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hoseoksluna · 6 months

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch.

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is.

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully.

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses.

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth.

He is not, in fact, on his way home.

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy.

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny.

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?”

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display.

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.”

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself.

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen.

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking.

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do?

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice.

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.”

Naked.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.”

And with that, he hangs up.

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you.

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend.

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form.

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer.

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience?

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad.

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you.

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done?

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you.

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer.

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you.

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had.

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to.

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all.

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream—

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment?

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call?

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person.

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult.

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there.

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.”

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred.

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body.

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man.

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober.

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross.

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially.

Was it out of the question or would he consider it?

Your leg jitters harder.

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin.

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.”

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion.

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek.

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?”

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one?

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks.

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness.

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you.

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.”

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?”

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did.

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently.

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side.

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.”

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?”

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you.

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.”

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted.

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue.

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?”

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?”

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?”

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?”

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.”

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?”

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath.

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while.

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.”

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours.

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples.

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged.

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?”

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times.

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think.

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants.

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half.

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath.

Such a stark, sudden change.

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that.

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.”

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving.

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin.

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under.

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration.

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home.

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy.

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?”

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start.

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down.

You fight against it.

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness.

And you decide to repeat history.

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants.

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?”

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether.

And then, you collect your essence again.

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.”

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally.

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue.

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.”

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you.

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince.

And then—then he manhandles you.

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does.

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden.

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter.

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?”

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion.

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.”

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit.

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off.

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.”

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused.

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.”

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation.

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way.

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum.

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.”

Yoongi has had enough.

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’.

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.”

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?”

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix.

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?”

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him.

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.”

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you.

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.”

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.”

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something.

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you.

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.”

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come.

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them.

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.”

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes.

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.”

With that, he hangs up.

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again.

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself.

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you.

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing.

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?”

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.”

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief.

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you.

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind.

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles.

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.”

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours.

But you don’t let him take charge.

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.”

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you.

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed.

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours.

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.”

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him.

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock.

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit.

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life.

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too.

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring.

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.”

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation.

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?”

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness.

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him.

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.”

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.”

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two

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2tarbell · 21 days

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can i just say that i love you?! you write trailerpark!rafe so well and i’ve waited so long to find a writer that created a work solely based on him! my obsession with trailerpark!rafe literally came from that short film drew did with rudy 😭😭

anyways i saw that you were looking for blurb ideas and honestly i can’t get trailerpark!rafe and reader doing cute domestic things together like going to the grocery store, washing the truck together, and maybe us seeing how rafe asked reader to move in with him and seeing his reaction to her adding her sweet touches to the place and making the trailer more homey for them.

thank u my love :C ur so sweet and i appreciate the message!!!! wrote something a little small just detailing rafe’s feelings about domestic stuff 💝 ENJOY!!!!

TRAILERPARK!RAFE who loves how reader has become his life.

he had watched her grow up beside him, neither family abundantly rich. but her chalk drawings of butterflies and hearts stretched along the path of her family home — the colors and softness always enraptured rafe, as well as the furrow of her brow when she yelled at him for killing some little bug. then she turned from a little girl with dirt on her cheeks into a mature woman with curves and determination she definitely didn’t have before.

he was sixteen when he fell in with love her, with her soul.

so he asked her to move in with him on their six month anniversary, all bashful and unsure in the way only she could make him. he was nervous about asking her to just come over, yet alone move in with him in such a shitty little trailer; void of decoration and love. he had always wanted to be more for her, for them. this precious woman that wormed her way into his heart since the moment they met at twelve.

it was cute, the way he was avoiding looking as he drove. she could see his ears turning a bit red, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. he’d been on edge the entire evening — shifty eyes and shaky hands so unlike the man she had come to know and love so dearly.

it all made sense when he spoke lowly, eyes still on the road ahead:

“so, uh... whaddaya— ahem… was thinkin’ ‘bout you maybe — uh — movin’ in?”

“you— you want me to?”

rafe couldn’t imagine anything better. so he nodded. and so did she.

the drive continued with her head on his shoulder, both biting back cheesy smiles at the next step they’d decided to take. rafe brought her hand to lips, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles — his fears of being not enough were washed away as his place eventually became their place.

there she was that very weekend, all tender and sweet and telling him where to put her stuff amongst his. he sees her in the furniture they picked, the flowers on the kitchen table, the pictures of them on the walls, in the very foundation of the trailer.

(then of course they fucked on every surface available, ‘christening’ the space.)

her hands soothing and gentle on his arms when he comes home to her. rafe never was good at being gentle like she is — he thinks loveliness lives in her bones as she kisses his cheek and mumbles something about dinner that she made him.

but it was the first night after they moved in together, he saw her in the bathroom preparing for bed and felt all air leave him. he can’t imagine a life without her in it. doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. the thought of a place without her burns in his mind — searing and almost painful. he can’t believe there was a time when she wasn’t his.

#tp!reader #trailerpark!rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

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wosofutbolfan · 2 months

Text

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse.

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there.

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ” Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you.

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder. Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training.

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence.

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it.

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final.

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter.

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it.

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry.

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you.

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet.

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over.

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes.

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you.

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend.

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused.

She was banned from playing.

The team lost.

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in.

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.”

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex.

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror. Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him.

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years! You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met! Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?”

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go.

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her.

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder. “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps.

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper. You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old. “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble.

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath.

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim.

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa.

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible.

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin. You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives. You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens” you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will.

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex.

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage.

You didn’t care.

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia.

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.” Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.”

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay.

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking.

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain.

She took her role seriously, she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers.

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite.

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba. But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention.

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first.

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy.

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow.

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down.

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately.

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family. As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.”

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.” All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall.

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back.

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply,

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears.

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding. The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction.

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days” you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.” You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table, a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination.

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland?

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach.

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice.

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.”

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up.

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin.

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable.

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch. “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck.

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.”

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy.

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed. “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there. I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces.

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes.

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of.

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace.

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated.

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off. Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?”

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing. “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what? A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers. She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was.

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship.

Finally, Word you were alive.

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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cressidagrey · 3 months

Text

Unknowing

Summary:

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

What if… Azriel actually takes Rhys at his word? And does exactly what his High Lord ordered? With unexpected consequences.

This is the Inner Circle finding out about said consequences. Azriel is very good at keeping secrets

Warnings:

(This is a doozy.) Mention of Sex Work, Unexpected Pregnancy, Mention of Faerie Genocide, Mention of Faerie Wings being used as leather, Mention of Sex

Note:

This was a thought experiment that kinda started to grow a life on its own.

(super pretty divider by @saradika-graphics)

Azriel slid into the Dining Room of the River House nearly on the cusp of being late. Mostly because he hadn’t been able to pull himself away from what he had been doing that afternoon.

Nobody in his situation would have wanted to leave.

It had involved his wife and the flower field in their backyard… their daughter sleeping peacefully in her willow basket a few paces away, cradled in a bubble of her mother’s magic that would keep her asleep and safe from anything that could happen to her.

Fed, changed and as happy as a clam to fall into her usual milk-induced coma, he knew that she would only wake up if she wanted more milk.

Which meant that her parents had some quality time for each other…and they had made the best out of that.

The result was a little shimmer of magic all over Azriel that he couldn’t get scrubbed away. Not that he had tried particularly hard either. He liked having that proof of his wife’s pleasure all over him.

His wife, his mate, the mother of his child…his fucking sanity . There were many words he had for Embelia.

She was the bright spot of his life, untouched by the darkness that leeched around him. A secret he gladly kept.

And if the glimmer of her magic followed him and showed everybody that he was hers…well, then that was the case. Azriel didn’t particularly care what anybody else thought of it.

Azriel was out of fucks to give, to be honest. Had been, for the better part of two years…ever since that Solstice.

He was pretty sure that something inside him had splintered apart at Rhys’ order.

That fucking order had been the reason why he had ever even met Embelia though. He had taken Rhys literally. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her. That had been Rhys’ words.

Her had been Elain.

Azriel had listened to Rhys. He had followed the order to the fucking letter, giving the High Lord of the Night Court to complain about. He had left Elain alone…who had figured things out with Lucien. Both now happy and ensconced in Day Court, with Helion, Lucien’s actual father.

And he had gone to that pleasure hall. He had asked for any female that wasn’t afraid of him…and then Embelia had claimed his hand with hers. And that had been that.

Granted, he hadn’t known her name then. For months, all he had known her as had been Blossom. That’s who she had been to him for months .

Just Blossom. Every Thursday, he had gone to that pleasure hall and paid for her company.

And then she had gotten pregnant.

Not quite what either of them expected.

He hadn’t even bothered with a contraception draught and while she had, apparently it hadn’t stood up to Azriel of all faes.

He should probably thank the mother on his knees for that .

But Embelia had told him about the pregnancy and had been very clear from the start that while she wanted the child, she wasn’t going to ask anything of him. Which was simply unacceptable.

He had grown up a bastard. He was not going to put his child through the same if he had any choice in that matter.

And he had been a little bit in love with her then already. So taking her from that pleasure hall and making her his wife…moving her into a cottage he found and making a life with her…that had been the easiest decision he had ever made.

They had just fit together…

She had come to live with him, and had given up her job, though that wasn’t something that bothered her all too much. More than anything she was happy that she no longer needed to do that to keep alive, to make a living…

And he got to hear the story of how she had come to Velaris and to the pleasure hall.

Embelia was a Floresco Fairie. One of the few survivors of that breed of Lesser Fairies. The rest of her family had been slaughtered in the Spring Court Centuries ago.

She had escaped and had ended up in Velaris of all places, traumatised and alone. Still half a child to her people, not having a trade or anything of that sort. The natural ability of a Floresco Fairy made it possible for her to grow flowers and life wherever she stood but none of that particularly lent itself to a well-paid job.

So the pleasure house it had been. With a glamour, of course.

The first time he had met her, she had left the glamour fall away, showing him a pair of iridescent pink wings sprouting out of her back.

Even then he had thought that she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

That opinion had never changed. If anything…after the birth of their daughter, after the mating bond had snapped for both of them, sometimes between cutting the cord and pressing a kiss to their daughter’s blood-covered head, covered in downy black curls…and he had watched Emmie cradle the baby against her chest, watched her coo to her, not caring one bit about blood and sweat and anything else, because there was their little girl that they had hoped and prayed for…somehow at that point, love seemed such a weak word for what he felt for them both.

Somehow…somehow they had become the light of his life, the only guide he needed. And he protected that ferociously.

Maybe even more than was necessary.

He kept them away from his job and from anything and anybody that may would know him as the terror of the Night Court.

They were his. His. His .

The first thing in his long life that was his and his alone .

And maybe that was too possessive, but…he had never wanted to listen to anybody else’s opinions about his and Embelia’s relationship.

And everybody would have had their opinions.

He knew that.

Instead…he had kept them a secret.

To this day, nobody knew. Not Rhys, not Cassian, not Mor, not Amren…not Feyre or Nesta.

Though of all people, sometimes he thought that maybe Nesta suspected something.

But even if she did…that was fine too.

He had made Embelia his wife, and his mate and the mother of his child and nobody could take her away from him. Nobody but herself, and she was gloriously happy in their little flower-covered cottage, where she was…content to dabble at being a housewife.

After the life she had, he could understand it. She revelled in the normal, in doing nothing but dote on their daughter and try and cook him dinner, which had started as absolutely disgusting but these days often turned out at least mostly edible…to tend to her garden of flowers, which were all she ate anyway…

To just exist there, in that little slice of paradise they built.

And instead of being with her…he attended a family dinner at the River House that evening. He would have gladly just stayed at home, made himself dinner, or maybe let Embelia try to feed him, which never quite worked out and then walked their daughter to sleep.

It would have been perfectly fine to him. To press a kiss to their daughter’s black curls and stroke her iridescent purple sparkling wings that were carefully folded and laid over her back…her heart-shaped mouth would open into a perfect o and she would yawn and he would fall in love all over again. It wouldn’t just be perfectly fine. It would be everything he had ever wanted.

And then he could lay her in her crib and he could walk the few steps to their bed and crawl into it next to his wife, and she would give him that smile…and he could cocoon both of them in his wings and fall asleep, safe in the knowledge that she would be there the next morning.

Maybe kiss her some more and hear very perfect noise that left her throat and feel her warm body against his, skin like silk and small warm hands that could take him apart in seconds.

But no. Rhys had ordered him. Like he was sometimes prone to be doing these days. Maybe because he didn’t know how Azriel spent his free time and clearly him being a loose cannon was way more believable than anything else.

