large bag of popcorn in your direction. You give him a questioning glance. Was this yet another thing you’d managed to agree to buy without realising? Jenson only gives you another of those wide smiles before answering “He talks about you a lot. And you're the only one to have bought one of these cards. Well, unless you’re Bertie but you certainly don’t look 80 years old.” 

His words make you blush and huff out a small laugh. You pocket your cards, grab the bag of popcorn and walk away muttering a small thanks. You find your seat, mind whirring over what is left in front of you. On your left armrest is a bag of caramel and butter popcorn, paired with the memory of Jenson’s words. “He spoke about you” Your cheeks warm at the thought of Logan possibly reciprocating your feelings. And then you fully settle into your seat, prepared to finally focus on the screen, you can’t help but notice that the price on the ticket is higher than usual… How odd…

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Meanwhile, Logan's phone:

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: A nice weekend off for once

Liked by Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 46 others

View all 12 comments

Oscarpiatri: mate you ditched me for a golf weekend?

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I just needed to get my thoughts together

↳Osarpiastri: ooh. Is this about **********

↳Logansargeant: Shush mate, you can make it less obvious.

↳Alexalbon: Oooh who or what is  **********?!?🤨

↳Oscarpiastri: 🤐 i’m afraid i’m sworn to secrecy

↳Alexalbon: Booo. You’re no fun

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

For the entirety of the day, Logan has been staring at the door each time it opens. At every worship of the automatic doors on the carpet, his head whips up, hoping to find you there, only to be met with a gaggle of 40 year old women or a party of school children. Logan isn't even afraid to admit the reason behind his peculiar behaviour. He has missed his “staring at Y/N time” as Oscar has so fondly nicknamed it.

After the text he received from Jenson, he can't help but feel a buzz of hope linger in his stomach. He's seen you many times before but the fact that you're coming even when he's not here and possibly looking for him (Jenson's words, not his)? Just the thought makes Logan grin. He already had today planned out in his head. You'd walk through those doors with your regular smile and come up to the counter. You’d then ask to see another random film that was showing at a later point today. He’d flash you a smile and when you’d go to pay, he’d stop you and insist that it was his duty to pay for a woman, especially on the first date. You’d be left in wordless awe and would beg him to let you repay him to which he’d only respond by swooping you into an eager ki-. His daydream is interrupted by soft coughing.

His head whips up only to be met with the familiar shade of your eyes which had plagued his dreams for many nights. You give him a soft smile and all of Logan’s previous “plan” exits his mind as he just gets lost in your eyes. He smiles back at you and lets out a breathy “Hi…” Your grin widens. “Hi Logan, how are you today?” Gosh even you just saying his name makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. He readily answers your question and the two of you fall into eager small talk. 

It almost hurts you to have to pull out of the conversation but you find yourself needing a distraction from the cute Yank on the other side of the counter. “So do you have any new film recommendations today?” Logan lets out a contemplative hum. “None that you haven't already seen.” You visibly deflate at his words. In the past, you have always been very strategic with when you visit and planned trips when there were new films showing.

However today you didn't look as if you were too wrapped up with just the thought of seeing Logan again. “Oh…” You let out an awkward laugh. “Well I guess you've turned me into a cinephile then.” You inwardly slap yourself at your words. Genius. You've all but outed your crush for him, you might as well get on one knee and start spouting sonnets. Logan's cheeks warm and he gains composure before he responds. “Is there, uh, anything else you can do near here? Go to the record store? He'll, my boss, know a killer bakery that he used to work at if you ever want any recommendations!” You almost feel like spilling your guts to Logan and revealing the true intention of your visits. “Well… In all honesty I've never really explored the rest of the mall, I've mainly stuck to the cinema.”

Logan perks up at your words. This could be his chance. He rubs his shiny palms on his trousers and shakily responds. “Well… I could show you around later if you'd like that?” 

You fight the urge to start grinning like a lovesick fool. “I think I'd really quite like that.” Logan's mouth turns into an uncontrollable toothy grin as he laughs in surprise. “Great. Yeah. Amazing. I can't wait!” You giggle at his cute rambling. “What time do you get off?”

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The two of you sit in content silence. “This was great.” You eagerly nod at the man sitting opposite you as you take another scoop of your plain froyo. “It was truly amazing. Thank you and I hope we can do it again.” He smiles softly at you (despite how often he's done it throughout the evening, you still feel butterflies erupt in your stomach). He replies softly. “I'd love that.” He waves to one of the supervisors (who is involved in a conversation with clearly too much sexual tension with a curly haired man, clearly another supervisor if the badge was anything to look at). She catches Logan's eyeline and nods. After the two of you have paid (Logan insisted that it was his duty to pay) and left the restaurant, you walk around arm in arm with the man with a new found confidence. 

“So where to next time? Is it a bit too on the nose to suggest a movie date next time?” Logan laughs breathily as he pulls you into his side. “Sweetheart, I think you've seen enough films to last you a lifetime.” 

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Jenson watches as his favourite worker leans over the counter with a wide grin on his face. He thinks back to a similar time when him and his partner were also like that. As you quickly lean in to peck Logan's nose, the older man can't help but feel a sense of pride for the man almost like his son and a sense of joy for your blossoming relationship; which very clearly is the best thing for the both of you. 

Logan glances up at the clock every few minutes. His eagerness to clock off makes you giggle. “What's got you so tense?” His face softens. “Sorry. I just really want to take my gorgeous girlfriend to this new shop that's just opened up.” You fight the urge to blush and instead just tilt your head playfully. “Really? What does she look like, maybe I've seen her before.” You glance around and consequently don't notice Logan scrambling over the counter and engulfing you in a large embrace. “Hmmm… I think I've found her.” Your protests get lost in the laughter as the two of you each off, Logan's shift finally at its end.

Jenson watches the two of you exit the building, arm in arm with lovestruck expressions on your faces. Gosh, you were adorable. And gosh he was going to have to do Logan's job and refill the slushy machine…for the third time this week. 

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: Guys, I have to finally come out and admit it, this is the “view” I went to the cinema for.

Liked by: Logansargeant, Yourbestfriend, Oscarpiatri and 104 others

View all 18 comments:

Yourbestfriend: 😐Simp😐 Also Logan I am out for your blood

↳Logansargeant: What. Why!?!

↳Yourbestfriend: You took my wife from me😫

↳Logansargeant: My wife now (soon)🙂

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, Ilysm❤❤

Logansargeant: Who is that handsome man?

↳Yourusername: He has a gf, sorry :/

↳Logansargeant: Is his girlfriend single because she is gorgeous?😍😍😍

↳Yourusername: Depends on who's asking🤨

Alexalbon: Awww! So cute to see you together after Logan spent weekends raving about you

↳Logansargeant: Nuh uh

↳Oscarpiastri: fym nuh uh?

↳Yourusername: Aww Lo. You raved about me?

↳Logansargeant: Of course baby how could I not💙

↳Yourusername: You're adorable

↳Oscarpiastri: 😐🤮

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Logansargeant

Logansargeant: Finally made me change my ways (also if you see this and you're Jenson then we aren't breaking any cinema policies and see you on Monday)!!!

Liked by yourusername, Oscarpiatri, Alexalbon and 107 others

View all 24 comments:

Yourusername: Oh my gosh that photo of us outside the cinema turned out so cute❤❤

↳Logansargeant: Only because you're in it💙

↳Yourusername: Charmer…

↳Logansargeant: What can I say? It's the only thing to do when you have such a gorgeous girlfriend😉

↳Yourusername: Lo stop. I'm actually giggling and blushing rn wtf

Oscarpiatri: is this what you do on company time now

↳Logansargeant: I'm afraid so Osc

↳Oscarpiastri: does this mean you'll put a staff discount on my tickets now, finally

↳Logansargeant: Sorry Osc, I don't think I'm allowed

↳Oscarpiastri: oh but your gf has been getting it since before you even started dating!?!?!

↳Yourusername: Awww Lo, really? That's so sweet (and explains the cheap tickets now)

↳Logansargeant: What can I say babe? I've been whipped from the start

Jensonbutton: I suppose I can Ignore the fact that you had your phone out in the cinema room just this once.

↳Logansargeant: And this is why you ate my favourite boss!

↳Jensonbutton: You only have one boss…

↳Logansargeant: So you truly are the best!

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 8]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: *SPOILERS: Please read after reading the chapter* As I mentioned in my author's note, the places in this chapter are either inspired by, or directly noted, as real places in NYC. The 'French language book store' is heavily inspired by Albertine, which does have a beautiful ceiling on the second floor, like the one described here, and is only a twenty minute walk away from the second location, Central Park Zoo. So this chapter largely takes place in the irl area of Upper Manhattan. Again, thank you so much for reading!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Blueberry pancakes were a treat that you haven’t enjoyed since you were a kid. You used to make them during warm, summer mornings with your mother. You remember sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your small legs off the edge, with a bowl in your lap that was almost as big as you. Your mother always used bright blueberries picked from her garden, and joke that it was her trick to get you to eat more fruit. But it never felt like a trick to you; it only felt like a treat. 

Maybe that’s why this morning felt strangely familiar. Jung Kook had gotten fresh blueberries from the market earlier that week, and had the idea to drop them into some pancake batter. You felt like a little girl again, only this time, your legs were longer as they hung off the edge of a kitchen island that wasn’t yours. You were still in your grey pajama shorts and an oversized black sweatshirt, with your slightly brushed hair pushed away from your bare face with a plain black headband. Jung Kook wouldn’t mention it, but he had never seen you look more beautiful. He just settled on sending you gentle looks as he watched you stir the batter. 

The apartment was comfortably quiet. You could hear the morning traffic from the streets down below, but just like the first night you spent here, the outside world seemed a million miles away. You absentmindedly looked around his kitchen while you cooked, glancing past Jung Kook, whose back was turned towards you as he plugged in his griddle, and onto the photo you saw the other night. 

“Hey, Jung Kook,” You caught his attention. “Is that your Eomma? In the photo?” 

“Hm?” He hummed, turning towards where your attention was. “Oh, yeah. She was at my graduation.” 

“She’s very pretty.” You complimented, making him grin. “Your parents must be so proud of you.” 

“I hope so.” Jung Kook offered a soft smile. “Appa passed away years ago, but I like to think he’d be proud of me.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright.” He chuckled a bit to himself. “Really, it’s ok.” 

“Still. I’m sorry.” You apologized, letting a moment pass before asking, “Did he practice law, as well?” 

“No, he um, he worked at the ports.” Jung Kook explained, putting his hand above the griddle to check the heat. “He was hired during the big trade boom that happened years ago, right when the Busan ports really took off. He uh, worked in a warehouse.” 

“That sounds like hard work.” 

“Yeah, I remember he had a lot of pain.” Jung Kook recalled, leaning against the counter. “When I tried to play with him, he’d complain about his legs. But I don’t know how much of that was from really from work, since he was sick too.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded, saddened by his story. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Jimin talks about losing his Eomma sometimes, and I feel like I never know the right thing to say.” 

“Is there ever really a right thing to say?” Jung Kook asks, with a sad smile and a shrug. “I didn’t know that Jimin lost a parent too.” 

“Yeah, a long time ago.” You said, memories flooding back. “She was always so nice. She used to bring Jimin to my house for playdates when we were kids, because she was friends with my Eomma. We used to play in the pool in my backyard, while our mothers would talk for hours.” 

“Your families must know each other well.” Jung Kook said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too sad. 

“Our parents have been friends for years.” You nodded, and explained, “Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the only reason why Appa said yes to our engagement.”

There was a silence. So much hung heavy and thick in the air, that Jung Kook wanted to know. Has your father changed his mind about Jimin? Do you need to be engaged to someone from yourworld of wealthy, business families, in order for your family to approve? How does he, the son of a warehouse worker, have a chance with you? But as he looks at you, the only thing he could focus on, was the empty spot where your engagement ring should be. Its absence gave him hope that he clung to, despite knowing like he shouldn’t. 

“I think uh, I think its hot enough for the batter now.” Jung Kook lightens the mood, taking the bowl from you, before turning around. “I’m starving.” 

“Me too.” You responded, thankful for the change in tone. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing today, by the way.” 

“Can’t.” He tsked, spooning out batter and grabbing a spatula. “That’s a surprise. Top secret.” 

“No way you’re keeping secrets right now.” You joked with a smile. “And to think, we were getting along so well.” 

“Were?” He looked at you from over his shoulder with a playful look in his sparkling brown eyes. “After today, I think I’ll be your best friend.” 

“Best friends don’t keep secrets.” You mumbled, making him shake his head with a dimpled grin.

You ate breakfast, before getting ready for the day of whatever Jung Kook had in mind. As you slipped on a floral mini sundress and a pair of comfortable sandals, you realized you hadn’t stopped smiling since retreating back to the guest room.

As the two of you left the apartment building, and made your way down the stairs and onto the subway, Jung Kook couldn’t stop his fingers from twitching slightly and fidgeting by his side, like there was something magnetic trying to pull his hand towards yours. He wanted so badly to touch you, but he resisted. So he just sat in silence, as the train moved quickly down to its next stop, and watched as you looked through your phone’s camera roll to pass the time. You stopped on the photos of Jimin just a little longer, looking at his happy smile and crescent moon eyes that you’ve grown to love. You don’t see them much these days, and you missed them. 

Jung Kook watched your finger hesitate above the screen to move past each photo of Jimin, despite knowing he would be on the next one too. He had to admit that Jimin looked happier back then, the excitement of a newly found love clearly written on his soft features. 

“Hey,” Jung Kook said calmly, making you look up at him, your shoulders touching as you sat close together. “Everything is gonna be ok. You’re worried, aren't you?” 

“Yeah.” You agreed. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be sad today.” 

“It’s alright.” He reassured you. “I think you have every reason in the world to be worried right now. But, I also think that everything is going to work out.” 

“Yeah?” You asked. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, giving into his temptation to hold your hand in his, settling it comfortably on your lap. “I think everything will work out for the best.” 

When the subway stopped, he kept his hand in yours and led you through the crowd, out of the subway. He let go as you two walked side by side down a few blocks into the city. The air was warm but not unpleasant, with a slight breeze blowing through your hair. You looked up at him as he spoke animatedly, pointing to various things he’s discovered since moving to the city, and you noticed yourself matching his energy so easily. When Jung Kook smiled, it made you smile, too. His laugh was contagious, making you laugh along with him. When he became excited in sharing something, it made you want to be excited about it, too. There was a boyish charm to him, an almost innocent undertone, to everything he did that made it so easy to be with him. 

You realized that you weren’t with Mr. Jeon, professional and put together. You weren’t with the shy student who sat next to you in class and bought you a chocolate bar on a hard day, either. You were just with Jung Kook; the son of a middle class warehouse worker, who worked his way into one of the most elite law firms in Manhattan. A man with dazzling brown eyes, dimples, and a sleeve of tattoos decorating one of his toned arms, who looked more like a rock drummer than a lawyer. A man who, until now, you have never looked at too closely. But now that you have, you admit to yourself that you find it hard to look away. 

“I’m really excited to take you to this place.” Jung Kook said, standing beside you facing a crosswalk. “How much French do you remember from university?” 

“I use it often, just so I won’t forget.” You said with a smile. “I can’t believe you remembered I minored in French.” 

“Y-Yeah.” Jung Kook said, suddenly embarrassed. I remember everything, he thought to himself. 

The two of you quickly walked across the street, and into a beautiful, small bookstore. Jung Kook walked over to the mini espresso bar, and ordered two vanilla lattes while you looked around the store, realizing all of the books were written in French. 

“A French language book store.” You realized, turning to the man coming over with two drinks in his hands. “Jung Kook, how did you even find this place?” 

“I found it one day, just passing by on my way to our next stop.” He explained, feeling happy that you were happy. “There’s an upstairs, too. You have to see it, it’s the best part.” 

He led you up the creaky wooden steps, and into a gorgeous room, with a ceiling painted a deep, navy blue. Spots of gold paint contrasted against it, like stars, and brought of the gold of the large pendant lighting fixtures illuminating tables of books. 

“Jung Kook, it’s so pretty.” You said, staring up at the ceiling. Captivated by the art deco work, you didn’t notice Jung Kook was captivated by you.

“Yeah.” He agreed, his soft eyes focused only on you. “Really pretty.” 

You stared at the fake stars, painted onto a fake sky, and Jung Kook continued to stare at you, and feel something undoubtedly real. It was the same real feeling that he felt this morning, making pancakes with you. The same feeling, when he saw you sitting alone at a restaurant, abandoned by your fiancé. The same feeling he had every day, sitting next to you in class. The same feeling he’s had ever since he met you. He knew what he wanted to call it, but naming the feeling would make something that’s real, a little too real. So he watched you take a photo of the ceiling, and browse the books, and sip your coffee, and do what you’ve always done best; make him feel something and not know. He continued to do what he does best; fade into the background, and not let you know. 

“Are you done looking too?” You asked, walking over to where he was standing. “This was amazing, Jung Kook. Really, thank you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled. “C’mon, I’ve got one more stop.” 

After exiting the store, and walking down a few blocks, you realized the direction you must be headed when in front of you, was a large, green area.  

“The park?” You asked. 

“Kind of.” Jung Kook said. “I mean, yes, Central Park, but uh… more specifically, the zoo.” 

“The zoo?” You smiled. “You’re taking me to the zoo?” 

“Is that ok?” He asked, his voice had a touch of nervousness to it. “I think there’s something here you’ll really like.” 

“It’s definitely ok.” You said, touching his arm to relax him. Little did you know that had the opposite effect, making his cheeks turn pink at the contact. “I haven’t been to a zoo in such a long time.” 

“Great. You’re going to love this.” 

Taking your hand to lead you through the crowded ticket booth and entrance, you finally made your way in, and just like the subway, he dropped your hand when the crowd was gone. You understood why; he was being respectful, not wanting to cross any boundaries, or act inappropriately. But you still couldn’t shake away the small, unfading sense of disappointment when he let go. 

He helped you up close to the glass, so you could look in to see fuzzy, red pandas lazily sleeping around their exhibit. Jung Kook pointed, sticking his finger to the glass, at one that had a bit more white in its face, making it look extra adorable. You watched him excitedly talk about them, and how he’s excited for the zoo keeper to do their feeding demonstration. 

“It’s almost time.” He said. “They’re just so cute.” 

You realized just how well that word suited Jung Kook, too. The curve of his nose, and his charmingly big puppy eyes, and his toothy grin, and his dimples. Standing next to him felt like being next to comfort personified, and as you watched him, that one, perfect word spun around your mind; cute. 

That word stayed, lingering persistently, on your way back to the subway, and when his hand slid so easily into yours again to lead you through the crowd. It stayed on your walk back to his apartment, and when he came out of his bedroom dressed down in black sweatpants and a t-shirt. It stayed when he sat on the floor of his living room with you, eating freshly delivered pizza and pouring you a glass of wine. 

That one glass became two, which became three, and casual conversations turned into deep belly laughs over university stories that you knew you’d never forget. His laugh, his fluffy, dark hair, his energy that seemed to radiate off of him. Everything was just…Cute. 

As you were helping him clean up the mess from the kitchen for the night, a red wine buzz inspiring clumsy movements from both of you, you let out a giggle every time your bumped into each other within the small space of the kitchen. You helped in putting up cleaned plates, while Jung Kook placed left over pizza in the refrigerator. The two of you turned around at the same time, almost colliding with each other, if it wasn’t for Jung Kook quick placement of a hand on each of your arms and steadying you. He froze, locking his attention onto you with wide eyes. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled with a grin. 

“It’s ok.” You replied, meeting his grin with your own. 

You both stood there smiling for a moment, before Jung Kook’s eyes dared to look down slightly, taking a peek at your lips. He let his concentration stay there for a moment too long for you not to notice, and the air became heavy, yet somehow delicate, at the same time. The traffic that could usually be heard from his apartment seemed to have fallen silent, and the room around you melted into empty space. He stood still, afraid that if he moved too quickly, he’d scare you away. So he waited for something, anything, unsure of what he was waiting for, or if he’d recognize it if he saw it. 

Then, a ring of his phone in the living room brought you both crashing back to reality. You looked away from his face with a funny feeling in your chest that you couldn’t place. It was like being greeted by an old friend from years ago, but not quite remembering their name. 

“S-Sorry.” He stuttered, taking his hands off of you to walk quickly towards the living room, leaving you in the kitchen alone. 

“Hello?” He answered, mentally cursing whoever was on the line. 

“Hey, it’s Namjoon.” Namjoon said. “I just wanted to check in with you and Ms. Y/L/N, just to see how she’s doing today.” 

“She’s good.” Jung Kook responded, resisting the urge to hang up the phone. 

“That’s good to hear.” Namjoon’s voice sounded mildly suspicious. “Listen, I also wanted to give you a heads up about tomorrow; you’ll be receiving a call from a possible new client in the morning who I sent your way.” 

“O-oh, ok. Wow, uh, thank you.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. “I appreciate that.” 

“Don’t mention it. He gave me a brief run down of the situation over the phone today while you were out; damages to a private yacht, he says it’s not his to pay. He’ll tell you more tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good.” Jung Kook said, looking at you finishing cleaning in the kitchen, finishing with everything without him.

“I’m sure you’re tired, I won’t keep you on the phone. Get some rest, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Jung Kook said quickly, hanging up the phone to see that you were already walking away, retreating to the guest bedroom. 

“‘Night, Y/N!” He said, cringing internally at himself for how loud and rushed his voice came out. You politely stopped and turned, meeting him with a smile. 

“‘Night, Jung Kook.” You waved. “Thanks for today. I had a lot of fun with you.” 

“Me too.” He said, kicking himself for his response as you walked away and closed your bedroom door. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled at himself, before going into his bedroom for the night. 

[bitchlessdino]

OMFG!!! i just read that chan smut and omg. THE DUALITY!! i literally love all the smuts that you write. also my birthday is february 6th so, if you don’t mind, could you write me a smut with my bias/biases. as you know i have a daddy kink. my biases are chan, seungcheol, and hoshi. you don’t have to. love you and thank you for the dino smut i absolutely loved it!-🎧

Pairing: Fem!reader x seungcheol x chan x soonyoung

Genre: smutty smut smut

Word count: 4.7K

Tags: poly, reader wearing a dress, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pet names (princess), degradation, praise kink, brief choking, fingering, oral (rec. And giving), unprotected sex (please assume everyone is clean, don't do this w/o prepping IRL), pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration (i know), daddy kink, mean chan, sweet Cheol

Summary: it was just a dumb little party game, gets taken too seriously in teh best way possible. Happy fucking birthday to you.

Author note: first off, happy birthday! You’re always active here and sending me ideas and I appreciate you so much. Second off the fact that your list is my exact top three made this very self-indulging. I thank you for that. Please enjoy me writing out of of my darkest fantasies 😭

“Fuck. Marry. Kill. Seungcheol, Chan, Soonyoung. Go.”

You scorn up at Mingyu, “Didn't know we were still in middle school?”

You were celebrating your birthday with a couple of close friends having some drinks and good quality takeout at your place. Somewhat small for others but what you preferred it. Having all the attention on you in a public place was not your scene. These small intimate gatherings were more your speed. Then again, it prompted dumb shit like this.

Mingyu was not many shots in, but he looked like a toddler that learned to walk for the first time, so it was fair to say he drunk out of his mind. “Don’t cop out, answer the-hic-damn question.”

Your gaze shifted from the three men, all equally waiting for a response. You take a moment to linger in each thought of each man, internally listing out any and all of their redeeming qualities. 

Seungcheol, who pretended to not care about your answer, peeks at you through his peripheral. He was the impossibly attractive guy next door, figuratively and literally. It was easy to tell he does everything with purpose and excluded this natural confidence and charisma. Not to mention he was a guy you could rely on like most people already do.

Then we have Soonyoung, the man full of life. If you could describe him in one word, it’d be ‘crazy’. This was the same guy that commits to being a tiger but calling it his ‘brand, and let’s not forget his astrology chart, which you’re not gonna get into. He’s fucking hot, don’t get it wrong, but also the strangest man you’ve ever met on planet Earth. 

Now finally Chan, the cute man sitting next to you, eyes coated in nectar-like sweetness with a soft smile on his face. He’s always has been a sweet guy since you met him. He’s amicable and seemingly harmless, which made people feel comfortable around him. You can’t go wrong with Chan.

You visibly ponder, licking your lips, before answering.

“Fuck…Soonyoung, marry…Seungcheol, and I guess kill Chan? But I can’t kill him,” you look to the man mentioned and interlock arms, “so, I’ll just have to kiss him.”

You press your lips against his cheek, laughing emitting from onlookers. A warm blush spreads across his cheeks and he looks down at his feet. His smile turns bittersweet. “Great. Nice.”

“You’ll always be my favorite buddy, Chan. I could never kill you,” you coo, a finger lightly stroking at his red cheeks before he lightly shoves you away, rolling his eyes, and grabs another beer.

You initially don’t think much of it, it was only a dumb ice breaker after all. However, that event had his friends teasing him the rest of the night (but what’s new) and Chan was being the joke of the night, while Seungcheol was poking fun at you instead. Every chance he got, he’s saying things like he’s ‘waiting on that proposal,’ or ‘should I get started on the wedding planning?’ And Soonyoung seems to be a step behind the older gentleman, playfully suggesting what things he does make him ‘fuckable.’ He could be only cutting up limes for shots, or posing on the back of a wall asking, ‘this do anything for you?’ Attention was on you mainly, as expected, but that didn’t warrant the number of times you had gotten flustered.

Nonetheless, everything that night seemed all in good fun,  a birthday worth having. At some point in the night, Soonyoung passed out on the couch, while everyone else was preparing to leave. Seungcheol offers to help clean up, it was very neighborly of him, which you always welcome. Chan, in the midst of all this, was nowhere to be found and it caused you to worry, calling his phone with no answer. You weren’t apart from him long typically in these social situations.

“Thanks for helping out, Cheol.”

“Anything for my betrothed,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you lightly elbow, “It’s late, I’m gonna wash up to sleep. Just make sure to lock the door when you leave, okay.”

He nods off your request and lets you venture off to your room. He pays it no mind, finishing off some dishes, unable to hear anything underneath the sound of the sink’s running water.

On the other end of your closed bedroom door, you make a startled expression once you realize what, or should you say who was behind it. “Chan? I was wondering where you were.”

He softly scoffs from the mattress, slouching in his spot, looking as if he waited for your return. “Really? Didn’t seem to think you had a second thought about me.”

“Of course I did.” You walk up towards him and pull him up from the mattress by the arm, smiling at him. “I can’t help but think about you all the time.”

“But you’d kill me, hmm?” He tears his wrist away from your touch, drawing his face closer to yours, “That’s not what you said last week up against my bedroom window.”

You purse your lips in amusement, remembering that day all too clearly. It was moving day for him and out of all people, he called you. He mentioned needing a few boxes brought in and everyone else seemed busy, little did you know, he had other plans that night with you. Those plans are how many times he can get you to cum within an hour, or how pretty you look pressed up against a clean glass window. 

“But they don’t know that.” You retort.

“You embarrassed me out there, you know,” His eyes narrow at you, ignoring your attempts of pandering as you flirtatiously tease up his arm, “The friend-zoning, the familial kiss, the rejection, and in front of all our friends. I didn’t like it.”

You softly laugh, fingering through his pretty brown hair, “I’m sorry, but it'd be obvious if I said one of the other two. Could you find in your heart to forgive me?”

He turns away his eyes, feigning thought. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I could…doesn't mean I will.”

He tugs on you similarly the way you did to kiss him, only this time his lips locked on lips, and his skin was noticeably flushed from alcohol and lust. Your eyes naturally flutter shut, arms instinctively reach up for his face, cupping his warm cheeks. You melt in his touch, brazen and ruthless, your arousal basically dripping a hot stain in your underwear as his teeth pull at your bottom lip deliciously.