Oh well. Azriel wasn’t in the mood to clear that up.

If anything he was in a brooding mood, wanting to go back to his afternoon in the flower field.

“For cauldron’s sake,” Cassian complained, just as he started to violently sneeze. Multiple times. “Did you roll around in a flower field or something?” his brother demanded and Azriel was amused besides himself.

“Yes,” he agreed drily, taking his seat next to Cassian who just glared at him and then grumbled under his breath, swapping seats with Nesta because otherwise he was probably not going to stop sneezing.

“The Lord of Bloodshed taken to his knees by some flower pollen,” Amren drawled from across the table and Cassian glared at her.

Nesta just snorted in amusement.

Rhys and Feyre appeared at that moment and at least the discussion of flower fields was tabled for the moment.

Which was just as well.

Azriel mentally wondered if he could get away with skipping dessert if he cited some headache or something. He could get dessert at home. It promised to be much better than anything that would be served at the table anyway.

Or maybe that was just going to make Rhys think that he was on the brink of some sort of breakdown even more than he already was. Who knew?

Was it worth the mental berating that it promised to give him? All under the guise of worrying about him or checking in on him?

Azriel had his own opinion about that these days.

He couldn’t help but flinch as Nesta suddenly reached out to touch his hair.

“What are you doing?” he asked her drily as Nesta pulled back her hand, Embelia’s glimmer sticking to it.

“You have…glitter in your hair,” Nesta gave back. “What did you do?” she asked him with a grin. “Is that some kind of fashion choice now?”

“It’s not glitter,” he gave back. It wasn’t. It was the flakes that Embelia’s wings shook loose when she trembled. It did look like glitter though. Sparkling, catching the sunlight…gorgeous, like every inch of her.

“Az, I don’t know if you are ready to hear it, but it definitely looks like glitter,” Nesta told him with a snort. “Don’t worry, it suits you,” she said graciously, biting back a laugh.

Mor was watching the whole thing. “It’s not glitter,” she finally said, mustering his hair with far too much interest. Azriel forced himself not to twitch under the assessing gaze of her brown eyes. Once upon a time, he would have given nearly everything to have her look at him like that, but nowadays…there was nothing there anymore. He would always lover her but sometimes during centuries of yearning for her it had settled into a deep and abiding friendship. Into loyalty. No longer the bright burning of desire, of…anything like that. “Though I would really like to know where you found a Floresco Fairy to talk into your bed, Az,“ she said with a wink.

Azriel didn’t react.

“A what?” Feyre asked, curiosity piqued.

“Floresco Fairy,“ Mor repeated. “They used to live in the Spring Court…centuries ago.”

“They don’t anymore?” Feyre wondered and the conversation around the table dropped.

“Tamlin’s father had them slaughtered and used their wings for leather,“ Azriel said, his voice forcefully even. It was even more horrific than it sounded like. A whole breed of faeries was killed off because of their wings. Floresco Faeries had never been violent or a fighting breed. They kept to themselves, raising their families and growing their flowers and their crops…and then it had been ripped apart into a bloodbath.

Embelia had been right in the middle of that. She had escaped, her youngest sister in tow…who had later succumbed to her injuries and all Emmie had been able to do was to bury her into the icy ground in Winter Court. She hadn’t outright said it but Azriel had known that for years she had wished to bury herself right there alongside her sister.

Feyre just stared at him, blue eyes wide. “That’s horrible,“ she whispered, swallowing.

“Yes,“ he agreed. It was.

Horrific.

“Not all died, a few escaped,” Mor said, trying to make it seem less horrific than it had been. “It happened a very long time ago. But still, they are quite rare. Where did you find her?” She asked Azriel, clearly trying to find something else to talk about.

He wasn’t stupid enough to lie to Morrigan, whose gift was Truth.

“Today? At home.” He answered honestly.

“Home?” Mor repeated, sounding amused beside herself.

“Is she the same one you bought that solstice gift for?” Nesta piped up.

He had asked her for advice, more out of desperation than anything else. She had been quite helpful though.

He hadn’t been anted to ask Mor for obvious reasons, Armen would have probably bitten off his head and Feyre…well then Rhys would have known. But Nesta? Nesta had listened to him when he had asked politely and had then told him that if she liked him, she would like whatever he would buy her.

Not that useful but oh well.

So he just nodded.

“Which one did you end up picking?” Nesta asked him, curious.

“I just bought both,” he admitted with a shrug.

A hair comb that Emmie still wore nearly every day, silver and pink stones intertwined, keeping blush hair pulled back from her face and a pair of earrings that she also wore sometimes.

She liked things like that, even when she never seemed to spend much money on them. And he liked buying her stuff like that because then she wore it and had that pleased little smile on her face, content and happy…

“Lucky girl,” Nesta told him with a secret smile, elbowing his ribs and he bit back down a smile for himself.

“Az got a girlfriend?” Cassian asked, sounding shocked.

“I do not,” he disagreed with a roll of his eyes. He didn’t have a girlfriend. He had a wife. Very different.

“So you just buy…What did he buy, Nesta?” Cassian asked.

“He was waffling between a jewel-encrusted hair comb or a pair of lovely earrings. Apparently, he got her both,” Nesta answered her mate with a sigh. “You should take some advice from him,” she told him drily, making Cassian roll his eyes.

“So if you don’t have a girlfriend, you just buy hair combs and jewellery for any female you come across?” His brother asked him drily.

He just shook his head, not saying a single word. His shadows tightened in response, crawling closer to him from where they had skittered away.

They liked Embelia, though they had taken a special liking to his daughter, tendrils oftentimes coming to play with her or checking on her through the night. With Emmie they kept a respectful distance, though they liked to hide and play with her, like they basked in her pure presence.

It wouldn’t surprise him all too much if that’s what they did.

“Flower and Bud are safe” they whispered at that moment, even when he hadn’t asked.

Right. Safe.

“Leave him to it, Cassian. Though maybe next time wash off the glimmer. Or don’t have one of your amorous adventures before you show up to dinner,” Rhys drawled.

It shouldn’t have upset him like that. It shouldn’t have.

It was harmless. Mostly at least, but Azriel couldn’t help but feel the icy rage burn bright in his chest at Rhysand’s words. At his brother’s words.

He didn’t have many good things in his life but he had Emmie and he was not going to let anybody take her away from him. He was not.

That was simply unacceptable.

“If you try to forbid me from bedding my wife, Rhysand, we are going to have a problem,” Azriel snapped back icily.

A real problem, because he was not willing to give up Embelia under any circumstances. Not her and also not the pleasure they shared.

He regretted his words instantly. One could have heard a pin drop in the Dining Room of the River House at that moment because this was the last thing anybody had expected.

The last thing.

He had kept his wife and his daughter hidden and he had been completely content with that because it had kept them safe and secure and he hadn’t wanted to listen to anybody trying to talk him out of it or telling him it was a bad idea.

It was his fucking choice and he had never regretted it once.

“Your wife ,” Amren was the first that recovered. “Your wife?!”

“Yes.”

His wife. His daughter. His family.

The family he claimed. They were his.

“You don’t have a girlfriend but you have a wife ?” Mor repeated.

He just nodded.

“You got married. When?” she continued asking him and he met her gaze.

“About a year ago,” he answered. It had been just the two of them…and well, the babe slumbering in Emmie’s womb, but that was the whole reason for the wedding in the first place, right?

“You didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” Cassian complained, having suddenly recovered his ability to talk. “You got married and you didn’t tell us?”

Clearly.

“And you never thought that that was something we may want to know, Azriel?” Rhys asked, his voice icy but Azirel met the gaze of violet eyes with his own.

“If you believe it or not, I can just about manage my personal relationships or my amorous adventures without the input of you, High Lord,” he drawled.

There had been no reason to tell anybody. Least of all Rhys.

“That was not what that was about and you know it,” his brother hissed at him, but Azriel just shrugged.

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was.

Maybe it had really just been a political worry for Rhys, but that didn’t mean that what he had done, hadn’t hurt…didn’t mean that he hadn’t pulled rank with Azriel in a way he had only done so very rarely.

Rhys had gotten what he had wanted in the end. Elain and Lucien had figured it out…Day and Night were closer than ever.

And Azriel…well, he was still pissed off about what had gone down in Rhys’ office that Solstice. Fucking furious, to be honest. Even after Embelia had come into his life…even after she had married him. Even after the mating bond had snapped. He loved his wife, but he was still fucking furious about being treated like that.

Furious and hurt.

And maybe that had played into his decision as well.

There was no reason to tell Rhys what happened. No reason whatsoever.

Rhys must have caught that thought because the shimmer of night started to swirl around him, but Azriel wasn’t scared. He just raised a single eyebrow in question.

“No reason?” Rhys questioned harshly. “You are the Spymaster of this fucking court, Azriel! You don’t think that maybe I should know who you are cohabiting with? Who you share a bed with? Who you married? How long did you even know this female before you married her?”

“A few months,” he answered drily. “What do you think I talk about when I am with her? Bring up the secrets of the Night Court as Pillow Talk? Oh, I tortured a couple of faes from Hewn City this afternoon, oh, harder, love? ” He questioned with a roll of his eyes.

Feyre choked out a laugh.

Rhys did not find it amusing.

“Where did you even meet her?” he demanded.

“Why, Rhys, I just followed your orders. You told me to go to a pleasure hall so I did,” he shot back. He had followed that order to the fucking letter.

“So she’s a whore,” Rhys said and Azriel just looked at him.

Embelia wasn’t ashamed of what she had been. Quite frankly, neither was he. She had done what she needed to do to survive. He was never going to give her the fault for that. The fault was on Spring for slaughtering her family and on the Night Court that they hadn’t given better support so that she would have never gotten into a situation like this where that was the only way out.

But Embelia? She had been a whore. It was a simple fact. And she wore that proudly.

“She was. Yes,” he agreed and he could see it on Rhys’ face what he thought about that.

“You ordered Azriel to go to a pleasure hall?” Cassian asked. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because he fancied himself in love with Elain of all faes and I couldn’t have him bring our court to the brink of war because he couldn’t keep it in his pants!” Rhys growled. “So I told him to go to a pleasure hall and pay for it to get it out of his system.”

“Rhys!” Mor snapped, shock colouring her voice

“Clearly, I was right, because your infatuation didn’t last long after you were told no. How long did it take you until you were in that pleasure hall?” Rhys demanded. “A Day? A week?”

“Around 6 months,” he answered, his voice even. “After it became obvious that Elain was going to give in to Lucien…Once it became obvious that she wasn’t interested in me. Then I started visiting the Pleasure Hall. I married my wife 4 months later.”

“By the mother, Azriel, did all your good sense leave you?” Rhys asked him, shaking his head. “What were you thinking?” he demanded.

“That I love her,” Azriel said calmly. “I love her,” he repeated.

“Wow, she must have really been worth the money you spend on her,” Rhys drawled.

She had been. Every gold coin. Every fucking clipped copper he paid for her company. Everything had been worth it, just for Embelia’s company.

He didn’t even react to it. He had heard worse. But he could feel his rage grow with ever fucking word Rhys uttered.

“She is worth more than you will ever understand,” Azriel said quietly, his voice laced with steel.

Rhys glared at him. And then he said something so utterly inappropriate that the rage exploded.

“So that’s what you needed all the time? Some pretty female that opens her legs and suddenly she leads you around by your prick?”

It felt like somebody had sucked all the air out of that room.

Azriel’s blood boiled with anger and hurt, seething inside, his control barely keeping the darkness at bay.

He wanted to kill Rhys at that moment. He couldn’t remember ever being this angry before.

Having their relationship reduced to that…

Embelia’s face appeared in his mind, her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her touch.

His sanity.

He had made his choices, and he would stand by them. No one, not even Rhys, could make him regret loving Embelia.

“You can say whatever you want about me, but you say a single thing about my wife or my child and I’ll rip out your fucking throat, and don’t think for one moment that I won’t,” he snapped back harshly. “And yes, for the record, she was worth every fucking clipped copper, I spent on her. She was worth everything. I wanted to marry her. I asked her. I made that choice. She has done absolutely nothing but love me .”

“You got a kid too?!” Cassian piped up. “Az?” he asked and Azriel ground his teeth.

“Yes,” he bit out.

“How old?” Cassian asked quietly.

“3 months tomorrow,” Azriel answered honestly. Cassian stared at him, hazel eyes harsh.

“Boy or Girl?”

“Girl.”

“I got a niece and you haven’t told me?!” Cassian demanded. “How dare you! I owe her three months' worth of gifts and cuddles!”

“Cassian!” Nesta said sharply and Cassian started pouting.

“Are you sure that the kid is yours?” Rhys drawled.

He didn’t even bother to answer that question.

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood.