He strokes your sides, hands drawing the curve of your posterior and clutching in a hearty squeeze, a whimper leaving your lips. You feel the corner of his lips quirk up, eyes pressing into you with a smug expression. “Are you like this with all your ‘buddies’?”

You shake your head with a cheeky smile on your face, “No.”

He hums amused, lips drawing close to your ear, his decadent voice pricking your ear. “I want you to fall apart for me. Can you do that, hmm? Can you do that for Daddy?”

Your abdomen tenses up, a sultry moan escaping you, “Yes, daddy.”

“Such a good girl,” He draws out.

He pulls the zipper down from your dress, pulling off the straps from your shoulders, chuckling against your skin, as your outfit hits the floor. You giggle as he hoists you up, your legs locking around his waist, meeting his lips again more feverishly than the last. He runs you on top of your dresser, parting your legs to stand between them.

“Your turn,” You reach for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side of the room, “That’s better. Happy birthday to me…”

Hand trailing over Chan’s chest, down his torso, tracing over every dent of his abs, making you lightheaded and giddy. You pull on the top of his jeans, meeting him in a kiss, they become the next article of clothing to come off, following his boxer briefs and grasp his length. His nose nuzzles your cheek, hot breath on your skin, and his digits press up against the fabric of your panties to dip in the wet spot and plunge into your clothed arousal. You pleasantly gasp, hips jerking in his direction, one hand combing through his hair.

“Oh, daddy…”

His smile grows wide. “You’re so wet already, sweet girl.”

He allows himself a taste, humming at the familiar flavor, and pushes past your underwear to gradually thrust them inside, watching uneven breaths escape your lips. He revels in your whimpers, pushing them deeper inside you. The airiness of your voice was additive, but what was more addictive in the look on your face when he sees you close. “That feels good, huh? You like my fingers fucking you like this?”

You were practically vibrating in your seat, and your back arches in distress, gripping the edge of the dresser, “God, yes…You’re so good to me, daddy.”

It was a matter of time before his cock would replace his fingers, swiping your taste on your tongue for you to sample. Moaning, your lips wrap around their slender length, your arousal coating the surface of your tongue and inside your mouth. You hold him by the wrist, his knuckles swallow inside you before his very eyes, sucking your neck dry from his hands as he fucks his fingers into your burning hot entrance.

You whimper into his palm before he decides to pull it away and wrap it around your throat, meanwhile, his cock finds entry in your warmth, your fluttering walls welcoming him. Your hips falling slightly below the dresser's flat surface, you gasp for air. Your vision blurs as much as your abdomen clenches, submitting to Chan’s rough touch. He leverages you by holding you up the back of your knee while your other leg hung over his shoulder, snapping his hips back into you with such ferocity, a throaty moan falling short of every thrust. He sounded scrumptious, like fresh honey oozing out of its comb, you wanted to lick every part of him.

“What do we have here?” 

Your helping hand for the party has finally found your helping hand in bed (or this case the dresser), rutting in you like two rabbits in mating season. Chan doesn’t stop his pace, only a smile growing wider on his face. “I guess the jig is up.”

“You’re just gonna keep fucking her while I’m here, kid?”

Chan only grows cockier when you show no sign of change, still moaning his name, “Why shouldn’t I, she sure likes it. Don’t you, filthy birthday girl?”

You nod, “Y-yes, daddy.”

Seungcheol looks impressed, crossing his arms together, he can’t help but enjoy the view. The times he imagined you looking a mess in front of him went on but no image in his head could do justice to the real thing, even if it was Chan’s dick inside you. Your sweat made your beautiful body glisten under the lamp lights, your pretty little pants endearing as they steadily leave your lips, and your messy hair so damn pullable that made his dick twitch.

“Need some help?” He offers nonchalantly.

Chan looks back at the older man for the first time, almost barking back a no, but instead takes a moment to consider and turns to you. His eyes flit back to you, holding you by your face, hips unbearably enthusiastic. “What do you say, huh, you want two cocks in you? Hmm, is that what you want?”

You choke up on your drool, tears already running down your faces as you respond in a hard nod, then proceed to be thrown back on the mattress to have Seungcheol witness your lewd form in its entirety. His hands go to the tent in his pants, palming himself anxiously. He knew you were beautiful beyond words, but there was no other beauty than the way you were almost naked. Your arms come up to your chest, shielding your stiff peaks but at the same time emphasizing the roundness of your breasts.

“W-what?” You ponder up at him, your pretty eyes looking back in a way that made Seungcheol want to scream. “I’m a mess, a-aren’t I?”

“A very pretty mess,” Seungcheol reiterates.

“Of course she is.” Chan sits beside you on the bed, pushing hair away from your face and pressing his lips to your ear, “How about you get his dick wet first, birthday girl?”

“Okay,” you answer back eagerly, trudging forward and pulling Seungcheol by his belt and carefully removing it from him.

Seungcheol gives a look of astonishment, a quick glance thrown to see pride written all over the younger man’s face before turning back to you, already pulling down his pants and exposing his cock slapping on your face.

“Wow.” You gasp, wrapping your hand around his girth, feeling his weight.

“Think you can take it, princess?”

Your heart pitter-patters at the name Seungcheol gives you and you let out a hearty ‘yes.’ Chan stays behind you, hands cupping your breasts, fondling your flesh, he becomes a little devil in your ear. “What are you waiting for then?”

You inch closer to Seungcheol, his angry tip on the center of your tongue. You drag your pink muscle over his shaft, tracing over every bulging vein, hearing him suck in his breath. Your other hand cradles his balls, kneading them lightly in your palm. When you push your head over his length, your mouth coats its surface area, feeling like a new, yet familiar world to him.

“S-shit.” His hips twitch forward, hands against his hips.

You bob down to the base, filling your cheeks and stretching your lips. He feels your saliva dribbling down his thigh, seeing the same scene happen over your chin, while your throat takes him with a gutty grit, taking all of him. When you gag slightly, having him almost pulls away in concern, but Chan takes initiative and combs through your hair, slamming you down on Seungcheol’s crotch, a shit-eating grin on his face. The older man almost doubles over, hand firmly planted on your shoulder in anguish.

“Mmh…god…that–”

“Look at you taking his dick like a perfect little slut,” Chan exclaims before mouthing over your neck, love bites adorning your soft skin, “you can’t wait to be fucking filled with cock, can’t you?”

You lacked the ability to be verbal, only vibrating a confirmation around Seungcheol’s cock, the man shuddering in the process. “Princess…”

Chan's hands snake around to your clit, rubbing it with his digits, his firm chest pressing into your sweaty back, the shaking in your body evident. “Take it deeper, slut.”

Tears burn your eyes, hands lifting to press behind Seungcheol, warming his cock in your mouth until you can’t breathe. The said man lets out his share of obscenities, his hands on either side of your head, fucking your mouth at a desperate man’s pace until he feels it swells well past its limit, “Fuck. Fuck!”

He cums hard, long, and deep. The trail of ivory slides down your throat with no warning, Seungcheol fills you to the brim, even overflowing to the corner of your lips. “So…good…”

“Shit, you lasted a lot shorter than I expected, old man.” Chan smugly grins.

The older man tries catching his breath, but not without letting the other man hear it. “Shut up…Chan.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

The voice resonates from the doorway, a barely awake Soonyoung blinks at the scene in front of him in confusion, adjusting to the change of lighting from the pitch-black living room. “Huh, what are you eating, y/n? A hoagie?”

“Oh, god.” Chan groans, bowing his head. 

Seungcheol couldn’t pull out of you soon enough, the remainder of his cum swallowed up by you in the process. You picked up the courage to be the first one to ask, “How long have you been standing there, Soonie?” 

“Not sure…wait. Are you guys having sex?”

Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly cringing. “Yes, Soonyoung.”

“Do you want to join,” you suggest, exchanging looks with both men already involved.

Their eyes initially express reluctance but eventually, they nod in agreement. Chan whispers an “alright,” in your ear before kissing the side of your face. Seungcheol being still very fresh to their current situation had no complaints, nor was he in the place to. They all redirect back to the intruder, and you ask him again. “Do you want to join us, Soonyoung?”

A pink tinge on his cheeks as your naked body slips from the bed gracefully, sliding down your underwear to the ground. “Join? Can I do that?”

His eyes locked on your prowess, your soft laughter sending off butterflies in his stomach as your hands crawls up to his face, stroking it endeared, “Yes, you can. Will you?”

“P-please…”

You guide him by the hand and bring him over to the bed, joining the rest. You slip the worn-out muscle tee over his head to toss it aside. Once you meet his lips, your hands run through his slept-in hair and melt against you like a dream. You were like taffy, sweet yet salty, no doubt from what he witnessed earlier, but he didn’t care. Forgetting the others around him, he pulls you in his lap, your wet cunt rubbing into his denim jeans as his hands take care of your body, collecting its warmth.

Seungcheol simply watches, running his hand down his body and stroking himself, feeling the tension build back up in cock. Chan joins him from across the bed. Licking his lips, he locks on the way your hips grind against Soonyoung’s, blood rushing towards his cheeks, wondering whether he was turned on imagining it was him or that it was genuinely fun watching.

Your bare skin meshes against Soonyoung, inhaling the stretch of alcohol and his expensive cologne etched into his skin, “Mmh…Soonie…”

“Shit,” the man moans, holding your bare ass in his hands, “I really wanted to do this. You have no idea.”

“You came at a good time too, Soonyoung. We were just about to fuck her together,” Chan doesn’t forget to mention, “She was ready to be filled up with two cocks, what’s one more?”

Soonyoung grins against your lips. “Three cocks in our pretty baby huh…I’m certainly glad I woke up.”

The men strip down to their birthday suits. Chan, taking less time than the others, utilizes this opportunity to retrieve the lube you kept in the drawer of your bedside table. Seungcheol kisses you for the first time that night, sensually stroking your back and parting your hair, while Soonyoung lips attach to your breasts, feeling your nipples grow hard on his tongue as he cradles them. It really hits you what’s happening when Chan squirts the cold lube on the center of your folds, rubbing it between his fingers, up in your warmth, before sliding down to prep your other entrance. 

His middle finger carefully tests the entryway, teasing the outer edge, before the lube lets him slide in and adjusts to your grip. Your moans were hard to suppress when he playfully slid them in and out and shot them deeper inside when you ask for more, to which he can’t help but laugh. “Cute little slut, taking it up your ass so well for us.”

He tucks in another digit, curling it inside you, ramming it, and preparing you for every opportunity.

You flex your fingers and toes, “Please Chan, I’m r-ready.”

“Are you sure?” He teases.

“Yes, please…”

Chan obliges, letting you go with a gentle thumb to the opening. They all position themselves, having discussed it moments ahead of time. Soonyoung has his back on the bed with your back hovering inches above his chest. He fingers the hole Chan had gotten ready and made sure it was adjusted to his liking, squeegeeing the excess lube. You twitch on top of him, finally feeling the tip of his cock circle at your entrance and slowly make its way inside you. Your jaw drops open, his member suffocates between your walls.

“Christ…” Soonyoung gasps, “You feel heavenly, Y/n.”

He holds you up from the back of your knees, spreading you wide and pretty, and taking a slow, deep stroke inside you. You let out a low growl, throwing your head back, and reveling in Soonyoung’s gentle pace. “Thats…so…good…”

Chan takes care of himself with aid of the scene, spitting in his hand, and his cock grows to his touch. “You look so fucking good stretched out.”

He approaches you, falling to his knees, and buries his face in your vacant warmth, still stroking himself. He licks stripes up your core, moistening his lips, as the tip of his nose brushes against your clit. Your stomach sucks in, ecstasy enflaming your core. “Fuck, daddy…”

Chan grows only harder and devours you faster, his tenor voices aches inside you, feeding his everlasting lust. Soonyoung takes his time with you still, hands now falling to your thighs, spreading you apart for Chan’s convenience, his hips gradually ramping up the speed. 

Seungcheol is respectful in watching, only inching forward when you beckon him closer with moans on your tongue, mouth still wide and welcoming. He takes advantage of your invite, knees meeting the bed, reuniting his length with your mouth, and seeing you take him just as hard (if not harder) as before. Hands land in your hair, straining your neck but filling out of your throat, that glorious sensation coming back to Seungcheol almost immediately. “Pretty mouth…Princess…take me good, hmm..”

“That’s so hot, fuck, what the fuck?” Soonyoung was being overwhelmed in the best way possible, bouncing you harder in his lap, leaving the man with his mouth full smiling with less work to do.

Chan smacks your center fold with the tip of his fingers, feeling you flinch under his touch, and he does it again and again. 

“Daddy hurtss…but…feels good…” You can’t help you mumble with Seungcheol’s cock pressing to your lips.

“S-shit, you’re gonna make me cum in my hand,” Chan shutters, honest to his word, “bad girl, but I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

He picks himself off the ground, his cock visibly furious. He rubs your slit with the tip, landing a lash to your clit, your sound of ache music to his ears, before he parts your folds and slides inside you, joining Soonyoung. He presses your legs back, Chan rocks in you in a steady rhythm opposite to Soonyoung. “Mm, daddy’s cock with Soonie’s, l-love so…m-much…”

“Such a—ah—cockslut. T-that good, hmm? You like me fucking you with Soonyoung inside you, hmm?”

“Y-y—Mmh..”

“Say it, fucking tell me you love our cocks splitting you open.”

“I-I love your c-cocks split-t-ting me o-open.”

You clench your body in anxiously, taking both cocks the best you can, but your body can only hold back so much cum.

“Look, who’s desperate to cum?” Chan observes, “Well, you can cum all you want, we’re not stopping.”

Chan is a man of his word. Even when your hips shake sporadically in front of them all, no one's pace falters. You were filled in all ends, an eternal loop of euphoria, the pleasant ache of your muscles easily manageable as long as you don’t lose this sensation. 

Seungcheol ruts your mouth with his eyes shut, only hearing the work your mouth puts in and pulls out when feels you’ve had enough. Your slobber prints your cheeks, a tired look in your eyes, but a manic smile on your face. He wipes some saliva away with his thumb, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’ll be sure to be slow at first, okay?”