“Home,” he gave back clippedly. “I’d rather walk my daughter to sleep than listen to you insult her mother and ask if she’s actually my daughter.” His voice was dripping with disdain. “Like there ever were any questions about it. She got her mother’s wings and my colouring.”

***

Nobody followed him home. Which was a good thing because Azriel wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood at the moment. He was still furious. Utterly furious.

Even as he walked through the door of the cottage… right until he saw Embelia sit in the living room, in that overstuffed armchair and nurse their daughter. She looked up as he entered, smiling.

And suddenly, every bit of anger just went up in smoke, because he couldn’t care less.

Not when his mate was sitting there nursing his daughter, and it was so easy to just cross the room and drop to his knees before her, to let her reach out for him and run a hand over his hair and jaw and he leaned into her touch, breathing in the smell of earth and home and love.

Home. He was home, he was with her and that was all he cared about. He stared at his daughter, happily drinking…dark eyes closed in concentration, one pudgy little fist pressing against Embelia’s breast, clearly making sure that her source of milk was going nowhere and he pressed a kiss to her downy soft hair, breathing in the combination of scents of himself and Emmie that clung to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Embelia asked him softly and he just shook his head. No. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He just wanted to be with his girls. He just wanted to…He just wanted to be right there.

“You are the best things that ever happened to me,” he whispered hoarsely.

A gift from the mother herself, and he still wondered every fucking day how he deserved both of them.

Emmie ran a hand through his curls, staying quiet, as their daughter stopped drinking and he reached out to take her.

Embelia happily relinquished her hold on her, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek, and a soft touch to their daughter’s wings…iridescent black.

Her wings. His colouring.

No question about it.

He walked her to sleep like he always did when he could be there, pressing her little body tight to his chest, a scarred hand holding her as carefully as she was made out of spun gold.

Emmie had laughed at him at the start, at how carefully he held her, telling him that she was a baby and would survive it if he kissed and cuddled her. Still, he had been terrified of hurting her.

She was so small, and his hands were so big and broad and scarred and…

But sometime during the last few weeks, he had realised that his daughter…his daughter would never look at his hands as anything other than the hands that had held her and comforted her. She would grow up with these scars…she probably wouldn’t even notice them.

They would just be a fact of life to her.

So he walked her, the slow swaying circles around their living room that he always made to calm her as much as him, as Embelia tidied around the living room, got ready for bed, and made herself comfortable for the night.

He could hear the bath running as he felt the touch against his mind. It wasn’t Rhys.

It was Feyre.

He was surprised enough that he let her slide in, just a little bit, and he knew that she caught a glimpse of the baby in his arms as he felt the surprise register.

“She’s beautiful.” It was nearly a coo in which she said that, much to his amusement and pleasure, taking in the iridescent wings that lay folded over her back.

“She got it from her mother.”

It was the truth. Embelia was the most beautiful fae he had ever laid eyes on. The kind of beauty wars were fought over, that brought males trembling to their knees…Azriel easily admitted that he also met that particular criteria.

“You missed a knockdown drag-out fight between Rhys and Cassian…And then Mor and Nesta decided that they should also get a word in.”

That was not what he had expected, to be quite honest.

He had half expected that he was going to end up taking his wife and his daughter and find someplace else for them to live.

“Amren stopped them from levelling the city,” Feyre said drily. It should have amused him, but it didn’t. Not really.

“You should have come to me after that solstice, I would have told Rhys that he was being ridiculous,” Feyre told him drily. “I’ll deal with him. I promise.”

“It’s fine,” he waved her off. It was fine.

Right now at least. He never could stay angry when he got to be home when he got to hold his daughter. How could he be angry when he got to hold her?

He didn’t want to be angry when he held her…He just wanted to breathe in her scent and feel every bit of tension bleed out of him.

A snuffling sound came from his daughter, then a heart belch…and her little body relaxed against his, clearly on her way to the land of dreams.

“No, it’s not, he should have never done that,” Feyre cut him off. “Or talk to you like that for that matter. Neither on Solstice nor today. I’ll make sure he understands that. It won’t happen again. You can expect an apology tomorrow.”

Now he was amused. It bled all over Feyre, who just huffed. “What, do you doubt that I can make him apologise?” she challenged him.

“Of course not, High Lady,” he promised her. If anybody could get Rhys to weaken in his stance, then it would be his mate. And that was exactly why he had never told Feyre, never wanted to bring her into a position where she was in disagreement with her mate.

“So congrats on that wedding,” Feyre said suddenly. “We owe you a gift or two, I think…Who knows what Mor is gonna come up with…” He could just hold back the snort at that but could feel Feyre’s amusement leech all over his mind. “Can I…” she trailed off, unsure for a moment. “May I see her?” she asked, curious and delighted for him all the same. He could feel that.

He pushed a memory at her, from that afternoon…of his wife and his daughter in that spring sun, in that flower field, their wings glittering and fluttering, Embelia’s pink hair falling to her waist in soft waves and curls, their daughter with his dark hair and her wings, curled up in her mother’s arms, grinning gummily at her…Happiness was oozing from every second of that screenshot.

“You are beyond lucky,” Feyre said quietly.

“I know.”

He knew that with every fibre of his being.

“What’s her name?” Feyre wondered. “She’s beautiful.”

She was. Gorgeous in fact. And that wasn’t just coloured by the fact that she was his wife and his mate…but she was gorgeous.

“Embelia,” he answered Feyre. “Family calls her Emmie though.” He called her that, some of her friends did as well. It was what she was most comfortable with.

“And your daughter’s? What’s her name?” Feyre asked.

It had taken them months to settle on a name, and then finally, it had been so easy.

“Aster.”

“A Star and a Flower,” Feyre realised with some amusement.

“Embelia thought it was just fair.”

#acotar fanfiction #the Unexpected series #unknowing #my writing #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic

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sapphosclosefriend · 10 months

Text

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

��Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

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okay but what about virgin eddie being eager to please and the reader showing him the ropes and he’s just naturally so good at it :( i need it :(

oh anon what are you doing to me!

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, cumming in pants, corruption kink, reader really likes that eddie is a virgin, car sex, dubious content (i think? reader rubs up against him without consent?), dirty talk, lots of eddie being called pretty and handsome!!

Word Count | 2.8K

A/N | i really took this and ran with it, god damn!! virgin!eddie just does things to me the boy is SO corruptible. i need help, jesus and a nap after this.

You sort of knew he was at least inexperienced from the get go. You'd met working at the local record store and doing the late shifts together. You never missed the way he'd get so flustered any time you'd pay him a compliment.

'Eddie you look so nice today', 'wow Eddie you should wear your hair up more often it looks good', or when you'd greet him with a 'hey handsome' or 'hey pretty boy' and he'd stumble over his words and go beet red. You could tell he didn't really get chicks, it was obvious by the way that all he could talk about on Monday mornings were his D&D campaigns that he played with literal sophomores.

Twenty year olds who barely skim by to graduate after their third year repeat of senior year didn't get babes. He knew that, you knew that. But you were so attracted to him anyway, you got a sick thrill out of how easy it was to panic him and make him blush.

You gave Eddie a ride home from work every night, the trailer park was a fair few miles from the shop and his van went bust a few months prior so it was sat like an antique with grass growing around it just outside his front door. Wayne made a point of complaining about it a lot when you were in earshot.

'Either fix the damn thing or get the piece of crap towed away. I know we live in a trailer park but we sure as shit ain't tramps.'

So yeah. He wasn't necessarily a lady killer but he was just so pretty to look at and it made your stomach do funny jumps. He was so passionate too, he could talk for hours about his guitar or Lord of the Rings and he remembered every little detail. Soaked in everything you'd ever say and remember it for next time.

So sue you. You liked Eddie 'the freak' Munson who was just the sweetest, prettiest boy you'd ever met. And you needed to corrupt him.

You were subtle to begin with. When you'd shuffle by him in the store you'd make sure to get as close to him as possible as if the space was just too tight for anymore room. You'd lay a hand on his waist to brush past, lightly dance your fingers on his shoulder. 'Whoops, sorry' you'd say when your ass would brush past his dick, you'd pretend not to notice his flustered look and his stumbling words.

It all came to a head on one Saturday night as you were driving Eddie home. Dio's Holy Diver playing as background noise. You bonded over your love of the same bands too, you'd occasionally catch his eyes go all gooey when you'd talk about Metallica. You couldn't help but notice the ways his eyes would wander over your chest, where a band shirt would usually be sitting. The way he'd look at your legs in your fishnets and tight skirts. Stutter when you'd catch him and give him a wink.

But anyway, this particular Saturday you'd asked if he wanted to go to a fast food joint for some burgers before going home. You were, admittedly, starving after bailing on lunch in favour of helping Eddie with the new shipment of vinyl that had came in.

Eddie was a gentleman, offering to pay for the burgers since you'd been driving him home and who were you to refuse a free meal. He took them to go so you could drive to a place somewhere quiet and eat in silence.

You drove up to a spot you went to occasionally when you needed some time to sit and relax on your own. It was essentially an old junk yard full of shitty banger cars but nobody ever came out here and it was nice for watching the stars on a clear night.

You eat your burgers mostly in silence, both of you chomping down like you hadn't eaten in days. You're sat in a silky leopard print skirt, fishnets all torn around your inner thighs from them rubbing together all day. You sit really unladylike, legs open and comfortable.

You catch Eddie peaking again.

"Eddie, sweetheart, its only a pair of thighs." You say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence in favour of embarrassing him, "You see them everyday."

Eddie flusters a little, mouth still full of burger but he stops chewing and goes bright red, floundering for words, "S-sorry, uh, fuck I can't help but look. Your tights are all torn." He points out, motioning towards the large holes.

"Babe, you can't honestly tell me that's the reason you were looking," You say, balling up your fast food paper and tossing it in the back without looking, "you're trying to catch a glimpse of my princess parts."

A laugh bubbles out of your mouth at the use of those words, only using them to tease Eddie and his seemingly virginal ways. Worried if you call it a pussy he'll open the door and flee.

"Uh, eh, I wouldn't know much about that," Eddie cringes at his own words, he can't even look at you and it's just so endearing, "I can't say I've ever seen one."

You gawp a little bit. Taken aback by his confession.

"What do you mean, Eddie?" You ask, the teasing way in your voice only coming out just a smidge now, "You've never...?"

"God, don't make me say it, sweetheart," Eddie grimaces, tossing the last of his burger on the dashboard, hunger long forgotten at the embarrassing conversation, "I'm a twenty year old virgin. Laugh all you want, you should."

"I'm not gonna laugh," You say, all too quickly, "I just can't believe no girl, or guy maybe, has ever pinned you down and just ridden the shit out of you. You're really hot, Eddie. I mean, really hot."

Eddie's cheeks flush so dark they're almost purple and suddenly he's shuffling awkwardly in his seat next to you, like he's trying to cover himself from you.

"Hey pretty boy," Your voice is barely above a whisper now, you lean over and tug at his arm to get him to turn to you again, "I find that kinda... hot."

Eddie scoffs at that but lets you move his arm, your fingers beginning to dance down it, edging closer to his wrist, "Yeah, right. You don't have to lie to me I know it's ridiculous. Who the fuck is still a virgin at this age unless it's by choice?"

"Means you're all kinds of corruptible, handsome." You're not teasing anymore, bringing your hand further down to drag your fingers over his knuckles, "Makes me kinda hot and bothered."

"Oh, oh right," Eddie sucks in a breath and shudders, Jesus Christ this guy has no game and it's so fucking cute you're about to burst. Your cunt is twitching already just thinking about ruining him.

"Maybe I could show you the ropes? Y'know? How to touch a girl an' get her going?" You suggest, and you can see the goosebumps littering Eddie's arms, "Obviously so that when you find a girl you really like you can wow her."

A strangled little noise caught between a whimper and a sigh escapes Eddie's lips, his head thumps back against the headrest on his seat, displaying his gorgeous expanse of neck, the veins protruding in ways you can't ignore. Admittedly, he's already got you going without even having to touch you, and you know now that you're fucked.

"You gotta say yes or no, handsome. Just so I know you're into this and I'm not adding two plus two and getting five," Your voice is gentle as you finally grip hold of Eddie's wrist gently, dragging it over to rest on your inner thigh. His fingers flex on the skin, gripping ever so slightly, making you exhale a shaky little moan.

"I, uh, I would like to. But I'm gonna be shit, no point denying it," Eddie barks out a little sarcastic laugh, his brows furrowing together.

"Oh, honey," You giggle, "you're a guitar player. Those fingers already know what to do without me having to show them. I'll just tell you what to do, where to press, how fast I like it, how hard. Can you listen to me and do that?"

You chance a glance down at his crotch and can see the thick outline of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. Your mouth practically starts salivating, already eager to know just exactly how it looks. In your daydreams it was big, but looking now in the dim light at his concealed erection, it was obvious just how big it truly was.

You get up from your seat, shuffling a little so you can swing a leg over and perch yourself in Eddie's lap, gasping a little when you sink down just enough to rub your cunt along his hardness. Eddie bites down on his lip, a strangled, breathy moan leaving him.

"This okay?" You ask, just to make sure, and he's nodding so fast he could get whiplash. You take ahold of Eddie's right hand again, sliding it under your skirt to let his palm rest lightly over your pussy, letting him feel the heat and the damp patch that's formed in your cotton panties so quickly, "You've done this to me already and you haven't even touched me yet."

"Really? Shit," Eddie looks up at you with wide brown eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. He's so eager, letting his fingers run over your clothed folds, dipping a finger in between experimentally and smiling a little when you moan, "Can I, uh, can I move your panties out of the way?"

"Go for it, handsome. Get a good feel." You're back to smirking again, but not for long when Eddie hooks two fingers into the elastic of your panties and pull them to the side, exposing your puffy little cunt to the cold air. You gasp when two hot fingers rub between your lips, catching on your clit just barely, "Okay, can you find where my clit is?"

Eddie nods eagerly, running his fingers back up and pressing on that little hard bundle of nerves, his cock twitching at the feeling of your slick in between his fingers, "There, right?" He asks, just to make sure, but it's obvious by the way you bite your lip and whine.

"Yes there, fuck, Eddie if you do good for me this really isn't gonna last long," You admit, throwing your head back a little, "just rub me there in small circles, I like it fast."

Eddie's fingers start to almost expertly rub you in circular motions, his calloused fingertips catching and dragging your clit in the most delicious way. You turn into a whining mess quite quickly, especially when his free hand comes up to grab at the meat of your thigh to hold you in place.

"God, handsome, you're really good at this, uh," You choke on your own tongue when he speeds up a little, "wanna use that free hand and slip your fingers in me?"

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, glossy eyes dancing a little, "you sure?"

You nod excitedly, knees buckling a little when you feel his hand come up under your skirt, the pads of two fingers swirling around your entrance. You can't believe he's never done this before, you half expected him to not even know where your hole was never mind anything else. He looks into your eyes, raising his brows a little in a silent question and you nod again.

Eddie sinks his fingers in all the way to the hilt immediately and it makes you gasp, the breach unexpected but certainly not unpleasant. A nice stretch, the cold of his thick rings on the rim of your cunt making you shiver, "Pump them in and out of me and try to find a, Jesus, a rhythm that matches your fingers on my clit."

"Does this feel good?" Eddie asks, and it's clearly meant to be in earnest but it sends hot flushes all up your spine, his long fingers beginning to pump in and out of you slowly.

"God, yeah, yeah it does, Eddie." You whine, hips having a mind of their own and helping him with the process, helping his fingers sink in and out, "Crook them a lil, you'll find a soft spot, kinda feels like a sponge."

Eddie's brows furrow together, his fingers starting to falter both inside of you and on your clit as he tries to find a rhythm. It comes back to him quickly, both of his fingers sunk deep in your cunt crooking ever so slightly and finding your gspot almost immediately.

You choke out a moan that sounds wet, like you're about to cry, "Fuck, right there, handsome. Keep doing that, m'gonna cum."

His fingers are heavenly dancing inside of you. His assault on your clit is hard and fast and soon enough you're so wet that you can feel it running out of you, probably slicking Eddie's hand, wrist and arm with creamy slick, "How does it feel for you, Eddie?"

You're looking at each other and the lust is apparent in Eddie's face, the way his brown doe eyes are hazily watching you, "Feels so good. Your pussy feels like heaven on my fingers, you're so tight."

"Fuck, dirty talking already are we?" You almost squeal, a hot flush taking over your whole body as you chase your orgasm, "Love hearing dirty words coming from your mouth about me, keep going."

Eddie leans forward, hot mouth kissing and sucking wetly at your tits, your collarbones, your neck, "Y'like that? Like my fingers in you? You're whining like a little slut."

You fucking lose it at being called a slut, the mixture of his hands, his mouth and the obscene slicking sounds coming from your cunt have your legs buckling, your stomach twisting as you reach your high, cumming so hard that your pussy constricts and grips at Eddie's fingers tightly, a loud moan slipping from your mouth, hands automatically coming up to grip at his curls as your hips fuck back and forth, riding out your orgasm.

You're sensitive, shivering a little as Eddie rubs you through the last of it, so you rest a gentle hand on his wrist to let him know to stop. He stops immediately, long fingers sliding out of your cunt slowly as not to startle you.

"Was - was that okay?" He asks, looking at you again with those gorgeous, stupid doe eyes, the nervousness back and apparent in his voice. You're all orgasm stupid, barely able to keep your eyes open, so you lean forward and smash your lips onto his, greedily lapping your way into his mouth with your tongue as a way of confirming it was good.

Eddie's big hands come to encircle around your waist, deepening the kiss. So, okay, he's not the best kisser just yet but you can show him that too. It's sloppy and wet and everything you need right this second.

Your hips begin to rub along the length of Eddie's still painfully hard cock straining in his pants, you put down enough weight to grind perfectly against him, your sensitive clit loving the friction of the thick denim running against it.

"Wha-" Eddie pulls away from your lips, confusion on his face turning to ecstasy, a moan escaping him. Fuck, he's so loud it's making you flutter.

"Was gonna try an' get a hand on your cock but that can be for another day," You hum, hips still gliding back and forth roughly, "wanna see you cum in your pants, though."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're - uh, god - what you're doing to me," Eddie's whimpering, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, matting down his fringe, "m'gonna cum, shit, shit, I'm cumming."

You watch every bit of it, the way the veins in his neck pop, his eyes squeezing shut as he vibrates against you, fingers squeezing you so hard it'll bruise. Fuck, he's so pretty you want to die, you can't believe you're the first person to make him cum and you didn't even have to lay a hand on him.

When Eddie eventually opens his eyes, the blush is back on his cheeks, as if he's mortified by what he just did, "Damn, twenty years old and I just came in my pants like a teenager."

"It was hot, pretty boy," you sigh, leaning down to peck his lips, "I'll get a hand on you soon though, I need that thick cock everywhere on me."

He whines at that, hips bucking up of their own accord, "Fuck, you dunno what you're doing to me, sweetheart."

"Corrupting you, Eds. And you're gonna love every fucking minute."

#ha fuck i cant stop imagining corrupting virgin!eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #stranger things #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader #fem reader #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn smut #virgin!eddie #virgin!eddie munson

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roturo · 1 year

Text

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

INUMAKI TOGE X READER

SUMMARY: meeting up with your old friends sounded like a good idea, turns out lying and saying you and your ex ended up as a friends would include him there, so that was a bad idea of yours.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, subspace, exes!to lovers, use of curse energy for sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of sign language, almost caught, after care, dacryphilia.

Life has been great.

Ever since you broke up with Inumaki things have been just fine. Both of you decided to end up as friends. Which might be awkward between the both of you but when you’re together around other people it wasn’t that bad.

You decided to focus on your training, even though it became a little bit too much to be at the same place with your ex… so you decided to live alone and start a new life. College is a new experience and it has been really fun! Training at home wasn’t as effective and efficient as training with Gojo-sensei and your friends… but, you felt more comfortable this way.

Some days you felt like exorcizing some curse and just walked through the city and found one.

Just for fun.

That’s what Maki told you. ‘Let’s hang out all of us together like the old times! Just for some fun!’

And everything was going great! But you never expected Yuuji to enter next to Inumaki into Maki’s room. You haven’t seen him in like four? six months? It’s been a while…

And to say he looked even more handsome than last time is understandable. Half a year and he grew up. He seemed taller than last time, his shoulders broader, and his hands…

You scold yourself for staring too long at him. His eyes locked with yours and a small awkward silence was in the room. But thankfully, Yuuji couldn’t tolerate silence and proposed to order some pizza and talk about how things have been.

You told them about your new friends at college, how you've been auto-training yourself, and how you felt like a new person.

Inumaki felt nostalgic. Watching you grow up and create a life without him made him sad. Thinking about the old times and how you talked to him for hours about having a family. How you stayed with him even if he couldn’t communicate himself like others, he loved you, and he missed you.

You missed him too, and when Maki asked if you were comfortable right now, even if your ex is literally like less than two meters in front of you, you said, ‘yeah! why not, we didn’t end on bad terms! can’t do people reconnect? I only see him as a friend.’

The biggest lie you ever said.

But the both of you knew those glance you gave each other, you needed the other… So when Maki accompanied Yuuji for the pizza you couldn’t control yourself.

And I mean like you couldn’t control yourself literally, he controlled you. He took his hands off.

‘Follow me.’

Your body was moving without your permission. Following Inumaki to what you assumed was his room. A tingly feeling dressed as nervousness was appearing in the low part of your tummy.

You felt anxious? excited? euphoric?

You missed him so much it was hurting, so when you got inside his room, thinking about if what’s going to occur was correct, you stared at your phone for some second before murmuring to yourself ‘fuck it, it’s fine’ —the first thing you did when you had control back was send a text to Maki.

‘I’m sleeping in another place.’ Maybe she’ll think you didn’t feel comfortable enough and needed to leave.

But maybe that’s not the case. You might sleep on someone else's sheets.

‘Inumaki…’

‘Shh… Undress yourself.’— You wanted to first kiss him, but he seemed eager to have you— and how could you say no? Maybe he wasn’t even controlling you and you were doing it for your own taste.

Feeling vulnerable in front of him— he grabbed you by the waist pulling you closer to his clothes body and started kissing you like a hungry man— You missed his touch and he missed yours.

Coming here wasn’t a bad idea… right?

Wrong.

Your body was sore and twitching of how many times he has made you cum. He’s been eating you out for hours now— with just one word making you cut whenever he felt like it. Making symbols on your pussy of what you suppose it’s his curse marks— Your eyes were full of tears, vision blurry and feeling dizzy.

‘N-no more ‘Inu..’

‘Osaka ‘ Was all he said, keeping a straight face before watching you before continuing eating you out— ‘Squirt.’ Your body shook before your vision turned black and everything felt a thousand times more— his fingers inside of you, slurping your fluids out of you. It was a disgusting mess— but he loved watching you turn into a mess thanks to him. It was his mess.

He never abused so much of his power on you, but this time it was different. He needed you, he wanted you.

Once he felt he got enough of your poor and used pussy, he got up— Watching you trying to keep your eyes open. Makeup ruined, hair tangled and tears coming down your eyes. You felt fucked out— feeling sore on parts of your body you never thought could get sore. Trying to plead for your sanity was met with deaf ears.

He started unbuckling his belt, and turned his middle and ring finger down, making the sign ‘I love you’ before signaling he missed you so much and needed you. Sign language was a common thing between the both of you because of his cursed technique. Just a few words, because it’s like destiny brought the two of you together because in some ways you always knew what the other needed.

He teased your cunt with his dick before inserting it in. You were on missionary, him on top of you while he admired the mess you became. He thrusted inside of you with no warning, your fucked up pussy with no need to make it even more sensitive for you to cum, he just started searching for his release.

When he watched you not even being able to say coherent words, tears just streaming down your face, your eyes almost closed and moans coming out of your mouth was enough for him to cum inside of you. The fucked up image of you— thanks to him— will be forever engraved in his mind. He needs you, he needs to be back together.

He groaned at the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock once he came, his body shaking before laying down beside you. Heavy breathings filling the room, he looked back at you and found you staring at him too. A smile adorned his face, moving his body so he could hug yours— playing with your hair and giving you small pecks he heard a knock on his door.

He supposed you’re still in a subspace and grabbed his boxers, slightly opening the door so only his face was visible— a confused blushed Yuuji was in front of his door. ‘Inumaki, the pizza is here. We can’t find Y/N though… Do you know where she is?…’

‘Go with Maki.’ Were the words he let out, Yuuji’s body moved without his permission, leaving him alone.

He looked behind and saw you taking small breaths, your chest going up and down— He smiled to himself, before he grabbed a warm cloth and and started cleaning you up— He searched for some candy he used to have in his room since you were always craving them, he grabbed one water bottle too and repositioned you so your now resting on his pillows. He sat next to you, playing with your hair, waiting till you came back to reality.

Once you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Inumaki staring at you— Eyes full of love while he played with your hair. You moved so your body was not sitting on his bed, you noticed you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and your panties— You supposed he put them on, he touched your arm and gave you some water and your favorite candy. You looked back at him— surprised he still had some of them here, you smiled at him and drank some water.

You didn’t notice he grabbed a notebook and was writing something until he gave it to you.