Heart racing, you nod at his message, eyes drifting to see him place himself between you and Chan. Knees planted in the mattress beside either side of Soonyoung, he eases his length in your entrance on top of Chan’s, and unearthly sound follows coming from all around. Not a dry eye in the room, Seungcheol takes your calves and pressed them against his shoulders, squeezing with Chan in an uneven rhythm. 

“FUCK!” He bites into your leg, muffling his groans, filling you deep, “take me too, you can handle it. I believe in you.”

You scream in pleasure, your holes being fucked and filled, nodding your head forth and back. “Fuck, yes, like that, please…so full…”

The way it feels like everything at once, you can help but be overfilled with pride. You couldn’t describe in words how it felt, only process the event enough to scream and moan.

“That’s it, take us. Never have three cocks fuck your hole like this,” Chan points out through his sweaty pants.

Soonyoung simply groans deeply in your ear, snaking his hand over your clit, pinching the slick skin, your moans only growing louder and louder, and he then sticks his digits in your moisture, as if you were full enough. “You’re so talented, Y/n. Should’ve fucked you sooner…”

The sounds echoing in the room were like a broken record, waves of euphoria played over and over. It didn’t matter how long it took or how many positions were involved, you felt your heart rate taking ups and downs up they eventually grew tired.

“I’m gonna cum in you, that okay,” Seungcheol requests.

“Y-yes, d-daddy…” A blush deepens the surface of Seungcheol’s cheeks upon hearing that.

On the other hand, hearing his title being misused, Chan gets ticked off. He fuck harder with remorse, reminding you only one person can hold such a title, all while Seungcheol drops his load inside, coating you in snow white, grunting in you as his full length pushed the cum deep inside you until he finally pulls away. You open your mouth again, nonverbally asking to finish him off where he has before and he lets you, stroking what's left against your tongue.

Soonyoung follows soon after, his hips losing patience, “C-cum, in your ass, baby?” 

“Yes, please, Soonyoung…” You answer sweetly and he wastes no time, holding his cum deep in your ass after shooting hot cum in your backside until it’s dripping out of the edge.

“Good little cumslut, should I give you my gift too?”

Chan doesn’t even let you answer, encouraged by your startled, shrieks. Finally, his cum spurts from his cock, mixing itself with Seungcheol remnants and pulling out to spray on your torso and fall against your flushed skin, showing you once again he never planned on giving you any mercy. You fall limp against the mattress, ivory honey trailing on your chest, stomach, cunt, and ass. The two of the older men lay beside you, fatigued as you were. Chan tears away from the scene at the moment to come back with wet towels. He tosses one to each of the men before coming to sit at the edge of your feet, wiping away the mess like he always does.

“Should’ve let you lick it up, but fuck it. It’s your birthday,” Chan jesters with a soft grin.

“I would’ve enjoyed it though,” you butt in.

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, but I like taking care of you.”

Soonyoung and Seungcheol grin upon hearing that, finding their younger friend endearing even after such an unfathomable event, both glancing to see you smile at his words. The intimacy piques both men’s curiosity, erupting all kinds of questions.

Seungcheol shifts his gaze from both you and Chan, smiling knowingly, “You two do this a lot?” 

“And you've been hiding this from us for how long?” Soonyoung chimes in with a cheeky grin, ready to tease you both.

“How did this even happen?”

“Chan’s meaner than I thought, Y/n, did you know that? Is that what you like about him?”

“Chan? Chan? When I lived next door?”

“Seriously, how long was I asleep?”

“I’ve never cummed so much in my life. How the fucked did you do that?”

“Can you guys call me about the next orgy?”

The opposing duo laughs, finding the situation amusing already. Chan squeezes himself between you and Seungcheol, nuzzling his face in your neck as he cuddles you, “Well, ‘buddy’ are you gonna answer their questions?”

You roll your eyes and clear your throat, taking your time in answering, still breathless, “I’m definitely calling you both over again.”

[nucleo-bang-tan]

Grayscale Pt.2 | JJK

Pairing/s: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Cheating AU, highschool sweethearts, first love

Rating/s: No detailed explicit content, but wouldn't recommend it for minors.

Warning/s: SH!!, Major heartbreak (duh), Jungkook is literally a liar and a dirty, dirty cheat (not irl, he's an angel), mentions of sex with another woman, lmk if I'm forgetting anything.

A/N: Please leave comments, I would love to hear from you guys. Critique my writing and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, really appreciate it.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Gaeul never wanted this. She never wanted to feel like such a disappointment. But whenever she was with you, she felt like one.

Ever since she transferred to your school, she was no longer the center of attraction. You were so, so kind and so patient with everyone, even with her.

You had helped Gaeul with adjusting to her new school even when you barely knew her.

At her previous school, Gaeul was the top student, and top athlete. But when her father succumbed to his illnesses, she had no option but to move in with her uncle.

The change of pace affected her studies and performance a lot but Gaeul could always count on you to help her with anything.

She would never admit that to some extent, she was jealous of you. Jealous of the attention you received.

"Hey, umm... Gaeul, was it?" She was caught off guard by her crush, Jeon Jungkook.

She tried her best to act nonchalant. Maybe he was trying to finally ask her out.

She fiddled with the cuffs of her school uniform, "Yeah? What's up?"

The anticipation was building up in her belly, or was it just the butterflies he gave her?

"You're friends with Y/n, right?" The mention of your name almost made her lose her cool.

Ofcourse you two were friends, not close ones, but friends nevertheless.

"Y-yeah, what about it?" She tried to contain her distaste towards you. Yet again, you took the attention, but this time, from the person Gaeul wanted the most.

"Does she... she doesn't have a boyfriend, right? I'm asking for a friend." He said.

She sighed, "She doesn't. Her parents would never let her. They'd kill her."

Gaeul could see Jungkook's face light up.

He smiled, "So, it's her parents? She can't have a boyfriend because of her parents?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"So would you do me a favour?" Jungkook asked.

"Sure, what is it?" Maybe it was her only chance to get closer to Jungkook, she wasn't going to risk it.

"Bring her to the basketball game this evening. I- my friend will handle the rest."

Gaeul wasn't dumb, she knew this wasn't for his friend. But whatever, she thought, you were probably too stuck up to date someone like Jungkook anyway.

Jungkook was really easy-going and shy and always loved to beat your ass in a match.

You on the other hand loved confident guys and were competitive. It wasn't surprising to know that half the school had a crush on you and Jungkook was among them.

But there was no way you would like Jungkook, right? Right...?

Oh, Gaeul was so wrong. She realised it way too late when she saw you two kissing in the gymnasium.

So after she balled her eyes out for a day or two, she decided it's enough. She was tired of you being better than her.

"Gaeul!" You approached her and hugged her.

"Hey, Y/n." She feigned a smile.

"I cannot thank you enough. You unknowingly helped me and Jungkook a lot."

She realised that she could one-up you. You were hot, for sure. But Gaeul had experience, she could seduce Jungkook easily.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Would you stop? I'm not telling Y/n about this because you are her best friend. Think about her." Jungkook had pulled Gaeul aside. "Plus, don't you have a boyfriend? Second one this month?"

Your friend group was at a club celebrating your nineteenth birthday. You were finally legal and Jungkook decided he'd teach you a thing or two about drinking.

She put a hand on the man's chest and stepped closer, "They would never know. Plus, you have your needs. I'm sure you won't be satisfied by her."

"Shut up, Gaeul. Stop trying to make moves on me, it's not going to work." He walked back to the bar where you were getting a bit too tipsy.

Your best friend watched as he led you outside the club, probably to get you back to your shared apartment.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

But one faithful night for Gaeul, was when you were sick and she found Jungkook studying in the college library alone.

Jungkook didn't notice her until she sat beside him, her skimpy skirt riding up catching his eye.

He cleared his throat and whispered, "What do you want?"

She leaned forward and whispered back, "You know what I want." And placed a hand on his well-built thigh.

But surprisingly, he didn't react to her touch as usual—like it was poison.

He was extremely stressed due to his finals. You being sick didn't help.

"Why do you do this?" He asked eyeing her legs.

"Maybe because I can love you more than Y/n could ever dream of."

He raised his eyebrow, "Trust me, I don't even wanna know. I can't do this right now, just leave."

Her hand trailed up, "Maybe you could use a little stress relief?"

Jungkook tried to make sense of it all, why did he do it? He loved you more than anything, more than he could ever imagine loving anyone. Yet, he found himself buried inside some other girl.

When he returned home, he hoped you were asleep because he was sure he couldn't face you. But you weren't, you stayed up, waiting for him.

He cried in your arms, muttering around a hundred sorry's. He never said why he was apologising. But you kept saying you loved him through it all which made it worse for him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook got up from her bed, finding his shirt, "We can't keep doing this, I-"

"You give in to me all the time, Jungkook. I'm starting to feel bad for Y/n." Gaeul passed him his underwear.

"You're literally the worst person in the world and not to mention the best actor." He slung his bag over his shoulder and looked at her naked form for what he promised himself was the last time.

She smirked, "I'd do it all for love."

"Fuck you."

And fuck her is what he did over the years. Over and over and over again. He knew it was strictly physical for him but for her, he was the love of her life.

He decided to get married to you and maybe then Gaeul would stop. But it was him, he was the problem. He couldn't stop himself.

He knew you were more than enough for him. He could give you all the love he had with him then why?

He gave up at some point, he gave up trying to be loyal to you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Jungkook?" You sat beside him on the couch.

"Yeah, baby?" He looked up from his phone, a smile still evident on his features. No doubt, he was texting her.

Jungkook noticed the change in your behaviour and appearance. You didn't wear his hoodies, the colour under your eyes became darker by the day, you rejected cuddles and never even asked or let him have sex with you, which was weird since the both of you had similar drives.

And the worst of it all, he didn't see you smile during these days.

So now, he was a bit surprised when he realised you initiated a conversation.

He placed his phone aside and slid closer to you. He didn't offer you any hugs or cuddles because he knew something was off.

"Eunwoo's gonna come over to help me with something." Your voice cracked despite your efforts to be stable and calm about it.

He smiled, "Yeah? Sure, we can have him over for as long as you'd like. But why can't I help you?"

"It's nothing. He'll be here in a few hours." You got up and tried to leave. Much to your dismay, your husband held your wrist to stop you.

"Are you alright, baby?" The question almost made you scoff. But you didn't. You wanted to scream at yourself because you didn't scoff at him and leave.

Instead, you melted into his touch and smiled.

"I'm- yeah, I'm good." You said as he pulled you onto his lap. The feeling was so familiar, almost like it was second nature to you.

You wanted to slap him, yell at him, throw a tantrum. But you didn't.

You sighed as your body softened. He caressed your hair, it was an instinct.

"Tell me." He whispered while kissing the top of your head.

You gulped, this was bad. This was so, so bad. You never wanted to be in this position with him today. You should have left. But you didn't.

Instead, you let him kiss you. You were human afterall, how could you stop yourself from loving your own husband?

It felt like home.

He felt like home.

But you weren't his.

Your own best friend could provide him with more comfort than you could.

You sighed into the kiss, letting him take over.

Just one more time wouldn't hurt, right? Letting him take care of you just once more? You begged yourself not to fall into him even if it was the last time. But you couldn't help yourself.

You broke the kiss, eyes tearing up, "Jungkook..."

"What is it, baby?" He pulled you into a hug.

It took you a few seconds to calm your breaths, "Am I enough?"

He pulled back to look you straight in the eyes, lying to you was a second nature to him at this point, "Yeah, baby. I would never want anyone but you."

You smiled, "You sure?"

Jungkook couldn't help but feel as if something, heck, a lot was off about your question.

He should have been truthful, he should have been honest at the time, maybe you would have stayed, "I'd never lie to you."

You couldn't help but chuckle a bit at his response making him confused. There was no way you found out anything about him and Gaeul, right?

You got up, "I'll just be in the bedroom..."

It was so casual, as if you didn't know anything. It was so uncanny for Jungkook. As if it was a normal day for you two. But it was anything but normal.

After a while, one of your college friends, Eunwoo rang the doorbell. You didn't even need to think twice before opening it.

Your friend was fuming to say the least and mind you, Eunwoo was never even angry.

"Where is he?" He asked.

"Eunwoo, I just... let's just leave." You said giving him space to come inside the house.

"Leave? You want to just leave after what he did?" He asked, frowning.

You sighed, eyes in a constant state of glistening, "I don't want to-"

"Hey, man. What's up?" Your husband walked in, greeting your friend.

But instead of some kind words, Eunwoo was quick to greet him with his fist to Jungkook's jaw.

The hit was so hard and sudden, it made him fall onto the floor.

"Jungkook!" You gasped trying to get to him but Eunwoo didn't let you. He held you behind him, protecting you like Jungkook was a wild animal and your friend was your guard.

Your husband was stunned but didn't stay down for long. He wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand.

"You befriend my wife, come to my house and hit me? What the fuck was that?"

Eunwoo chuckled bitterly, "You don't deserve to call her your wife. That was for what you did."

Surely, you didn't know about Gaeul and him. But the way Eunwoo just hit him told him something else.

"I don't want this, let's leave, please." You tried to reason with him.

Jungkook looked visibly confused to which Eunwoo replied, "I'm taking her to my house."

"W-What do you mean?" Jungkook's eyes caught yours.

"Do I really need to explain, Jeon? I'm talking about Gaeul and you. I can't let Y/n stay here with you."

All the colour on Jungkook's face instantly turned pale, the only contrast being his busted lip.

"Y/n, it's not- I- no..." He looked at you for anything, a single word but all you did was look away, tears threatening to fall.

"Don't even try to explain, she's leaving with me."

Jungkook blinked, processing it all. You couldn't leave him. There was no way he was letting you leave with someone else.

"Y/n, please hear me out... it was nothing, I tried to-" He was cut off by another hit to his jaw making him stumble backwards.

This time you didn't bother to look at him. You knew Eunwoo was holding himself back for you. You couldn't bear seeing Jungkook hurt like that.

"You actually have no shame, huh? Stop trying to explain anything. I know, she knows."