‘Can we get back together? You’re all I need, all I love. I would kill any curse, person, thing who tries to hurt you, everything… just to have you back in my arms.’

#inumaki toge #inumaki smut #inumaki toge smut #inumaki x reader #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Lovers and Love.

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: pregnancy (if you don't like don't read), descriptions of morning sickness, anxiety, angst, illusions to sex

a/n back to your regularly scheduled program i dont wanna hear it i don’t write pregnancy stories often (i say this with a modern day au pregnancy joel fic in my drafts). literally my third in a year (back during my wattpad days I would solely write pregnancy stories. ew). i really like how this turned out though, the length is good

summary Y/N tries to hide that she is pregnant and Joel finds out

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read time: 8 mins 47 seconds

“What’s filling that pretty head of yours lately?” Joel asked between each chop of the wood.

“Oh, nothing.” you lied.

“You looked mighty focused on that rock just a minute ago.”

“Better than looking at you chopping wood,” you scoffed sarcastically, getting Joel’s scent off your trail.

What you were really thinking about? The last time you got your period.

Each swing of the axe made you cringe. You begged to think of something different, but the thought had filled your mind for the past few days when your expected period didn’t arrive.

You and Ellie had swept out an old convenience store about a month ago. Ellie found some period products and gave some to you and it made you think.

When was the last time you got your period?

Ever since you were a child you dreamed of being a mother. Raising a family with someone you loved. But when the world fell to cordyceps, that idea was quickly left in the past with every other hope and dream you ever had.

This was no environment for an adult, let alone a child. A baby was an absolute no. The constant crying would attract any creature in a mile radius. It wouldn’t get the proper nutrition babies needed to grow. And giving birth in this world was a borderline death sentence.

And your baby’s daddy? The man you had been hooking up with on the low.

He was meant to move the cargo. You assisted the cargo and made sure it behaved.

It wasn’t your fault when Ellie was captured by David and you and Joel had to hide out in a shed one night alone.

Or maybe that time Ellie went out hunting.

Or the time Joel had to cover your mouth and tell you to shut up because she was asleep in the next room.

You knew Ellie wasn’t a dumb kid, but you were just praying she wasn’t that smart.

But pregnancy tests were nonexistent. Most of them you assumed would be expired. Can pregnancy tests even expire? And condoms, come on. It would honestly be funny if Joel pulled one out as a joke. There was no way any of those were still in use at least five years after the breakout.

“Y/N!” Joel yelled, catching your attention. The volume of his voice caught you off guard. “What’s wrong with you, seriously?” he scoffed, flipping his axe in his hand.

Brushing him off, you helped him carry wood into the small abandoned cabin you had found for the night.

Ellie was sitting on the matted couch with her leg resting on top of the coffee table in what was left of the living room. If you squinted, it looked almost normal. No clickers, no cannibals, just a normal world, a normal Ellie sitting in a normal house.

You needed to quickly get the idea of a normal world out of your head. It wasn’t here anymore. You couldn’t hope and dream like you used to. It wasn’t the time for fantasy land anymore. This was serious shit.

“Thank god, I am fucking freezing!” Ellie announced, rubbing her hands together.

Joel dropped his few planks of wood on the ground. “I’m gonna go look for some blankets and supplies upstairs. Ellie, help Y/N with the fire.”

Ellie groaned and slammed her feet on the floor one by one from the coffee table dramatically. You could already imagine the eye roll she had just given him.

You began arranging the logs into a nice stack. Joel had cut enough to easily last you through the night and maybe into the morning.

“You doin’ okay?” Ellie asked, searching through her backpack for the matches. “Mhm,” you lied, watching her scratch the match and throw it in the dry fireplace.

“Joel said something about-” “It doesn’t matter what Joel said.” you cut her off. Ellie rested back on her legs. She was very obviously disappointed you wouldn’t tell her what was wrong.

Was it really that obvious?

“What did I say now?” Joel asked from the banister. He was carrying blankets in his hands he found in the bedrooms. He had a big smile plastered on his face that only widened when your eyes met his.

Just imagine how he would be. Carrying down blankets for you and your child to make a fort together. Making popcorn and watching a movie as the sky became dark. The child would fall asleep in your arms and the two of you would stare at each other and appreciate the world, the life you made together.

You broke eye contact with him and shook your head.

How could you let yourself think like that?

“That I was the best clicker killer in the group.” Ellie made up, lightening the mood. “Oh really now?” Joel chuckled, throwing all of the sheets down on Ellie.

“Oh thank god, warmth.” she sighed, wrapping herself in as many blankets as she could hold.

You snatched a blanket from Ellie with a smirk and moved in front of the fire. You saw the sun setting from one of the still intact windows. Joel made the bold move of laying directly next to you. Normally you would have been so touched by this little bit of public affection (even though the definition of public, for now, was just Ellie), but you were so exhausted by your mind games from the day that you couldn’t care less.

Ellie curled up next to you. She moved into your chest, wrapping her arms around one of yours. Poor Joel, Ellie got all your affection tonight after all.

After a few minutes, she was asleep.

“You wanna meet upstairs in a bit? Tell her your takin’ a piss or something.” Joel whispered in your ear. His wide hand touched your back, making you tense. He was craving your touch you could tell. It had been a few weeks since your last hookup. “No. Not tonight,” you whispered back, pulling Ellie closer.

“Hey,” he said in a low tone. You turned your head to look at him. “What’s really goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “I know when your lying.” he sighed. “Joel, drop it.” you hissed.

Ellie’s head looked up at yours. You felt the movement and immediately reacted.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. Go back to sleep now,” you said sweetly to her, brushing her hair to the side of her face. You could tell Joel noticed how you called her baby girl. That’s what he called her.

“What’s happening?” she asked groggily. “Nothing important. Now back to sleep. We need our energy for tomorrow.” You gave her a reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

Ellie nodded and resumed back to her sleeping spot in your arms.

Joel now sat against the couch, watching the two of you interact.

After a moment of silence to make sure Ellie was asleep again, he spoke.

“You would make a great mother one day.”

Your head whipped around and the look on your face said it all.

“With Ellie ‘n stuff. Sorry,” Joel muttered, rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans nervously. The man never usually let his guard down and say vulnerable things like that and you could tell he was disappointed by your reaction.

“Good night Joel,” you said sincerely. He was right. Ellie was like a little sister to you.

On the brink of sleep, you heard him throw another log on the fire. Blankets shuffled and there was a defining silence. Then the thought hit you.

There was no way he knew, right?

The faces matched so perfectly but yet were so different. Joel stood in a kitchen, the kitchen in the house you grew up in. You followed the scent of some sort of food and wandered into the kitchen. Your balance seemed off to you. Looking down, you were met by a large bump. No toes could be seen.

“Mama!” you heard. Your head whipped around to the kitchen table. It was the same oak as you remembered it. A baby sat in a high chair. It had curly (your color hair) and Joel’s eyes. It scared you how fast you recognized his features. Unremarkably, they were copied onto the baby's face. “Come on now, eat your breakfast,” Ellie said, encouraging the child. She appeared next to them with a spoon in her hand, making airplane noises as the child laughed.

“Ellie! Did you finish your homework?” Joel asked her. The oh-so-familiar groan escaped from her lips.

“Yes… maybe…” she began to say as the dream began to fade.

You shot upright, breathing heavily. Then the feeling arose from your stomach.

“Y/N?” Joel asked, shielding his face from the sun rays displaying over his eyes. He watched you run to the kitchen that was left of the living room.

The kitchen sink was the victim of your vomit.

Joel quickly stood up and went to your side. His hand returned to its spot from the previous night.

“It’s okay,” he said. You could tell he was trying to calm you, but it also sounded like he was trying to calm himself.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks as the vomiting came to an end.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “No, no. Stop, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Joel… please,” you stuttered. You embraced him. His surprisingly warm figure held yours tightly. “It’s okay,” he said again.

“You want to try to go back to sleep?” he asked you. Hesitantly, you shook your head yes.

Thank god Ellie was a deep sleeper when she had been asleep for a while. You could just imagine her putting the puzzle pieces together and announcing it without a second thought. She is a smart girl.

Joel held you on the wood floor. The two of you didn’t care if Ellie woke up to find your embrace. Sleep didn’t return to you, but a sense of peace did. You forgot about the world, the pregnancy, the cold, and the anger for just a moment. It was just you and Joel. The way it should be.

“Good morning Mom and Dad,” Ellie said, poking her foot into your shoulder.

Your eyes fluttered open from their relaxed state. “Go find some breakfast and shut it.” you hissed at her. Joel adjusted his hold on you, sighing in your ear.

“Some kid, huh?” he whispered.

“Tell me about-”

“Eugh! What the hell happened here?” Ellie yelled from the kitchen.

“I got food poisoning. Leave it,” you yelled to the kitchen, coming up with your best lie.

“Before we leave you should look upstairs. I thought I saw some clothes you might like. Warmer for the winter too,” Joel grunted, sitting up straight and stretching his arms behind his back.

Using the coffee table to help you up, you trotted across the cold floor and made your way upstairs.

The first bedroom was empty. The second had a few long sleeve tee shirts and a pair of jeans that would fit you. At least for now. You picked up a sweatshirt for Ellie and a book she might like.

The third bedroom seemed to be a children’s room. You were going to look for something smaller for Ellie, but when you opened the first drawer you were met with rows of baby clothes.

Your hands ran over the patterns on the onesies. A baby girl had lived here. Your heart ached as you tried not to think about what her fate had possibly been.

You opened another drawer and it was filled with baby shoes. The memories of swooning over the baby shoes at the store when you were younger filled your mind. The memory of little Y/N mentally picking out which shoes her baby would wear one day warmed your heart.

Opening the top drawer again, you looked through the clothes. You let yourself choose four, one for each season. Easy enough to keep hidden in your backpack. You were too busy looking at the clothes to notice Joel leaning against the doorframe.

You only noticed him when you turned to put the clothes into your backpack.

Audibly gasping, you dropped your bag on the ground along with the onesies.

“I… I-”

“Don’t,” Joel sighed. He bent down and grabbed your bag along with the baby clothes.

“You really thought I didn’t know?” he chuckled, slowly opening the zipper to your backpack.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, face burning red. It’s all you could manage to say. Your brain felt numb.

“No, Y/N. It takes two, remember?” he smiled, holding up a onesie in front of him.

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he chuckled, beginning to fold the clothes. You stared at him astonished.

He was taking this news surprisingly well. You expected him to leave you somewhere, or even worse. The fact that he was smiling and folding clothes for a baby in this world was shocking.

“How did you know?” you asked him. He gave you the side eye and smirked. “I know your body like the back of my hand. I just have to close my eyes and…”

Joel closed his eyes and the stupidest grin grew on his face.

“Stop it!” you blushed, giving him a playful slap on the arm. “I notice things, darling,” he said, assuring you everything was right.

“How long have you known?” you asked him. You nervously dragged your finger across the dresser’s carved pattern. “Week maybe. Figured it was either that or you were hidin’ a bite. I prayed you were pregnant instead of bitten.”

“You also were avoiding me as much as you could,”

You looked at your shoes. “I really just didn’t want to think about… you. This.” you admitted.

“I’m not mad, sweetheart. Pick a few more, I have room in my bag.”

You opened the drawer again and went for your second pics.

“Your not mad?” you asked him. “I’m not thrilled. When I figured it out it wasn’t fun. But now…”

“What about now?” you asked him. Joel sighed.

“If I heard right…” he began.

“My shithead little brother has started a settlement up in Jackson.”

“Tommy?” you asked, folding a pair of baby shorts. “Get ‘sum them shoes too,” Joel muttered, pulling at the handle of the drawer.

“Jackson’s about a few day ride from here. I can't guarantee he’ll be happy to see me but it’s our best hope.” he assured you, placing his hand back on your back. This time you accepted his touch and pushed back on it.

You both agreed that would be the next step in your journey.

“Any name suggestions?” he asked you, handing you back your backpack.

“Jesus Joel, I haven’t even thought about that.” you said, swinging it on your back.

“What about Ellie Junior?” you heard her ask from the hall.

You and Joel made quick eye contact and then looked back at Ellie. Your mouth fell slightly open. The fear expressed over your face, you were basically a deer in headlights.

She walked into the bedroom with a shameful look on her face. “I wasn’t trying to listen I promise. This house seems to echo.”

The t

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @undeniableadrenaline @evyiione @qualitypudding @jmillerswife @mxtokko

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bvidzsoo · 7 months

Text

Fine Line Of Our Worlds

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: cursing, suggestive

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Word count: 40,3k

Summary: Song Mingi didn't choose to become a Pirate, but after getting saved by the crew, he decided to stay. Nobody at home would miss him, they didn't like him much. However, he would miss his riches dearly, teeth always aching for gold and money. He was a little kleptomaniac, it's mostly why he was punished so often back at home. But here, with Ateez, he was free to do whatever and he loved the idea. You were also rich, very rich. You had ties to the royal family, but never said much about it since it was due to your mother's bloodline, who died giving birth to you. You were daddy's little girl, always getting whatever you wanted, never reprimanded for anything. But your life was boring, you were closed inside your mansion's walls all day long and the only people you could torment to have fun were your maids, who grew tired of your antics. Let's not forget the fact that you also loved stealing. It started out as a little talent of yours when you were just a child, but growing up you realized it became a very unconscious habit. And one night, Mingi seemed to come into your life just at the right moment, sweeping your off your feet, quite literally, and taking you onto a Pirate ship, your fates interlacing forever. (Reader is called Yoon Areum in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Oh, my God, my lovelies!!! I swear to GOD this was NEVER supposed to be this long I can't believe I wrote something THIS long, like I'm CRYING TEARS OF JOY. This is the longest and biggest oneshot I've EVER written and oh my God, idk what to do with myself anymore. I am so so curious what you all will think of it, so please, let me know your thoughts about this monster of a fic lol! I am really sorry for the super long wait for this part, but I believe nothing is accidental, and the timing is perfect for this fic as I'm sure months ago this story wouldn't have turned out like this, because I wasn't so feral for Song Mingi back then, LOL. Check out the previous parts if you haven't already, as they are tightly woven together! I hope you enjoy, and happy reading now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni @sharksandminhos @mountiiny

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The light padding of feet echoed around in the quiet room as I pressed my head further against the pillow, irritated by the sudden disturbance. Then, the ring of a small bell and the sound of curtains being drawn apart, and a blinding light, which flooded my grandeur room. I groaned loudly and pulled the thick covers over my shivering form, eyebrows furrowing when that damned ringing wouldn’t stop. Who would dare interrupt my beauty sleep? Who would dare wake me up from a dream where a charming prince was just about to confess his everlasting love for me?!

“Miss Yoon, it’s almost noon,” A soft voice called out, the ringing of the bell finally gone, “Your father inquired about your whereabouts.”

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut tighter, burying my head into the pillow even more. I didn’t want to get out of bed. It was so warm and comfortable. I wanted to sleep all day long and dream about a prince, which would finally whisk me away from this place and treat me like the royalty I am. Well…the royalty I would have been if my mother didn’t die and cause a rift between our family and hers. Certainly her being third cousin with the Queen would’ve granted us a spot in the palace. I would’ve very much liked that. To be pampered all day long with expensive things, living a lavished life without having to worry about anything. What a life that would’ve been. Instead, I was stuck in a golden decorated mansion where I suffered of bored all day long, and top of that, my two maids were incompetent too. If only father would sometimes listen to me…we wouldn’t be here still.

“Miss Yoon,” Another quiet voice said, “your father’s friends will be arriving soon, he doesn’t want you to miss greeting them.”

“I couldn’t care less about my father’s friends!” I hissed, sitting up abruptly, glaring at my two maids. They were shorter than me, and skinnier, their clothes clinging to their bodies in an uncomfortable way. I have offered some of my dresses to them, but them being ungrateful, refused to take them. If a warm-hearted woman like myself offered me a dress made of silk and littered with gems, I wouldn’t even think about refusing it. Not everyone was as generous as myself, the thought made me roll my eyes.

“Miss Yoon,” The blonde maid, Soyeon, said, “Sir Yoon asked me to let you know that the friends would be here in an hour.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I wouldn’t get out of bed, but the black-haired maid, Soojin, cut me off before I could make a sound, “Your bath will get cold, Miss Yoon.”

I scoffed and leaned back into my pillows, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not getting out of bed today, get lost, you two.”

The maids said nothing as they fidgeted around, glancing at each other. I closed my eyes and hummed contently as my muscles grew soft once again, allowing the bed’s warmth to wrap me in a cocoon of comfort and serenity, which of course, didn’t last for long as one of the maid’s cleared their throat very quietly.

“Your breakfast will also get cold, Miss Yoon—”

“Fine!” I exclaimed and sat up with a glare, huffing as I threw the covers off myself, “Are you happy now?”

Before they could say anything, I got out of bed, almost tripping in the sheet as it had fallen to the floor, making the maids gasp as I quickly stood up straight, narrowing my eyes at them. They quickly looked away and I tsked, pulling the hair out of my eyes as I stepped into my fluffy slippers, and stormed past the two pathetic women, headed for my spacious bathroom. The walls and floor were a dark green marble, my favorite color, and the big window was opened to allow fresh air inside. The breeze was warm as I let my silky nightgown slip down my body, and I quickly got inside the bathtub which was decorated with golden accents, my father had made it specifically for me. I heard my maids hurrying inside the bathroom as I lowered myself further down in the warm water, wetting my hair and washing my eyes as I got above the surface, Soojin with the soap and sponge in her hands as she approached me. She didn’t look in my eyes as she started washing my body, and I rolled my eyes as Soyeon finally showed up with my breakfast.

I was starving.

Pancakes with maple syrup and blackberries were my favorite breakfast, our personal chef certainly knows me well. It’s like he read my mind that I was craving something sweet, but healthy, today.

“Are you going to wait until the night comes upon us?” I deadpanned as I looked at Soyeon, leaning forward when Soojin tried to wash my back without saying anything. Stupid girl, she couldn’t even use her mouth for a simple request.

“Apologies, Miss Yoon.” Soyeon slightly bowed her head and came near, getting on her knees to be at a more comfortable angle. I smiled at her widely as she raised the fork up towards my lips, pancake and blueberry on it. She certainly knew how I liked eating my favorite breakfast. I hummed as I closed my eyes and chewed the food, my mood instantly getting better. These two girls could perform their duties really well, they just needed little scolding and motivation from time to time. I sighed in contentment as Soyeon continued feeding me while Soojin thoroughly washed my body, not an ounce of grime on my skin. I hated being dirty, on rather hot days I would even bathe twice a day. The opened window allowed the warm breeze to waft inside, the crashing of the waves distant, but strong enough to be heard as our mansion was rather close to the beach. Once I was done with my breakfast, Soyeon handed me my cup filled with tea and I took a few sips, washing down the food, and enjoying the minty taste of it.

“Miss Yoon,” Soojin spoke up hesitantly as she washed my hair, voice quiet, “I overheard your father talking about a ball this morning—”

“A ball?!” I exclaimed, eyes shooting open as I sat up straight in the bathtub. A little water splashed over, Soyeon’s eyes stuck to it as she sighed quietly.

“It’s nothing certain, Miss Yoon, I don’t even know when it’ll be.” Soojin quickly explained, regret in her voice. If my father didn’t want me to know about it, then he had bad luck, because my loyal maids always told me everything that happened outside of my room’s doors.

“Soyeon, pick out my prettiest dress and prepare it for the ball!” I demanded, hissing when Soojin pulled on my scalp harshly with the towel. She quickly apologized and I rolled my eyes, Soyeon seeming lost as she looked at me before looking at Soojin.

“We don’t know when the ball will take place—”

“I said, prepare my dress for the ball.” I raised my eyebrows at her, daring her to disobey me. Soyeon quickly nodded as Soojin wrapped my hair in the towel, stepping aside to search for the one for my body. It was next to Soyeon, and she was quick to help out her fellow maid as she handed the towel to Soojin. I grinned with distaste, unimpressed by how eager they always were to help each other out. Yet, they would never helped me out, unless I demanded it. Two faced little demons is what they were, “Help me out.”

My voice was sweet as I raised my hand, halting Soojin’s movements. Soyeon’s eyes fell on me and I let a slow smile stretch onto my lips, eyebrows raised. She hesitated as she glanced at Soojin briefly, before taking a reluctant step towards me. I delicately raised my left arm too, barely placing my hand on Soyeon’s open palm. I didn’t necessarily like holding dirty things with my hands. I stood up and allowed Soyeon to guide me to my feet, eyes staying on my face as I stood naked in front of the two girls. I felt Soojin step closer from behind and wrap the towel around myself, my fingers tightening around Soyeon’s hand, a smirk forming on my lips. She looked down uncomfortably and that just allowed my next move to be easier than I thought it would be. I forcefully tugged on Soyeon’s hand, and suddenly, she was falling towards me with a loud cry. I released her hand as she fell in the bathtub, splashing water all over the floor and on the towel around my body. My amused expression dropped as I looked down at the girl with disgust, hand still in the air. She was gasping for air as she tried to get her hair out of her face, Soojin standing to the side with a shocked expression. When I glanced at her, she pressed her hands against her mouth and I rolled my eyes, stepping out of the bathtub. They certainly looked pathetic right now.

“Perhaps that taught you not to question when I say something, Soyeon.” My voice was cold as I turned around and took off towards the door, halting in the doorway, “Go get changed quickly, do you think Soojin is capable of braiding my hair the way I like it?”

“Yes, Miss Yoon, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Soyeon’s voice quivered as she hauled herself out of the bathtub, Soojin rushing to her side to help her out. I rolled my eyes and walked back inside my room, sitting at my vanity table as I looked out the window, a peculiar ship appearing on the horizon as it seemed to sail. Whether if it was coming towards our Kingdom or departing from it, I couldn’t tell, and I wondered what type of people were on it. Sailors, perhaps? But they were too far away from the shore, it couldn’t have been them. Or perhaps it was a merchant ship. Or maybe the Navy’s fleet. Oh, how handsome those soldiers were. Especially Lieutenant Kim. Pity he wasn’t rich or from an influential family, I would’ve long married him if that were the case, and of course, if my father wasn’t so overprotective of his little daughter. He barely let me out of his sight, even at my fragile age of nineteen. He was scared his little girl would get whisked away by some handsome man, and oh, how I wished for that to happen. But with my father always breathing down my neck and monitoring each step of mine, none of that was happening anytime soon. He had always thought his little friends were better, more mature, more respectful. But when he wasn’t looking our way, those old grimy men would send me flirty looks and whisper sweet nothings about a life lived in posh if I were to accept their proposals. But that’s not what I needed, nor wanted.

I wanted someone good looking. Someone, who was tall with sharp features and demanding eyes that made my heart race wildly. Someone, who made me forget my own name. Someone, who fell so madly in love with me that he’d worship the ground I walked on. That’s what I needed, and tons of money, of course, not some sticky fingers and fat old men who only wanted to taint my innocence. They thought they were sleek, but I was even sleeker. My eyes fell on the expensive watch placed on display on my vanity, making me chuckle to myself as I reached for it, tracing the leather with a finger. Lord Lee was still looking for it, pity he’d never ever again find it. I smirked as I reached over and opened my little chest filled with all the shiny goods I stole, although I prefer calling them borrowed, from my father’s business partners and friends. The floorboard creaking from behind made me look up, and through the mirror I saw Soojin walking inside my room, holding a pale blue dress. My eyebrows furrowed and I turned in my seat, tsking.

“Is that what you want me to wear to the ball?” My tone was snappy and skeptical as it made Soojin pause, eyes averted as she remained silent, “You can burn that old rag, I won’t wear it ever again.”

“Yes, Miss Yoon.” Soojin’s voice was small and as I continued looking at her, I could see the yearning in her eyes as her grip tightened around the fabric. I scoffed and faced my mirror again, Soyeon finally walking back inside, her clothes dry and hair disheveled as her eyes were red. God, this stupid girl had been crying again. These two maids were so sensitive, it was embarrassing at this point, “God, you two are so pathetic. I wonder why my father keeps you around still. I should just get a competent maid like the Queen has at her Palace.”

There was silence as Soyeon walked over, grabbing an oily lotion and putting it on her hands before she massaged it into my smooth hair, making me sigh in content as I closed my eyes. The floorboard creaked again and I figured Soojin was on her way to pick out a new dress, “You want to keep that old rag?”

Soyeon paused for a second before I felt her grabbing the brush from my vanity, making me open my eyes and hiss when the brush got tangled in the knots in my hair. I gave her a glare through the mirror as she bit her lower lip, embarrassed. If she cries another time I’d rather just jump out the window right now and save myself of this clownery.

“I cannot accept anything that was once Miss Yoon’s—”

“Oh, Lord,” I muttered with a groan, glaring at Soojin through the mirror, “Just keep that wrenched dress, nobody will have your head for it! I’m letting you wear it. Do you need anyone else to give you permission to do so?”

Soojin shook her head as she averted her eyes, and I hummed, settling back in my seat as Soyeon finally started braiding my hair, “Good, then stop whining and asking for attention and keep it.”

“Miss Yoon, your generosity is unlimited.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at Soojin’s obvious flattery.