Jungkook walked towards you, trying to touch you, he was already crying. But Eunwoo didn't let him near you.

"Please, Y/n, listen to me. I- please..." His voice came out coarse and his breath, bated.

Eunwoo looked disgusted at him, after what he did, he should not even have a chance to explain himself. But Jungkook fell onto his knees, looking up at you.

"I beg you, Y/n. Don't leave me. Please. I love you. I love you more than anything."

But you couldn't bear to look at him, instead, you looked at Eunwoo and silently whispered to him, "Shall we leave?" Your tears betrayed your commands.

Your friend took your hand in his, and led you away from Jungkook, away from the love of your life. Away from everything you ever had.

Jungkook knew he couldn't stop you. Not when you had your friend with you, not when he knew you didn't want to stay.

But he still rushed to you, and hugged your legs, "I can't do this without you, Y/n. Please, please.... don't do this to me."

You looked down and caressed his hair, all you could do was smile, "I love you, Jungkook. You are my everything, but I'm not yours."

"No, no, Y/n. I don't want anything or anyone but you. I promise you the world."

"You did that 11 years ago as well, but look at us now." You kept caressing his hair, it felt so familiar.

Jungkook knew there was nothing he could do, "No, I-"

"Get off of her, that's enough."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Gaeul entered the house in a rush, "Jungkook?"

The said man was lying practically lifeless on the couch. He didn't even bother to see or acknowledge her.

"Jungkook, hey baby. Finally, she left. I heard-"

Jungkook just simply whispered, "Get out..."

"What?"

"Get the fuck out of my house..."

"What's wrong? Aren't you relieved that she left?"

"I don't want to see your face, ever. Just go away before I do something."

Gaeul flinched, "Kookie, come on..."

"I said..." Jungkook yelled at her, "...get the fuck out before I hurt you."

"What did I do?" She backed away.

"What did you do? You ruined everything. And for what? Some high school jealousy? I love her, Gaeul. Never in a million years can I live without her."

She looked annoyed, "After all these years? You still love her? Then why the fuck would you fuck me? Say all those pretty words to me instead of her?"

Jungkook had no idea why.

He was the one who ruined it all, Gaeul was just a factor. But blaming her made it much less painful than it already was.

"I never loved you, Gaeul. I've always loved Y/n. You have never been enough for me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have always known it's going to be her, I would never want to be with you."

Gaeul blinked, trying to process it all. She knew Jungkook didn't love her but saying it out loud in this way?

She had originally planned to ruin your relationship as a challenge for herself, but along the way, she fell in love. And Jungkook always ignored it.

She always assumed it was because he didn't want a messy break up and loved the thrill of it all.

"Jungkook..."

He closed his eyes and covered his eyes with his forearm, not wanting to see or hear anymore from her.

"So that's it? We're over?" She looked at him for a denial.

"How delusional can you be? We never were anything."

She chuckled, "And that is why you ruined your marriage?"

"And what about you? Feeling better about your insecure self?" He replied.

"Jungkook, listen to me. We can start over, leave her behind..."

And that is how Jungkook ended up throwing her out of the house.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A knock on your door woke you up. You had no idea when you fell asleep, exhausted from all the happenings and crying.

Every moment felt like a burden to you. Every breath felt heavy. You had poured everything in for Jungkook and now you were completely drained.

You told yourself repeatedly, it was not your fault, not even a bit. But you couldn't deny that you tried to ignore all the bright red signs.

You sat up, your arms barely helped. The brush of your shirt against your stomach burned because of the fresh cuts you gave yourself.

You were living at Eunwoo's house for the past 2 weeks. He had been really supportive through every single bit of this ordeal. He even let you sleep on the bed while he rested on the couch.

Staying with him felt really comfortable, he made sure you had everything you needed. But it reminded you of Jungkook, and how he never let anything bother you.

"Hey... are you alright?" He said, entering.

You smile, "Much better I think. Cried more than I should."

"I uh- I'm sorry for this but..."

"But what?"

"Someone..." He sighed, "Jungkook is here to talk to you."

You looked down at your sleeve-clad hands on your lap, you knew this time was coming. You knew you had to talk to him. Forgiveness was not an option but talking would help a lot with the closure.

You had blocked Jungkook a couple of days after you left. He never stopped calling, not even for a single minute, hoping you'd pick up. Everytime he did, your heart physically ached for him.

But despite this, you weren't sure if you could talk to him without breaking down.

You weren't sure how you survived this long.

You didn't want to survive this long.

"I'll stay here while you two talk, is that fine?" Eunwoo asked.

You took a deep breath. You had thought this through, "I wanna be alone with him."

"Are you sure, I don't mind staying here."

"It's going to be fine, Eunwoo."

Your friend nodded and stepped aside and left letting your ex-lover step inside.

You could barely recognise him. He looked extremely dehydrated and starved. His cheeks no longer held their plumpness. His eyes only seemed to hold life the moment they were laid on you. He looked drunk. But you could tell he made an effort to look presentable to you.

The two of you mirrored each other when your eyes met. Jungkook, however, was the first to let his tears flow.

"Y/n..." He tested the waters by slowly walking towards the bed you were sitting on.

He kneeled down near the edge and extended his arms to touch you. But you didn't let him and it didn't take a genius to understand why.

"S-Say what you want to, Jungkook." You mentally cursed at yourself for stuttering. But how were you supposed to stay calm?

Jungkook had a whole speech prepared. He wanted to apologise for everything he did, everything he lied about and assurr you that he'd never do it again.

But all he could mutter up was, "I'm sorry, Y/n..."

"How long?" You asked. You were always a calm person, and always relied on Jungkook to stand up for you.

He gulped at your stern tone, "5 years..."

The crack in your heart could be heard by him. Tears were long out of your control.

"Y-You... for 5 fucking years?" You cried, "You were with that bitch for 5 years? Jungkook, did you ever even love me?"

"I love you, Y/n, please believe me on this. It was strictly physical with Gaeul."

You scoffed, "Does that even matter!? You fucked my best friend for 5 years, Jungkook. You fucked her when I was right beside you two."

His eyes widened, he had no idea you were awake at the time. He looked at you with pure pain in his eyes. Jungkook wasn't much of an empath but he could feel everything when he was with you.

"If you loved me..." You sobbed, "...you would've told me what the hell was wrong with me. Wasn't I enough?"

"No, no, Y/n, baby. You are more than enough, I-"

Jungkook's eyes landed on your wrist where your sleeve had ridden up. He looked more heartbroken than ever. As if the ground under his feet suddenly decided it didn't want to hold him up.

"Y/n... y-you started again?"

It took you a while but when you realised what he was referring to, you quickly covered your whole body with a blanket, still feeling as if it wasn't enough.

"Please..." He bowed down with his head on the edge of the bed, "...please forgive me, I- I never wanted this to happen..."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, "But it did happen, Jungkook. And I can never forgive you for it. Maybe if it was a one night thing, heck, even a few couple of times. But we're talking 5 years."

He continued crying with his head down. You reached out to touch the back of his hand, which was held in a fist.

He immediately relaxed at your action.

"You humiliated me, Jungkook. Y-You keep apologising but it won't change the fact."

He looked up at you, you face kind as ever. He wanted you to be screaming at him, throwing stuff at him, he didn't even mind if you beat the living shit out of him. He hated this, he hated this so much.

He was the cause of what you were going through, he was the exact things he tried all his life to save you from—pain and disappointment.

"Jungkook?" You said, ever-so-calmly. But everything that had happened was evident in your shaky voice.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Do you love me? Even a little bit?"

It didn't take a single millisecond for him to answer, "Never have I ever loved anything more than I love you..."

"Then, let me let go of you." You whispered, bringing his hand to your lips and placing one last small kiss.

He shuddered, trying his best to not let go of your hand, but it slipped.

Everything he ever had, everything he ever wanted, lost.

You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. Jungkook knew you better than you did, he knew what your words signified. It was the end. The end of everything.

The sound of the door opening, Eunwoo speaking, everything seemed drowned out for him.

He didn't say anything either, he just got up and left. He didn't know where to, he didn't have a home, just an empty shell of what used to be.

[peanutpinet]

Hello!! I planned to check on your page in hopes to read some old/new fics and I was so glad I came across your recent one!! Thank you for that. I have a request for the mafia fics you make which are just *chef's kiss*

- Could you have Mark x female reader (same age, or the fem a bit younger) where they are both in a higher status who train the recruits and some of them disrespect the girl?

Please take your time- I know writing consistently can be hard (this is actually my second request and I can't wait for what more you have to bring!) Also I love that your fics are angsty but more fluffy which is what makes them great!!

Respect - Mafia! Mark Lee x Trainee! Fem Reader

A/N: hellow anon, I'm so sorry it took me eons to write this fic and am sorry if it didn't live up to your expectation but I hope you still find it enjoyable. I'm sorry to my fellow nctzens that I haven't been posting as well. Life happened and there's so much going around that has overwhelmed me but I'm slowly trying to work my way through the requests. I promise I'm trying to get your requests written!!

Also, your author went into the Love and Deepspace rabbit hole and well, you can probably guess who's my bias (cough*Sylus*cough). I had a thought of making a Jeno (Sylus) fic but we'll see if it'll come through the light of day but for now, I hope you enjoy my first-ever Mark fic on this blog.

Disclaimer: This is also part of the NCT mafia world/fic that I've created. The NCT members portrayed in this fic are not how they are irl. This is a work of FICTION!

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Mark being a mess, chaotic dreamies, mentions of drug, illegal drug selling, stuck-up annoying kid, no blood (for once in an NCT mafia fic), no torture (another surprise). NOT PROOFREAD!

ENJOY!!

“Hey Melk, don’t forget that you have to take charge of today’s recruits” Haechan shouted at what he likes to call, the ‘leader’ of dream

“You do know that I have a lot going around (literally irl as well, praying for Mark)?” Mark replied, as he was finishing some of the paperwork regarding the events from last weekend’s incident

“How’s Jisung holding up?” Mark asked whereas Haechan sighed seeing his hyung always taking care of his younger members rather than resting and taking care of his own health. “He’s doing fine. He actually got together with the girl which I’m not that surprised considering that he would always steal glances at her whenever he spotted her”

“Yo? Really? I never knew that he was close with the other recruits other than Eunji but I’m happy for him” Mark replied, still not looking away from the amount of paperwork

“Okay. That’s it” Haechan groaned and immediately yanked the paperwork away from Mark who was now yelling at him to give it back. “Lee Donghyuck!! Give it back, I swear if you rip it and make me redo the paperwork…”

“Relax, who said that I’m going to do that” Haechan scoffed right as the door to Mark’s office opened and revealed Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun

“Yo Hyung, you looked really….” Jaemin was about to comment when Mark looked up to his younger members who stopped whatever comment they had and instead pitied their leader. “Really tired. Go take a break from all the paperwork, hyung. Just because you’re the leader of dream, doesn’t mean that you should shoulder all the burden on your own” Jaemin continued, taking pity of their leader and grabbed all the paperwork and folders that were scattered all over the desk

“Guys, I’m really fine. It’s not like I’ve never done this before” Mark tried to reason and his members took all the paperwork out of his reach

“Sure you have but we would prefer that you take care of your health for once. I’m going to let Doyoung and Taeyong-hyung that you need a break. When was the last time you had a proper break? Even Haechan got it” Renjun argued, taking his phone out and called Doyoung

Sighing, Mark leaned back on his chair whilst closing his eyes. “Guys, I promise you that I’m not overworking myself, it’s just that I honestly have no idea what to do even if I get the day off”

“Yea, I know, hyung. It’s getting out of hand. No, we need Taeyong-hyung. Okay, okay. Got it, hyung” Renjun got off the phone and Haechan asked if it was Doyoung-hyung. “Is it Doyoung-hyung? What did he say? Do I get the day off as well?”

Slapping Haechan, Renjun shook his head in annoyance. “Like hell you get the day off. You took a whole week off last month if you’ve forgotten about it. Taeyong-hyung is on his way”

Right as Renjun finished, they all heard a knock on the door and Jeno went to open the door to reveal Taeyong who looked like he just got back from a meeting with the fancy suit that he was wearing but his tie was slightly loose.

“Ehem, hyung, you might have gotten something around on your neck” Chenle teased as Taeyong wiped his neck to see a smear lip stain and brushed it off and went towards Mark

“Mark…” Taeyong called out to his younger member who was also a fellow leader

Looking up at his older hyung, Taeyong could see the dark circles that were under his eyes. Mark’s hair was clearly messy and his skin tone looked ashy. Sighing, Taeyong sat across Mark with his desk separating the two leaders. “Mark, you need to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner but I’ll ask the others to handle the paperwork that you were handling and you can have till the weekend off”

Widening his eyes, Mark shot up from his seat and placed his hands on the desk. “B-but Hyung, I swear I’m okay. Plus, I honestly don’t know what to do with my free time anyway. I just feel that just sleeping around would make me feel guilty. I swear I’ll take it easy”

“See, hyung. We think he completely lost it at this point” Haechan teased only to have Mark get up and smack the younger member

“Haechan, Mark” Taeyong mentioned and the two stopped bickering. “Mark, if you feel that you’re slacking off by taking a few days off then why don’t you help teach some classes? It’s been a while since you last taught a class because of your busy schedules”

“Right, there are some new recruits we’ve been eyeing to be part of the new sub-unit” Mark mentioned

Taeyong then slid the tab across the desk towards Mark who took it and looked through the schedules and recruits that they were training. He also had a look at who was the teaching assistant and his eye was caught on a girl. She was a year younger than him and was recruited around the same time as the 00 liners.

“(y/n)” Mark thought to himself

Of course, how could he have forgotten the girl who was impressive enough to be part of the same batch along with Jeno and Jaemin. She was so impressive that she managed to get to a rank just below the official NCT members. She was also the one that helped save Mark back during their early days as recruits when they had to spy on some influential conglomerate who was secretly corrupting their company’s money and was also cheating on their wife and kids.