“Of course, it is.” I muttered and watched Soyeon through the mirror as my other maid disappeared back inside my huge closet filled with pretty dresses to the brim. Soyeon kept sniffing and avoiding eye contact as my stare turned insistent, but her hands worked diligently as she braided my hair the way I liked it. My curly hair was long as it reached the middle of my back and dense, making it hard for everyone but Soyeon to maneuver it any way she wanted to. Two curly front pieces were left alone to frame my face as the braided the rest from the sides, creating the impression of a small crown in my hair. She usually put gemstones in it and left the rest hang freely against my shoulders after she ruffled it up to make it fluffier looking. When she was done with my hair, I crossed my arms in front of my chest and threw her a glare, watching as her body visibly tensed.

“Did I mess up, Miss Yoon? Do you not like your hair?” Her voice was squeaky and I huffed.

“At least look me in the eyes when you speak to me, brat.” I snapped and Soyeon quickly looked up, her eyes filled with tears. I groaned loudly at her theatrics and leaned forward, opening my chest of stollen, borrowed, goods. The first pearl necklace that my eyes fell on belonged to a maiden from a charity event, and I grinned as I grabbed it, raising it up to my eyes to inspect it from up closer. Soyeon watched me through the mirror and I stood, turning around. I was almost two heads taller than her, “Take it and stop being a cry-baby. But don’t let my father know or he’ll have your hands for stealing it.”

“Is this—not yours, Miss Yoon?” Soyeon asked reluctantly as Soojin walked back inside the room, holding a gorgeous sage green dress that once belonged to my mother. I grinned as she raised the dress up, my eyes drinking in the lace and small flower designs on it. It would be perfect for the ball; I couldn’t wait to wear it now.

“Of course, it’s not mine, Soyeon. Do I wear such cheap jewelry such as this?” I chuckled and pressed the pearl necklace forcefully into my maid’s hands. These two knew about my little hobby of stealing from others, but I made them swear to never tell my father as he’d certainly punish me for doing such lowly things, and forbid me from going to balls and tea parties with the ladies from the neighboring houses. I couldn’t let that happen, I was already bored and dying every day in this boring mansion surrounded by servants and my father. I needed something which would bring life in me, excite me and show me what the world consisted of.

“I cannot accept this—”

“I said, take it, and stop crying so much.” I huffed and walked away, watching as the maid struggled not to drop the pearl necklace, “Get lost, now, I will change on my own.”

And it didn’t take long for the two maids to scramble out of my room, leaving me alone as I sighed loudly and walked inside my dressing room. The curtains were drawn but I opened them as I stared out the window again, longingly watching the ship in the distance as I grabbed my stockings to wear over my undergarments. What would a life on the sea feel like?

After wearing a soft pink dress and making sure I looked presentable, I made my way to the gardens to greet my father first before we walked to the little fountain where his friends were gathered around, laughing about something inaudible to us. I plastered on my sweetest smile as my father gripped my arm slightly tighter, signaling that I should stand up even straighter. I chuckled, but cursed him in my head as the corset I was wearing was already constricting enough. If I stood any straighter it would dig into my flesh and make it bleed by the evening, but I obliged to my father’s wish as Mr. Lee noticed us and grinned like a Chesire cat. I hated that ugly man. He was always eating something, his fingertips greasy because of it, and he was greedy. All he saw were the assets he placed into something and how even the smallest business could bring more money to him. My father was blind to his schemes of trying to rob us, but thankfully, his smart little daughter was always there to convince him against doing business with Mr. Lee, and thus saving our legacy.

“Mr. Yoon!” Sir Oh exclaimed, an obnoxious and quite annoying man, waving happily towards us, “Lovely sunshine, we thought you’d never make it here today.”

The man around him laughed and I chuckled, although I wished to spit at them and press their heads under the water of the fountain. I hated it when they called me any names, and certainly Sir Oh was my least favorite as he found a stupid new nickname to call me by for each time he came to visit us.

“Friends, it’s been a while, hasn’t it been?” My father asked with a chuckle as he patted my hand, then released me, finally. It’s been exactly two weeks since these idiots have seen each other, yet they were being more dramatic about it than me and my tea party ladies would ever be.

“It certainly has been.” Mr. Yu, perhaps the man I hated most as he was quite unashamed with his advances towards me, and he was hitting the age of fifty. Who wanted a scrawny old man good for nothing but reading his newspaper and crying about the weather? Certainly not me, “Miss Yoon, just as beautiful as always.”

I chuckled as I masked my disgust, plastering on a fake smile, “You flatter me, Mr. Yu.”

My father chuckled and beckoned everyone over to the round table, asking us to sit down. I certainly did not want to be here and entertaining these fools, but I had no choice but to appease my father as he promised to buy me a ruby sometime next week, if I behaved well today. My little gemstone collection hadn’t been updated in long, it certainly was about time I got something new and shiny. A diamond would’ve been better, but my father said he couldn’t find one in our region just yet—how tragic. Before my father could sit, he seemed to remember something and he quickly excused himself, hurrying back towards the house. He left me alone with the wolves, and I remained collected as I watched his friends eyes taking me in closely. I chuckled and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest. It didn’t help that the corset was already pushing up my breasts, sitting uncomfortable due to the metal digging into my waist.

“Lovely weather today, isn’t it, Mr. Yu?” I spoke up disinterested, but the men didn’t seem to notice as he went off about how the weather was lovely, the breeze just perfect, and the waves not too harsh if anyone wanted to go for a swim. And of course, the sun was just perfectly hot today, not strong enough to burn your skin, but enough to leave a nice tan. Good thing I didn’t expose much of myself, then.

“Any charming men on the horizon, Miss?” Sir Oh inquired with a small laugh, but it was easy to see the curiosity on his face as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes twinkling. Of course, to men like him it didn’t matter that a wife and three children were waiting for him to return home. All he cared about was young flesh for a night, something to satiate his needs and reassure him that he’s still got in him, that he was still capable of charming ladies left and right. It was sad how Sir Oh failed to notice that it was just his money drawing in clueless ladies, ready to extort him of it. It was rather hilarious, yet disgusting at the same time.

“Tell me, Sir Oh, what can you see on the horizon?” I raised my eyebrows as all three men across me turned their heads towards the sea, which was perfectly visible from our veranda overlooking it. I didn’t have to look to know that the ship was still there. I smirked as they remained silent, telling that they didn’t know more than I did.

“You must have surely heard of pirates before, Miss Yoon.” Mr. Lee said mystically, head turning to look me in the eyes, “There’s rumor that Ateez had sailed close to our shores—”

“Ah, nonsense!” Mr. Yu exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, “There’s no such thing as those dirty criminals nearing our shores. The Navy fleet will take them out in no second!”

“I wouldn’t bet too much on that, Mr. Yu.” Mr. Lee chuckled, his eyes traveling back onto the sea. Intrigued, I also looked towards the sea, eyes finding the ship in the distance. Pirates, they say? Doesn’t that sound exciting? I grinned as I imagined what they must look like and what they might want from our humble town. Surely if they were looking for our Queen, then they were in the wrong spot. Our Queen was miles away from us, unfortunately.

“Are these so-called pirates dangerous?” I asked with feigned ignorance, and Mr. Lee snorted as if I had asked a hilarious question. I refrained from glaring at him as I turned my head to face the men again.

“Dangerous?! Pray they never find a young woman like yourself and ravage you.” My glare was instant as I didn’t even try to hide it, jaw clenching at Mr. Lee’s blatant offensive remark. He had no shame, it was disgusting.

“Mr. Lee!” Sir Oh exclaimed, looking alarmed, “Apologize to Miss Yoon, right now!”

Mr. Yu looked just as appalled, acting as if he hadn’t tried sleeping with me not even one week ago. It still made my skin crawl as I bit back a snarl, raising my eyebrows at Mr. Lee.

“My apologies, Miss Yoon, that was harsh—”

“It merely mirrors your own thoughts, Mr. Lee.” I cut him off with a spiteful glare and the men looked shocked for a second as my face morphed into pure hatred, “You all act like saints in front of my father, and then you try to have your way with me behind his back. Pathetic, especially if your wives were to know.”

The men remained gaping as I stood up, plastering on a wide smile when I heard the clanking of cups against a tray coming from behind. My father must’ve gone back to ask the servants to bring tea and cookies. The three men in front of me struggled to gathered themselves and fix their expressions, but when my father appeared next to me, they quickly did so. I gave them a look before turning to face my father.

“Papa, all this sitting in the sun is making me feel lightheaded,” I made my voice sound soft and weak as I pouted, grabbing my father’s hand, “Would you mind if I were to excuse myself?”

“My dear, not at all!” He exclaimed and pressed a palm against my forehead alarmed, “You’re burning up, head inside quickly!”

“Thank you, papa.” I pressed a kiss against my father’s cheek and he squeezed my hand reassuringly before turning to face a servant, Shindong.

“Please, walk my daughter back to her room.” My father instructed softly, “Make sure she has enough water and ask the cook to prepare soup for her. Let her maids know about her early return too, Shindong. Thank you.”

The servant bowed his head and extended a hand towards me, prompting me to hold his gloved hand as he helped me away from the chair and around the table. I knocked my leg into the foot of Mr. Yu’s chair as I passed behind him, acting as if I stumbled a bit. I leaned down and grabbed a silver spoon from the ground, which obviously wasn’t there but I had grabbed it off the tray before Shindong could realize, and pretended to pick it up.

“Mr. Yu, when did you drop this?” I asked with confusion as I held the spoon in my hand, eyebrows furrowed. Minhyuk, the servant who was setting the table looked alarmed for a second, counting the spoons on the table and the ones still on his tray, looking lost as he looked at the one I was holding. I tried to bite down my smirk, amused by their confusion as to how the spoon landed on the ground when one hadn’t even been served to Mr. Yu yet.

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Our fingers touched and I suppressed the shiver threatening to shake my body, Shindong gingerly holding my hand as I bowed my head lightly, swiftly pulling my hand back from Mr. Yu’s. My father shooed Shindong and I away, and I happily obliged as the servant walked us back towards the house, my fist hidden behind my back as the weight of a silver ring laid heavily in my hand. Away from everyone, I allowed the smirk to finally plaster on my face as I yanked my hand out of Shindong’s, raising the silver ring up Mr. Yu had on his finger a few seconds ago. Shindong gave me a small glance, but remained silent as he lead the way back to my room, telling me that Soojin and Soyeon would be soon here if I needed anything. I entered my room without saying anything, inspecting the huge ruby molded into the silver. I didn’t have to wait another week to get my hands on a ruby, after all. Maybe Mr. Yu was good for something.

The day seemed to drag on after I returned to my room, jumping on my fluffy bed face down and groaning loudly as the waves crashing against the rocks echoed inside my room through the opened window. It was indeed a lovely day and I found myself craving to go on a walk, but with my father’s friends here, I couldn’t go, because my father never allowed me to leave the mansion without him by my side. I could’ve gone with one of the servants, or even guards, but he never trusted them enough to let me out with them. Or maybe Shindong had snitched on me after the few rare occasions I was allowed to go outside with the guards as I have disappeared for a few hours. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, so I didn’t understand their distress and my father’s anger and concern when he came storming inside my room and yelling at me that I was to stay in my room for the next week. It was horrible, but with the help of my maids, I did manage to sneak out to the gardens every night, laying in the soft grass and gazing at the bright stars, daydreaming about a life where a rich prince whisked me away on his white horse. The reason why I even disappeared for a few hours was simple, and many would’ve laughed at it, not punished their child for it. I just wanted to buy some pastries and roam the cobblestone covered roads of our buzzing town, later headed to the beach to take a quick swim. But my father couldn’t look past his worry and anger to realize that I was merely craving some fun and freedom from his close watch.

But I knew how to use my father’s friends being here to my advantage, and after changing into a dress lighter than the one I wore in the morning, I tied my hair in a low bun and sneaked out of my room. There were few times when I was allowed to read whatever that wasn’t essential to my education, and so I skipped my way towards the library, hiding from the servants who’d roam the halls as they were headed to their duties. I knew if Shindong saw me he’d snitch to my father, that loyal bastard. He was very good at his job, but perhaps too good as he was my father’s second eyes, never failing to notice any missteps I had taken. At least he was smart enough to keep it to himself when he caught me borrowing goods from others. I knew my maids were looking for me, Soyeon’s desperate calls quiet as they carried down the empty hallways, prompting me on to do better and hide so that they wouldn’t find me. And my plan of reading in the library from the forbidden section, which were actually my mother’s most favorite romance novels, turned into me playing hide and seek with my very desperate sounding maids as they ran mindlessly up and down the hallways, searching every room as I stood hidden behind curtains, trying to contain my giggles. However, my fun was short lived when Minhyuk easily found me, his lips pulled into an amused smile. He was barely twenty-five and we were never allowed to be in the same chambers on our own, but my father was apparently looking for me, and Minhyuk was the first one to find me. I stuck my tongue out at him as he lead the way towards my father’s study room, ushering me inside with a chuckle when I threw him a glare.