“Hello?! Earth to Melk? Mork? Mek?” Haechan called out several times before Mark finally snaps back to reality

“H-huh? Sorry. It really has been a while since I’ve trained some recruits or even get into field exercises” Mark mentioned

Taeyong shook his head, chuckling as he got up from his seat. “Well, it’s a good time to get back into it, don’t you think?”

Taeyong patted Mark’s back as he headed towards the door and was about to leave but he stopped and turned to Mark and the dreamies. “By the way, Haechan, you’re not going to get any leaves for the next 4 months because you took a two whole weeks off in the past 2 months. Oh and Mark, be sure to look out for (y/n) and say hello to her for me”

As Taeyong left, the entire dream group went off with one conversation about how Haechan managed to sneak 2 weeks off and the other was teasing Mark about (y/n).

Time Skip to Training Month

The entire month, NCT would always conduct field lessons where the members would be divided into several groups, teach the new recruits of the actual field work then bring some of the new recruits at the end of the month with them for actual field work at where they can go hands on to what the members typically do while also learn where their strong skills are.

Mark was assigned to teach about spying and decoding some of the most basic conversation that could be a potential clue. Going into the class, the entire classroom seemed to still be wild yet he tried to get them to sit back down.

“Class? Yo guys?” Mark called out yet no one seemed to notice him which reminded him a lot of NCT Dream

Sighing, Mark was about to slam something to the desk when (y/n) and other teaching assistants came in, startling the entire classroom. “Attention everyone!” (y/n) shouted, the entire classroom sat down and Mark himself was slightly startled

One of the recruits even accidentally threw an object that was in their hand but Mark caught it right before it hit (y/n)’s face. “Alright, class. Welcome to this month’s field study about stealth and spying. I’ll be your main teacher, Mark. You can Mark me in your memory”

“Mr Mark, are you new here?” one of the recruits asked and Mark chuckled. “No, why?”

“Because it seems that you’re mistaken. Everyone here excels in the class and we’re only here for the action. So when are we going to go out for the real deal” the recruits joked around and (y/n) along with some of the higher ranks were about to stop them but Mark raised his hand, stopping them

“The real deal?” Mark chuckled, standing in front of the desk, putting both his arms on the desk behind him. “Alright then. If you want the real deal then tell me who the imposter is in this room. There’s someone in this room that’s not a recruit”

Immediately the entire classroom was a ruckus. Each of them questioned one another because while they were all recruits, they were all from different batches.

“Umm, sir, this can go on for the whole day if you don’t stop it” (y/n) mentioned as Mark turned to see the girl that he admired growing up to become a well-established woman in the group

“Hello? Mark?” (y/n) snapped her fingers in front of the NCT Dream’s leader’s face which snapped him back to reality. “Right, sorry”

Mark then walked away from the desk and headed to one of the groups that was having a heated conversation and pulled one of the “recruits’” jacket. “Haechan, I told you to stop sneaking in like this. Wait until I tell Taeyong about this”

Haechan who chuckly opened the hood of his hoodie just smiled at the tired Mark and waved at (y/n). “Hi (y/n). It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Haechan stated, skipping towards (y/n) who smiled but shook her head in disbelief. “Should’ve known that it was you, Haechan”

The entire class was in shock that another NCT member was in the room and no one recognised him at all. “Relax, I was just curious about the class you were teaching. Gosh, I knew Taeyong made sure that everyone out there didn’t know our identities but our own recruits not knowing who’s who?” Haechan chuckled, shaking his head as he walked towards the desk in front of the classroom. “Damn, either we’ve become desperate and recruited some unskillful people or they’re too spoiled and entitled to the point that they practically forgot what they’ve been taught, and well, from previous experience, it would be the latter”

Haechan was practically livid as he eyed the recruits. He knew some from training them a while back and he remembered a specific recruit that was so full of himself and one time even mistook his girlfriend for some silly new recruit and even nearly bullied her.

Haechan slowly walked toward one of the recruits, his gaze darkened and despite being around the same height as the recruit, he was still an NCT member. His aura screamed intimidating as if he had done so many bad things which sent the entire class silent. “Wouldn’t you say so, Nicholas?”

“Lee Haechan, I think that’s enough” Mark’s voice echoed through the classroom; it wasn’t a shout but rather a statement. The entire class could only watch two NCT members interact in silence. No one dared to talk to each other until Mark walked towards Haechan, his hand was on the younger member’s shoulder. “Haechan” Mark yanked the younger member and made him turn. “I said enough”

The two NCT members had a stare-off right as the bell rang. Sighing, Mark told the students to be prepared for the next lesson because he was going to bring them for a mini field assessment. “Alright, dismiss everyone”

One by one the students left the classroom along with some of the higher recruits and right as (y/n) was about to leave, Mark decided to ask her a favour. “Hey (y/n), I know that I might be asking a lot but would you mind sending me the entire background information of the students and an overview of what they’ve learned?”

“Sure thing. Anything else that you might need?” (y/n) asked, tilting her head which made Mark stutter a bit. “N-no, that’s all. Thanks (y/n). I appreciate it”

“No worries. I’ll umm, get going and get the things you need ready” (y/n) mentioned and left the classroom to just Mark and Haechan

“Haechan, what were you even trying to do with spying on the class? I didn’t even get to teach anything and…” Mark was starting to complain but Haechan’s serious tone cut him off. “Hyung. You should know that while I’m a prankster at times, I don’t really play around when it comes to work, and let me tell you, that kid, Nicholas, and his gang. There’s something not right about them. They thought my girlfriend was some new recruit and were about to bully her had Jeno not come and stop them”

Hearing Haechan be serious and explain this made Mark let out another long sigh and mess his hair up. “And? You kept an eye on them, right? What did you find, Haechan?”

Haechan looked down, clenching his hands into a fist. “Nothing out of the ordinary just yet but I’m warning you, Hyng. He’s not someone we should leave unwatched” Haechan mentioned as he left Mark in the classroom to think about what just happened.

Over the next course of 3 weeks, Mark has been teaching and training the recruits alongside the higher rankings like (y/n). Occasionally, some of the other members would come around and visit Mark’s lessons and even help teach some of the recruits as well.

By the end of the month, Taeyong had assigned fieldwork for each of the members and the class they were teaching. Mark announced to his class that they were assigned to handle some illegal drug-selling group that was in a college.

“Alright class. There’s a yearly sorority party going at a special location. It’s typically different every year, and the tracing class has already traced their location. Your job is to infiltrate the party and find whoever is selling and retrieving those drugs. Don’t get caught, watch each others’ back. We’ll be close by just in case anything goes wrong. You’ll be separated amongst different teams to infiltrate each party since there are several going around in the town they were assigned to.

Mark watched as the recruits were divided and (y/n) was assigned to be the main leader for the group that had Nicholas which even though throughout the past few weeks, Mark didn’t notice anything, he couldn’t help but feel something not sit right with him that he decided to talk with (y/n) right before her team headed out.

“Hey” Mark called out to (y/n) who turned and looked at Mark. “Oh, Mark, hi. What is it? Is there something wrong?” (y/n) asked

“N-no. Well, just wanted to make sure that you’re alright” Mark mentioned, scratching the back of his neck, making (y/n) chuckle. “I’m okay, Mark. Don’t worry about it. It’s not like they’re in kindergarten where they need to be constantly watched” (y/n) mentioned, making Mark laugh as well

“I know, I know. But you know, they’re still kids. They haven’t gone to the field like we have. This is a good opportunity for them to be exposed and for us to see how serious they are. Also to see who is easily manipulated or not” Mark mentioned, making the hair on the back of (y/n)’s neck stand up

“I, I know, Mark. I know what you mean. Since the incident with Eunji against of the entitled group, it has been part of the program where before their supposed ‘graduation’, they would be sent to the field to deal with real-life problems” (y/n) replied and Mark knew the incident she was talking about

“I know that incident too. Just, be careful alright? If anything happens, just call us” Mark mentioned as (y/n) nodded and left along with the rest of the group for the recruits’ annual field mission

Mark’s POV

It was a little past 1 am and almost 6 hours since the group left yet there really hadn’t been any major updates regarding the issue and I’m starting to grow worry. “Yo Hyung, are you working overtime again?” I heard Renjun mention, coming into my office

“Not exactly overtime if I’m waiting until the class has all come back” I mentioned as Renjun shook his head whereas the rest of the dreamies came into my office

“Are you sure you’re just waiting for the class or waiting for (y/n)?” Haechan teased which made me throw the nearest object towards him

“There’s nothing wrong with being worried about a fellow comrade. It’s quite normal. Especially if you have a crush on the person” Jeno followed along with the teasing

The members kept me company for a while until Haechan received a notification from his laptop that the final team, the one (y/n) is supervising was finally done with their task and were heading their way back to the headquarters.

The dreamies and I went towards our HQ’s vehicle building. By the time we arrived, the cars that (y/n) and her team used were already back but instead of hearing some encouraging words or complains about coming back late or something, we heard some arguments between several people.

Your POV

“You seriously going to report us about what we did? I mean we’ve been training at this place for who knows how damn long it has been since we were all brought here. We’re always monitored whenever we leave the base and the one time we get to go out and explore without being monitored, of course, you had to be the responsible one and ruined it” Nicholas complained

Scoffing, I crossed my arms and looked at Nicholas with a sharp gaze, no one else dared to speak up. “Ruined it?! You were the one acting like a brat. It’s as if this place is a prison and you can’t get any social interaction at all. More like, you can’t pull anyone in here so you decided to try and drug that girl at the party”

Nicholas was about to bark back at me but we were all shocked at the next few words that echoed through the place and heavy boots getting closer.

“You tried to do what?!” we heard Mark shout and as I turned around, I saw Mark along with the other Dream members making their way towards us

Instinctively, I lightly bowed at them and explained what happened. “We found who was selling the drugs and traced them back to an old man who was working together with one of the kids. Of course, we’ve handled the situation. We confiscated the drugs and the kids who were selling them then…” before I continued, Mark stopped me and made his way towards Nicholas

“We know what happened (y/n). You gave us constant updates and we already know who was the one actually selling the drugs and all” Haechan explained

“But not about someone, amongst our soon-to-be fresh grads wanting to use those drugs for…” Jeno mentioned but Mark continued. “Personal reasons”

Everyone was silent, I didn’t even dare to say anything. Dream are considered to be the more laid-back group but when it comes to their job, they don’t play around. Especially when it involves illegal things and their reputation being at stake. Yet, this is the first time I’ve seen Mark actually be this intimidating as the leader of NCT Dream.

“Explain yourself” Mark stated, his eyes filled with annoyance was bored into Nicholas’ scared ones. “Or would you like to be intimidated by DoJaeJung?”

Dojaejung, another sub-unit of NCT with Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo. Though these 3 older NCT members seemed chill, Jungwoo is able to make you rat yourself, twisting your own words. Doyoung’s judging eyes and sharp words are also able to make you cower in fear. Finally, Jaehyun. He might seem the quietest and the one who could care less about anything. But if it involves his members, something that is against the foundation that he along with NCT built, it’s safe to say that you’re better off digging your own grave before facing him.

“N-no Mark, it was just…” Nicholas stuttered. “That’s sir to you. You don’t get to call me by my first name. Not at this very moment”

“Y-yes sir. I was saying that we never meant to harm anyone. We also didn’t harm anyone. We were curious and well we’ve been here practically for a long time and we just wanted to have fun had she not act like such an entitled person and…”

Without a warning, Mark punched Nicholas to the ground, causing me to gasp and cover my mouth Haechan chuckled then both Jeno and Jaemin each grabbed Nicholas’ arm, forcing him to look up at Mark. “You don’t get to say that about her. She’s doing her job. If she hadn’t been there to stop you. Graduating from here should be the least of your worries at this point. Once the whole of NCT finds out what you and some of you tried to pull out there which let me tell you from experience” Mark chuckled, his gaze was sharp

“Taeyong always knows everything. If you think you can think ahead and try to cover up whatever evidence you have. Taeyong will already have backups on backups. Evidence after evidence. Witnesses ready. If I were you, I’d start practicing begging to be spared. Now go back to your dorms. We’ll talk more about your stunt and give you a proper teaching of respect”

A/N: thank you once again for requesting this fic, anon and I hope you and everyone enjoyed reading this fic! Also if anyone also plays love and deepspace, hit me up :3

[stormblessed95]

I know this is a boring convo for yall. But Jimin literally sees JK likes his brother from another mom. Nothing he said about his album or during the show adds up to your theory of them being boyfriends. Dont forget he said whether he can even love someone (i didnt saw any Jikookers mentioning it as it wasn't translation error or album theme but his irl words) I don't think JK remotely comes to his ideal type nor he have that type of feelings for JK. I'm not talking about goofy talks they do for a lil funny moment infront of cam. But the real Park Jimin behind the cam totally sees JK as his brother.

Boring? No, id love a boring ask. Annoying and repetitive? Yes.

Are you trying to change my mind? Why? What does it matter to you? What you think of their relationship doesn't matter to me.

This post, also for you

Because the whole "your theory" comment. Bitch I KNOW you didn't read my posts. Especially because of your "I didn't see any jikookers mentioning it" comment. Because I did. And I even highlighted it in red. Sooooo take your stupid ass opinions to your own blog. Or at least to jikookers who are doing whatever the fuck you are accusing them of. Or at a very bare minimum, read the posts about the theories you are mentioning in the blog you decide to message. Because all this does is make me roll my eyes at you. Zero of any kind of productive conversation with this sort of ask.

I can't and won't give a shit about your opinions, if you won't give a shit about mine, by actually reading them.

Fascinating you know the real park Jimin behind the cameras. I hope you share your thoughts with him, not me next time. Thanks.

The funny little moments in front of the cam, like asking for kisses....

Jimins type in girl as per early year interview

Cute, shorter than him, long hair, nice

Jimins type in boys as per interviews....

Oh wait, why would they ever ask him that. Lol but he has been pretty clear with hints towards queerness/bi-ness. And he has stayed at one point to JK that JK is his type.... So perhaps next time you meet up with Jimin IRL, since you know him and all, make more an effort to get to know him better? Idk

Normally I'd just ignore you, but I'm so tired of all this bullshit. Take it to someone who cares.

[sinnercore]

Boyfriend Sampo headcanons please!

ᓚᘏᗢ author note : omg you know for a fact I’m gonna do this without hesitation!!! he’s my boyf irl 🤭 hope this was okay, I was writing this in between playing games and didn’t bother proofreading ;-; but thank u for requesting especially for Honkai <33

ᓚᘏᗢ content warnings : fem!reader implied, cunnilingus, mentions of cum, breeding, slight dubcon if you squint, NOT PROOFREAD

ᓚᘏᗢ SAFE FOR WORK :

he’s completely and utterly OBSESSED with you, he’s the type of guy to be showing you off to everyone he knows !! using his phone during a random business ‘meeting’? “hey, isn’t my soulmate amazing? look, look at the picture! aren’t we cute?”

he’s that type of partner to buy everything you touch ! you ever mention something off-handed? he’s gonna be searching for it on his phone that night and buying it w/ next-day delivery — he’s basically gonna be ur sugar daddy the entire time and even when you don’t want him to buy you something he’s gonna anyway because that’s one way he shows his love <33

ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS holds ur hand !! or has his arm around you, he wants everyone to know that your his and he absolutely needs to be touching you like 100% of the time, he’s so touch-starved :(( such a clingy baby omg

sampo always takes you on dates ! he always wants to treat you, always telling you “well what else am I gonna spend my money on?” obviously he’s lying but loves to say that you’re the only reason he makes money, because he wants to shower you with treats and goodies

HE’S A SNUGGLE BUG !!! lazy days are his absolute favourite, never lets you leave the bed and if you try he’ll pout and hit you with the “why do you hate me so much?” — also, he’s not afraid to admit that he LOVES being the little spoon, ofc he’ll be thing big spoon but he wants to be cuddled every now and again, too

ᓚᘏᗢ NOT SAFE FOR WORK :

this man has the BIGGEST size kink (pun intended), he goes out of his way to always make himself bigger than you!! doesn’t matter if it’s pinning you down to the bed or against a wall, just know he wants to completely overtake you in every way possible

pussy eating god !!! ain’t nothing he loves more than having his head between ur legs, overstimulating you till you’ve got tears in your eyes and you’re trying to push his head away. obviously he doesn’t let you do that bc he can’t get enough of you <33 ALSO WHEN HE SAYS SIT ON HIS FACE HE MEANS SIT ON HIM FULLY !!!! he ain’t believe in the hover tactic, he wants you to smother him !! he’ll breathe through his ears if he needs to, just sit on this man’s face and he’ll fall in love w you on the spot

has an absolutely huge cock and loves watching you struggle to take all of him <33 but he will spend hours on foreplay if he needs to, just to prepare your tight little hole to take him + it means more fun for him. If he’s ever away on business he tells you to keep ur cunt trained and use toys ( and ofc send him pics ;) )

doesn’t believe in masturbating because he thinks that his cum shouldn’t be wasted, it’s either gotta be on you or in you, or both !! absolute biggest breeding kink, doesn’t matter where he cums, he just needs it to fill you

is 100% the type of man that whimpers, moans, and cusses under his breath while fucking you — he doesn’t try to hide it at all !!! the more sound the better in his opinion, that includes all the sounds you make — he’s just a vocal king

[ughgoaway]

I need you like a heartbeat

content warnings: mentions of sex... that's kinda it the rest is just very soppy lovey-dovey stuff!! word count- 1.9k

a/n: hi!! so I kinda lied about doing under 1000 words but once I got going I couldn't stop lol. I did write this quick so if it's really bad don't tell me (please do I cannot cope not knowing). This was inspired by this request for some fluffy aftercare, thanks for the request!! this is my first time writing fluff so be gentle with me... I'm not good at being in love (haven't done it irl yet) so we'll see how it goes. also would just like to reiterate I am English but I did use braid instead of plait because I have beef with the spelling of plait, I think it's stupid so refuse to type it. also, I was gonna include a full skincare scene but alas I don't do any so had no idea what to write... anyway here you go!!

Thump. Thump. Thump. All you can hear is your heartbeat in your head, the repetitive rhythm being the only thing keeping you grounded. Without it, you fear you would just float away. You fear your weightlessness would simply cause you to disappear from the earth as you know it.

Soon a pair of hands come up to wipe your tear-stained face, you instinctively lean into the touch despite not quite remembering who it is. “Baby? Darling, you with me?”

Matty.

The calloused hands delicately wiping your face belong to your boyfriend and his touch makes the fog in your mind begin to lift. As it always does when you're around him. 2 years in and still you've never met someone you feel so clear around. That may seem unusual to some people, they all say “isn't the love of your life meant to make you a bit hazy? Make your head swirl and your mind go blank?” But no, not to you. You've never felt anything but clear around him, just so completely yourself it almost hurts. There was never any fogginess in your mind, there was nothing but a clear choice. Him. It was as if there was a spotlight on him wherever you were, he was in plain sight. The first thing you saw no matter what.

Slowly your eyes blink open and you're met with the sight of your very naked boyfriend hovering over you giving you a warm smile, “there's my sweet girl” he says staring adoringly at you. The smile was quickly mirrored by you followed by a small giggle. Despite having seen him naked 1000 times, suddenly this time was very funny. 

“What are you giggling at, hmm?” Matty says, despite lightly giggling himself, he always found your laughter so contagious. Your joy always lit up every room you were in. The pure happiness that surrounded you was so contagious it couldn't help but rub off on him. So for the first time in his 34 years of life, Matty would describe himself as giddy, not just from your giddiness infecting him but from just you in general. The love he felt for you made him feel 15 again like he was crushing on a girl way out of his league. Becoming slowly obsessed with seeing her around school. But with you, that feeling never went away, that slight obsession was ever permanent. And he loved it. He was nothing but absolutely, unbelievably obsessed with you. And he told you as such, over and over again.

“You’re naked” you manage to splutter out in your fit of giggles, Matty felt his heart flutter at the sight of you. Naked also, tears of dark mascara staining your cheeks and dozens of hickeys and bites blooming on your body but also giggling with no care in the world.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this sweetheart, but you're naked too. Don't tell me you forgot about my amazing lovemaking skills so quickly” Matty says, acting offended at your forgetfulness. 

“One,” you begin, acting mock serious at the man on top of you “Never call it lovemaking again or it will start happening substantially less” Matty laughs at you and begins pressing small kisses over the expanse of your face. “Two” you try and list off your second point but soon get lost in another fit of giggles at the myriad of kisses being littered over your face.

“I'll never get my second point out if you keep kissing me” you manage to stutter out, trying to speak but being accosted with pecks. 

“Fine, fine, sorry baby- go on,” Matty says leaning back slightly and looking back at you fondly, loving how you can go from moaning his name and crying from pleasure to giggling at your naked boyfriend.

“Thank you,” you fake clear your throat to assure your boyfriend this was a serious matter, “Two- I could never forget, I just suddenly found it funny you were naked.” You finish your statement and look up at your boyfriend. 

His hair was sweaty and sticking up in 50 directions, a pink flush decorated his cheeks and his pupils were blown so wide if you didn't know better, you'd think he had black iris’. He’d never looked more beautiful to you. Well, aside from the 50 other times you had assured yourself he never looked more beautiful.

You attempt to sit up to return the onslaught of kisses but you hiss as you're soon reminded of what you were just doing. Everything hurts, in the best way, of course, your arms feel like jelly and you can faintly feel his cum leaking out of you.

As quickly as you try to sit up you are ushered back down by Matty, “No, no don't get up sweetheart. I’m going to go get a warm cloth from the bathroom and clean you up a little yeah?”

You nod lightly, closing your eyes and resting on the silk pillowcases behind you. You are almost lulled back to sleep at the noises of your boyfriend moving around the room but a hiss soon left your mouth as Matty begins wiping you delicately.

The various marks on your thigh burn as Matty wipes your wetness off them, he apologises over and over. Only getting more insistent as he begins to wipe at your core. He starts at the top, lightly patting your clit and hushing your whimpers, hating he was hurting you. 

But soon the feeling of him cleaning stopped, you looked down only to catch your boyfriend staring longingly at the sight of his cum leaving you. For the third time tonight, giggles leave you as you stare at the blank expression on his face

“Oops sorry darling, got a bit distracted there but I'm back to business now I swear” Matty assures you before cautiously swiping at your hole and cleaning up the mess he made. The cloth was tossed aside as Matty worked his way back up your body to your face, smiling at your blissed-out look.

“You feel well enough to walk yet baby? We really need to get that makeup off and do your skincare. You’d kill me if I let you go one night without rubbing some oil or serum on your face.” 

You smile and nod at your boyfriend, preparing to walk only to be scooped up in his arms and carried into the bathroom. The cold tile of the vanity soon hit your bum causing another hiss to leave your bitten lips, red and puffy from the nights events. 

“What was the point in being able to walk if you were just gonna carry me huh handsome?” you say staring at your boyfriend while he grabs the makeup wipes and begins wiping your tear-stained cheeks. 

“Always gotta give you the princess treatment baby, just wanted to make sure if you had to walk you could. But I would never make my girl walk all the way to the bathroom! What kinda boyfriend would I be huh” he says jokingly. He's so intensely focused on finding your numerous skincare products he doesn't notice the massive smile that takes over your face. 

Matty has about 20 bottles in his hands, each one causing the confused frown on his face to grow. You stifle your laugh at his clear confusion and grab the various products from him and place them by the sink next to you. 

“Don't worry about all that tonight baby, just some moisturiser I think. I'm too knackered for much else” You notice Matty let out a relieved breath at your shortened routine, not quite sure what he would do if you wanted to do the full thing.

He grabs the small tub nestled between the mess of products on the counter and begins rubbing it in small circles on your cheeks and forehead. You almost catch your eyes closing at the feeling of him massaging your face but force yourself to keep them open to look longingly at your boyfriend's very focused face, tongue out and all.

“You wanna have a bath darling or should I just braid your hair and we call it a night?” Matty says, still rubbing your face despite all the moisturiser being applied. He just loved touching you, anyway he could. Not necessarily sexually, as much as he enjoyed that. But just loving small touches, a kiss on the cheek when he walked past, a hand on the small of your back when you stood together, even just your pinky fingers linked together as you spoke around a dinner table. Little affectionate touches kept Matty going and he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to touch your very pretty face.

“Just some braids would be amazing, thank you my love” You smile at your doting boyfriend as he nods and grabs the hairbrush, slowly bruising out the multitude of knots caused by him, he's sure.

His nimble fingers pass your hair between them, slowly braiding your now neatly brushed hair. Matty grabs a hair tie and secures both of your braids at the end. Finishing with a flourish and a kiss on your nose that made your face scrunch up in that adorable way he loved.

Silently Matty picks you up again, smiling at the roll of your eyes and a bashful grin that you give him whilst in his arms. He places you on the edge of your bed before going to the chest of drawers behind him to fetch you both some clothes. 

You hold in your giggles at your boyfriend's bare bum, assuming he wouldn't love another fit of laughter at his nakedness. 

He soon returns with 2 pairs of black calvins and your favourite one of his shirts, the peach Panasonic shirt he once wore all the time. But mysteriously he stopped, about 2 years ago.

The first night you'd slept together Matty lent you that shirt, he remembers watching you sleep so soundly that morning in the shirt he adored. He vowed there and then to never wear it again, not wanting to sully it with any other memory than the memory of you.

He slipped the shirt over your shoulders and the calvins up your legs, giving your bum a cheeky pat when you lifted your hips to get them on. He followed you up the mattress and settled on the pillows, facing you and staring fondly into your eyes.

Each time your eyes met you treated it like a staring contest, never wanting to be the first to look away. The pure adoration in the other's eyes always kept you looking, staring, not ever wanting to leave that moment.

Matty broke first this time, a small celebration happened in your mind as he pulled the duvet over the two of you. He swung his arm over your shoulder as you settled on his chest. He leant down to give you a gentle kiss on the crown of your head with a large smile on his face. 

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, a smile evident in his voice.

Yours was slightly muffled by your head pressed into his chest but you returned his comment, “I love you too baby, thank you for making me feel good”

“Always” is the last thing Matty said, or the last thing you remember hearing before sleep took over you in the arms of the man you were sure was your soulmate.

[a-random-weeb]

Hiii love ur account! Idk if I can request cause it says it’s closed, so sorry if I’m wrong!

Can I please request a yandere who looks very dominant; tall and buff with muscles. Literally everyone is scared of him because of how frightening he looks. Everyone other than Reader: Yandere is actually scared of reader and is very submissive around them. He actively seeks Reader’s approval and will do anything for her. Kind of like a guard dog? He’s really just a big puppy who craves Readers affection. Thank youuuu

Awww I love this idea!! Let's name him... Austyn, idk it just fits lol. I couldn't think of what age to make him, so I said screw it and put yall in high-school because that's the easiest

Also I know you requested this months ago, and everyone else requested their things months ago, guys I've been so tired recently, I'm so sorry I haven't been able to write what you've been wanting me to. I'm so sorry if you're still waiting on your request, and I'm hoping I'll get more chances to write soon. Thank you for your patience :)

Warnings: Yandere (obv), clingy and obsessive behavior, a little more than just mentions of murder, slight mentions of rape (not to reader or anything i just noticed it was brought up so I figured I'd put it in just incase), reader gets forcefully drugged, kidnapping

This fic is not meant to romanticize unhealthy and toxic relationships, it's hot af in fanfictions but is never ok irl

°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~°•.♡▪︎*~

A huge man towers over you, his shadow engulfing your entire figure, his huge muscles and rough exterior making him appear as if he could kill. He stares down at your petite and fragile body in an intimidating manner as you jolt up in a sitting position. Clutching the desk beneath your upper body, you recognize him almost immediately.

"Where am I?! What do you want?!" You scream dramatically, almost tipping backwards in your chair.

"You fell asleep in class." His eyes narrow. "I had to poke you a bunch so you would wake up. The bell just rang, its lunch time." Your whole face burns a cherry color.

"Um- thanks..." Your eyes wander anywhere but his face. The corners of his mouth ever so slighty elevate as he leans on your desk.

"Would you like to eat lunch together?" He tilts his head slightly in an almost cute way. Your brows furrow in confusion, but nod regardless out of pure fear. He could probably kill you in one hit. No, simply him blowing on you would be enough to knock you 8 miles. You pack your school supplies and walk to your locker, Austyn almost breathing down your back as he watches you grab your stuff.

Entering the cafeteria, you both take a seat in one of the only spots left in the overcrowded area, its a bit shocking when kids start scooting away from you both, even the kids across from you want nothing to do with your new 'friend'. Or thats at least what you hope he wants with you...

Your prayers were answered, but in the worst way possible. It's almost physically painful watching Austyn attempt to make conversation with you. Stuttering over every second word, obviously embarrassed and anxious, fumbling with his hands. It was... cute. You'd never thought he would be like this while talking to him, you've seen him be rude and cold to everyone, maybe he's just shy and comes off as rude? Guess you'll find out. You, having not as many friends as you'd like to have, appreciate the attention from him regardless. But he desperately needed help with this whole social thing, so you give him a hand.

"If you're not busy, maybe you could help me with homework after we finish eating?" You smile, hoping he's not busy before you die of embarrassment. Thankfully, he nods, and the two of you finish your meal in silence.

You were hoping he'd be a little more outgoing and not as awkward in the library, but boy were you wrong. More stuttering, more avoidance of eye contact, more hand fidgeting. He wasnt even helping, just sitting there and watching you, almost too intently. You almost scream of joy when your best and only friend, Abby, joins you.

"Hi!" She beams excitedly, taking a seat next to you, "need help?"

"You're my savior!" You giggle, hugging her. Austyns aura immediately chances from a shy puppy to one that could kill. He glares daggers into Abby as she speaks a bit too friendly to you, gets a little too close to you, helps you instead of him. He knows he needs to up his game, but your stupid friend might ruin his chances.

Abby was your friend since elementary school, you've never been great at giving anyone a smile, but she always brings out your biggest one. She's helped you through so much, you owe her your life!

The rest of lunch Austyn stays silent and in the background, you assume he's shy... God, you hope that he was not hurt. You continued the rest of your classes like normal, overjoyed when the day comes to an end.

You and Abby walk home together, teasing and laughing with eachother. Austyn trails behind you both, not talking too much. Neither of you know where Austyn lives, and forget to ask. They drop you off at your house, and Abby lives just across the street so you guess Austyn walks her home. The long between your houses and the school is 30 minutes. You could take the bus, and you do in the mornings, but the walk is too beautiful to miss, so fun laughing with your best friend through the sunset in the city, too fun running through the long field of grass, racing down the streets, seeing who can reach your house the fastest, rubbing it in your face as you both either collapse on your porch or Abby goes home. Sometimes, you dance outside together, sharing secrets, giggling over whatever crush the other one has... Abbys friends with almost everyone, but the two of you are inseparable. Tonight though, you only talked with Abby, not wanting to make Austyn feel left out, and not wanting to seem awkward infront of your new friend. You run inside, jumping into your bed, thinking Austyn is just a little cute. Maybe a tiny crush? You don't think on it too much, as you pass out.

The next day, Austyn starts hanging out with you and Abby, which neither of you mind. He's a bit less shy and a bit more friendly. He's in your homeroom, science, and math class, so you sat next to him in all of those. You guys talked and exchanged answers from time to time, overall getting along very well. You guys hang out at lunch, and sure, you give a slight bit more attention to Abby, but thats it, and overall, the three of you get along like three peas in a pod. The next four days go similarly, your crush for him grows.

One lunch time the three of you meet up, eat, and head to the library. You weren't sure what was wrong, but Austyn didn't seem to be a huge fan of Abby, only hanging out and attempting to make conversation with you, almost cutting Abby out. You, of course, refuse to let that happen, and keep adding your friend the the conversation. You and Abby exchange a confused look, Austyn normally loves you and Abby.

After school the same day, you run over to Abbys locker, waiting for her to grab her stuff. You wait for 5 minutes... 10 minutes... 20 minutes... she doesn't show up. Thinking it's a bit strange, you still wait, assuming she was held back in class or something, as the teachers often like to praise her work or offer her opportunities for an upcoming math competition or something. She appears, after awhile, running towards you. The two of you begin to walk home together. When you ask her what she was doing, she awkwardly dodges the question. You leave her alone about it.

The next day when you arrive at school, Abby still didn't show up. How strange, you think to yourself. Abby hasn't missed a single day this year, not even when she was sick, you have no clue how she does it. Straight As, no days missed, friends with everyone she talks to, yet she's not here. You couldn't help but feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to assume the worst. You would've thought she'd at least text you right? The more you thought about it the worse it got. What if she was raped by a creepy teacher?? What if she was kidnapped?! Maybe she got a deadly sickness and has three days to live! There's so many possibilities you weren't sure, what if-

"Hey!" Your new 'friend' from yesterday appears before you, looking like he's accomplished something great.

"Hi...?" You look up at him, calming yourself immediately. You knew you shouldn't overthink this, she probably just missed her bus or something. Austyn obviously picks up on your torn face as he asks,

"Hey, are you ok? You look offput..." he does his signature, puppy-like head tilt. you quickly nod your head, laughing to yourself silently of the stupidity of your overdramatic thoughts. You weren't normally so anxious, this over worried about your friend not being at school immediately, but for some reason, your gut was screaming at you that something bad happened. And then... The overwhelming feeling to run hits you. Looking at Austyns smile fills you with a strange sense of dread. White noise echos in your ears.

"Woah, woah, calm down!" He panics, "Hey what happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Hes acting way too friendly today... you shake your head.

"I-I don't know what's wrong with me today? I guess it's just a weird day....?" Austyn rushes to wipe some tears you didn't notice were were falling from your eyes.

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it...." he sighs "I don't know what happened, but stop worrying."

Abby was murdered.

You don't know how you know, last night was such a haze... what happened...? Pictures of her dead body flash in your mind, the killer standing there with a knife and sadistic smile. You swear it was a dream... you remember beginning your walk home, but can't remember anything passed the midway point, not even what you did last night, did you even eat dinner? You didn't wear pajamas last night, you assumed you were just tired when you woke up. But did you really see Abbys murder or is this just the most dramatic you've ever been on a Wensday morning?

You continued your day like normal, the sinking feeling never leaving you. Austyn was acting strange, outgoing and sweet to you. And yet his face was making you want to throw up for some reason... to go as far as to flee the country. Well, maybe not that far, but you certainly didn't want him near you for some reason.

The end of the days comes, and your dumbass told Austyn he could walk you home. It was probably fine, you'd go to sleep tonight and tomorrow everything would be normal, Abby would be at school and Austyn wouldn't be as creepy to you. You're sure of it.

You wait for him near the entrance of the school, and of course, when he comes out, he's almost stumbling over his own feet to run towards you.

"Hey!" He gives a huge innocent smile as he begins walking with you, clutching the arms of his backpack in a shy manner. You smile up at him, not sure if it's a real smile or not. No words are exchanged as you both watch little cracks of the sunset through all the large buildings of the city. It wasn't cold, but it definitely wasn't hot, the perfect night for a first kiss. Stars beginning to appear as you make your way out of downtown, you've only been walking for 15 minutes... almost the midway point... you have a much better view of the now gone sun, there's still a bit of red. There's no one around, it's a gorgeous night, you're walking home with a guy... everything should be perfect, it should be romantic. You recognize this, Deja vu, but different.... memories from what you think to be the dream, or a cruel reality you weren't sure yet start to appear. Abbys lifeless body in the long grass, the moonlight to the killers back, you know who it was, but you can't remember.... all these events took place just upahead and-

It wasn't a dream.

Blood stains lay in the grass and you point to Austyn, not in control of your body or the words that spill from your mouth, or the tears that spill from your mouth, or the puke that's about to spill from your mouth.

"You did this... didn't you...?"

Austyns eyes darken, "and you remember. I knew the sedatives wouldn't work as well as I wanted them to..." he sighs "I did this for you, don't you see?! I killed her for you. I've loved you for so long and you've never even looked at me. So I stalked you, learned about you, you're so cute yknow! You never laughed the same way around me as you did with Abby, ramble to me as you did with her.... So now our problem is gone, and we can be the cutest couple!" He spits delusionally. You back away from him, the moon to his back, the same spot as last night. He grabs your wrist harshly, overpowering you easily.

"You can't run darling, now let's go to my house!" He beams, "I'll even bring you home the head of someone you don't like!" You thrash around, screaming for help, but Austyn just giggles and hugs you to him, holding one hand around your arms and torso and the other over your mouth. "Shhhhh, it'll be ok!" He puts a chloroform filled cloth to your mouth, and everything goes dark.

Maybe I'll write a part 2, maybe I'll do headcannons, maybe I'll leave you guys to imagine the rest, we'll see :3

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

Hi this is my kinky hornyposting sideblog 😇 (main is @existentialsquid)

This is an 18+ only space. Minors DNI.

This is a pro-kink, pro-trans, anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist space. Bigots, transphobes, conservatives, and zionists DNI. Also, die!!!!

This is a place for me to explore all my kinks, including the dark ones. Continue with this in mind.

If you want to DM me, please read my whole pinned!

Anyway, about me:

Call me Di and use my pronouns (she/they/it) and you will be spared. You may also call me “ma’am” (or “mistress” if that’s our relationship 🖤) or any feminine term of endearment if we’re mutuals 💖 (i love pet names so i will probably end up calling you “darling” if i take a liking to you 😇)

Other than kink, I enjoy TTRPGs, Fromsoftware games (Dark Souls, Bloodborne, Elden Ring, etc.), animated media (currently watching Dungeon Meshi and LOVING IT) and nerd shit like that. If you have minis, Warhammer models, or Gunpla you built/painted, I want to see it!

I’m polyam and in an open relationship with my boyfriend @bearded-protagonist-enthusiast, but I’m not really looking for a new romantic relationship right now. I’m totally up for friendship and sexting with mutuals though! 🥰

i am here to make friends, explore kink, flirt with mutuals, and post about:

T4T

and

uneven power dynamics (sometimes involving primal predator/prey dynamics, praise, worship, playful degradation (as degrader), petplay, or dubcon (CNC, intox, etc.))

and

breeding/oviposition (also lactation, but not birth!)

and

monsterfucking (of nearly all kinds)

and

transformation/corruption (usually overlapping with monsterfucking stuff)

and

gore (blood, eroticised cannibalism, etc.)

(Note: there will be no real snuff, only occasional art and smut, as well as me just talking about gory fantasies)

and

unsanitary (musk and blood only)

Also, obligatory: I have a bit of an oral fixation so there will be talk of biting - if I ever mention “breaking the skin” with a bite, please know that it is purely in a fantasy sense! Drawing blood with your teeth is very dangerous IRL due to risk of infection. Buuuut it’s pretty sexy in fantasy though, so I will talk about it in that sense. Stay safe out there!

I also like unambiguously consensual stuff with human characters who stay the same, but the above are my kinks so they’ll show up frequently on this blog :)

If you don’t like any of those kinks, you have my blessing to never interact with me ever and live blissfully unaware of my existence. This is a pro-kink space.

On that note, there are some kinks I’m not into and would prefer not to be brought to this blog by replies or asks or what-have-you. No offence intended to anyone with these kinks, but these are my hard lines:

Being preyed on (I can get subby as hell but I draw the line at being treated like a prey animal 🙅‍♀️ I’m not a little rabbit or a deer or a puppy that gets hunted, the idea of me being that is not sexy to me)

Piss

Scat

Raceplay

My soft lines (i.e. things I might be comfortable with if done with someone I trust and can discuss them with) are:

Being degraded (generally I prefer being the one degrading, but in select situations I can be into being degraded)

Choking (I might find it sexy in fantasy on occasion, but I would never ever do it IRL because of the inherent health risks. For that reason, it can be a turn-off sometimes.)

Incest/fauxcest (I don’t always love all versions of this kink, but I’m open to discussing specific fantasies if I have a chance to say “actually, no thanks” before we start anything. You can call me mommy as a title if you’re one of my beloved mutuals 😇)

Detransition (I would never want this for myself but if someone wants to RP as their AGAB then I can be into that~)

The above is not a DNI list. You can still interact with this blog if you have any/all of the above kinks, just don’t bring anything on the hard lines list into my replies, reblogs, asks, or DMs. If you’re interested in something on the soft lines list please keep my boundaries in mind.

On the subject of interaction, i’ll accept anon asks related to:

monsterfucking concepts

T4T flirting 🥰

True/False game (make an assumption about me and I’ll say if it’s true or false)

NSFW ask game

Kink Rating ask game

Fifty Shades of Blue ask game

NSFT Emoji ask game

Telling me you just masturbated to my blog/pics 😇

If you want to sext/RP with me, please:

Send me an ask or two first to break the ice

Chat with me for a bit

Pitch the scene you want to RP and/or ask if I’m in the mood first

Check in with me as we go (I’ll do the same, of course)

ok thanks enjoy

ANON ASKS: OPEN

DMs: OPEN (MUTUALS ONLY)

My tags:

#me (whatever reminds me of myself)

#beloved volus (posts relating to my partner @bearded-protagonist-enthusiast)

#personal post (stuff that’s more about me than anything)

#my fiction (my short stories and smut)

#transition goals (what i’d want to look like in an ideal world)

#need (general horny thoughts)

#i can be trusted around cute boys (subby boy tag)

#i bite (this one is self-explanatory)

#i am looking (real people selfies and nudes)

#tf (content relating to fantasy transformation)

#monsterfucker (monster stuff)

#my ask + #my answer (self-explanatory)

mutal tags: #beloved volus (@bearded-protagonist-enthusiast) #kittendeer (@pupsferalkid) #misc (@miscling) #🐊 (@crocofsouls) #gothykitten (@gothykitten16) #dommy demon (@serotoninswitch) #elf mutual (@mira-mira-0n-the-wall) #dungeon essie (@beansira) #baz (@hyenabrainedpup) and probably more when i get round to it lol