“You had called for me, papa?” I asked with a sweet smile, voice soft as it carried around in the quiet room. My father hummed as his eyes raised from the map he was inspecting, suddenly looking tired. His foolish friends must’ve tired him out with their stupid stories.

“Did you happen to see a silver ruby ring, by chance, my dear?” My eyebrows furrowed as I jutted my lower lips out innocently, and shook my head no, “I understand, thank you, my dear. Mr. Yu swears he lost his ring here somewhere, but we both know that man is just simply forgetful.”

“And old and ugly.” I muttered under my breath with a sneer, which was quickly gone when my father looked at me with raised eyebrows. I fixed my expression and smiled sweetly at him.

“Oh, papa, don’t you wish to go on a walk with your dear daughter?” I asked as I walked closer to him, letting my hand rest on his as I leaned against his sturdy desk, “We’ve still got a few hours before sunset, it would be lovely to take a walk on the beach. You look tired, the fresh and warm breeze will do you good, papa.”

My father smiled and hummed, turning his hand around to grab mine in his, squeezing our hands together, “You are just as bewitching as your mother once was, my dear. But I must refuse your proposal, I’m afraid.”

“But papa—” My whiney voice got cut off by my father’s chuckle, shaking his head as he released my hand and pushed his chair back.

“You didn’t let me finish, my dear.” He grinned as a mischievous look appeared on his face, making my eyebrows raise in curiosity, “We’ve been invited to Mrs. Boo’s ball, you might want to get ready for that—”

I squealed loudly as I leaped at my father and pressed a kiss against his cheek, twirling around in his spacious study as my heartbeat quickened. So my stupid maids were right, after all! And I didn’t even have to wait much more until we’d get to attend the ball, this was like a blessing, “Papa! I must get ready then! It’s been too long since we’ve been to a ball—and oh, the balls organized by Mrs. Boo are always so—majestic.”

My father chuckled as he listened to me ranting, just nodding his head as I hurried towards his door, “See you before sunset, father. I shall be ready by then!”

“You better or else you’ll be staying here.” His threat was empty, but I still pretended to be scared as I clumsily saluted him, making my father laugh as I left his study in a hurry, running down the hallways to reach my room as fast as I could.

“Soojin! Soyeon!” I shouted as I passed by the kitchens, where these two seemed to spend most of their time if they weren’t with me, “I’m going to a ball tonight!”

And the preparations for the ball took time, because everything had to be perfect. Even the curls in my hair had to sit perfectly, enhanced by Soyeon as we decided to let my hair fall freely tonight, barely braiding a few strands at the sides, which she clipped back so that the front pieces would frame my face nicely, enhancing my sharp cheekbones. Soojin helped by adding blush to my cheeks, which looked absolutely lovely as it complimented by sun kissed complexion and the lip tint was a dark cherry color, making my lips pop with color. A little bit of glitter had been added to my eyelids and I stood proudly in my dressing room, twirling around in front of the big mirror, admiring the way the sage green dress complemented my frame and skin complexion. The skirt was big and made me feel like a princess, the corset underneath tightly pulled together to keep my posture straight at all times. It got restricting after a while, lungs feeling like they were compressed, but I sucked it up and plastered on a smile despite the growing discomfort if I had to sit rather than stand. The top of the dress was off-shoulders and had long, loose sleeves, and the fabric around my breasts was held together by strings, similar to my corset as lace decorated the surface of it. With sunset nearing, and feeling pleased by my appearance, I headed to the front gates of the mansion, and got inside our little carriage as my father was already there and waiting for me. His eyes widened when I sat across from him and they filled with tears, making me confused as my first thought was that I didn’t look sufficiently good enough for tonight’s ball. I adjusted the golden necklace around my neck uncomfortably, waiting for my father to speak up first.

“You look stunning, my dear.” He whispered before sniffing loudly, looking out the window of the carriage, “Your mother wore this dress the day we met—I didn’t even know you had it.”

I cleared my throat and shrugged, looking down at my hands, “I had visited her chambers not too long ago. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, my dear.” My father quickly reassured me as he reached out for my hand, “She would absolutely love seeing you wearing it, and I am happy as well. You truly did inherit all of her beauty.”

I chuckled as I became shy, lightly bowing my head in gratitude, “In that case, I can’t wait to meet my own rich husband, soon, hopefully.”

My father’s face became grim and he hummed, looking all of a sudden disinterested in the conversation. Of course he did, he always did this when I brought up the subject of husband or even just a simple suitor, “Focus on your studies for now, my dear. Men come and go, but your virtue stays.”

“You always say that, papa.” I mumbled with a sigh and my father tsked.

“A lady does not mumble; she speaks well and clearly. And I always say that because I know what men are like, and until the day you find a man who’s worthy of you, I shall continue deterring the bad wolves away from my little princess. Understand, my dear?”

I hummed with a pout and looked at my father with slight irritation, unable to slump against the plush seat of the carriage due to the corset I was wearing, “Yes, I do, papa. I hear this at least twice a week.”

“Very well,” My father looked amused as he retreated his hand from mine and sat back with a pleased expression, “It means you’ll never forget it.”

And I had remained silent as the carriage finally took off, and for the rest of the ride as well. I couldn’t say that I was mad at my father, but I could still resent him a little bit for keeping me away from every man that I showed even the slightest interest in me. It seemed like nobody was worthy enough. And even when they were, my father somehow managed to find some dirt about them and scare them away, consoling me that he was only showing me the dark side, the secrets these suitors were trying to hide from me. But perhaps, if my father allowed them enough time to stick around for longer, they would’ve told me themselves of these missteps they have taken along the way. Nobody was perfect, despite my desires to believe so, and as long as they had enough money, I could overlook some of their flaws.

The carriage ride didn’t take too long as Mrs. Boo and her family lived quite close to us. I could hear the music from outside the gates already as we have finally stopped moving, and got out of the carriage. My father helped me down and then crossed his arm with mine, keeping me close to himself so that I wouldn’t slip away. I knew it would take only a few glasses of champagne for me to be able to do so anyways, perhaps even faster if the people he knew came over to talk to my father. Most of the times they talked about things that were none of my concerns, and therefore I was allowed to roam around the place as long as my father could see me. And I did just that as we entered the marble covered vast chamber of Mrs. Boo’s family, her ballroom. It was spectacular, like every time, decorated in burgundy and golden accents. It screamed prestige and money, and I was pleased to see that I was the best dressed out of all the young ladies attending the ball tonight. It always brought pleasure and pride to me when I was the prettiest at these events, and it was only proven right when I noticed the jealousy in the other ladies eyes as my father and I walked by them. I grinned at them and mockingly waved, curling my fingers before ignoring them completely. We were barely inside, yet my father already had a glass of champagne in his hands as we were headed towards Mrs. Boo to greet her and thank her for inviting us. I put on my best smile as we arrived in front of her, her puffy cheeks disturbingly pink. Her makeup choices had always been questionable.

“Oh, Mr. and Miss Yoon.” She said delighted as she clapped her hands once, “Lovely seeing you made it.”

“My daughter would have had my head if I dared skipping tonight’s ball.” My father said cordially and I refrained from rolling my eyes.

“The decoration is marvelous, Mrs. Boo, you never fail to amaze me.” I complimented the woman, knowing how much she liked hearing such words. Besides, I knew it meant I would get invited to her next tea party and that was exactly what I was hoping for.

“Thank you, lovely.” She chuckled as she looked past us, her eyes narrowing slightly before she composed her expression quickly. It didn’t take long to realize it was because her son was coming over, face a constant mask of judgement. The two of us had nothing against each other, Seungkwan could be a pleasant companion if he put in a little effort, but otherwise the man was too nagging and posh for my taste. He couldn’t even pull the chair out for himself, let alone for his lover.

“Ah, Junior.” My father chuckled as Seungkwan came to a stop next to his mother, and he released my arm to shake Seungkwan’s hand. I smiled as Seungkwan kissed my hand next, curtsying to him in return.

“It’s been a while, Miss Yoon.” He said cordially and I hummed, smile fixed on my face.

“Indeed, I see you’re just as healthy as always.” I noted, and Seungkwan’s mother laughed as she patted her son’s shoulder.

“Of course, he is. There isn’t a day my boy doesn’t eat his vegetables.” I nodded in understanding, but didn’t miss the way Seungkwan almost rolled his eyes, “Mr. Yoon, should we leave the young ones alone? I’m not sure you have met Sir Bae yet, father of the Navy fleet’s commandant?”

My father’s eyes widened and he threw me one small glance before he was agreeing to walk with Mrs. Boo, interested in expanding his friend and business list. I scoffed and stepped next to Seungkwan, facing the crowd as we both looked at the dancing people in front of us.

“He’s still breathing down your neck?” Seungkwan asked, finally dropping that irritatingly sweet tone of his. I chuckled and crossed my arms in front of my chest, stealing a grape first from the tray next to me on the table.

“Obviously, I should buy your mother something generous for always seemingly stealing him away at balls like these.” Seungkwan threw me an amused glance before stealing a grape from my hand. I threw him a glare and quickly ate the rest.

“Of course she does. She keeps saying you’ll never find a man if he keeps breathing down your neck.” I chuckled and turned to face Seungkwan.

“And how right she is,” I pinched his cheek teasingly, making him snap my hand away, “Did she play matchmaker again? Where’s your lady for the night?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Seungkwan looked uncomfortable as I chuckled and smirked at him, “She thankfully didn’t have the time to find anyone for the ball, so I’m on my own tonight.”

“Poor you.” I teased and Seungkwan threw me a swift glare as suddenly a man was headed our way. My heart skipped a beat as I straightened my stance, and plastered on a sweet smile on my lips, eyes falling on the tall body of Lieutenant Kim. His body was adorned in his uniform, form lean and strong as the well-worked muscles bulged through the fabric just slightly. His short black hair was swept back, leaving his forehead on display, and I tried to hide my blush at the dashing smile he sent our way. His canines poked through and his cherry-red lips looked soft, complimenting his gorgeous tan skin. Kim Mingyu was a dreamy man, hardworking, and dedicated. He was respectful and extremely smart, and quick on his feet. Every man envied him. He could have anyone he wanted, yet he chose to dedicate his life to the Navy—after I turned him down. Many had called me crazy, but my father was glad. He said Mingyu wasn’t who he portrayed himself to be, and even if that were true, that wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to marry him. Despite his looks and personality, he never actually managed to sweep me off my feet. He never stole my breath away, and he never made me yearn for him. And if love wasn’t like that, I didn’t want it. And I wouldn’t stop until I found this type of love, ethereal, everlasting.

“Good evening,” Kim Mingyu bowed his head, making Seungkwan chuckle, “Mr. Boo. Miss Yoon.”

I giggled quietly when he grabbed my hand with his big one, pressing a lasting kiss against my knuckles as he held eye contact, making Seungkwan scoff next to us.

“The girl rejected you once, Mingyu, what are you doing?” Seungkwan teased his best friend lightly and I chuckled embarrassed, subtly elbowing the man in the ribs. Mingyu had a similar blush on his cheeks to mine as he cleared his throat and threw a warning glare at his friend.

“I’m merely greeting her the way a man is supposed to, Seungkwan, jealous?” The banter between the two was natural, their love language full of teasing and nagging each other.

“You wish I were.” Seungkwan chuckled and whisked away three glasses of champagne from a tray as a servant passed by with it. I made sure my father wasn’t looking as I accepted one, clanking my glass against the other two men’s.

“How are you feeling tonight, Miss Yoon?” Mingyu looked at me and I hummed, looking over the dancing crowd, an idea occurring in my mind. I looked back at the tall man with a grin and pressed my glass of champagne into Seungkwan’s chest.

“I would be doing a lot better if a handsome man cared to ask me to dance.” The cheeky smile kicked Mingyu into action as he pressed his own glass into Seungkwan’s chest, making him groan. Mingyu took my hand tenderly and gestured towards the dance floor.

“May I, then?” He asked dashingly, his smile leaving me a blushing mess once again. I chuckled, out of embarrassment, and then nodded as he lead us towards the dancing crowd.

“Of course, leave me all by myself, you two!” Seungkwan called after us, but didn’t seem too sad as he got to drink not only his champagne, but ours too. Mingyu lead us towards the end of the room, where the crowd wasn’t so dense, and where my father couldn’t see us well, and I chuckled. Mingyu knew about my father’s rules as I have told him once, and he always enjoyed breaking them, angering my father a little each time. Perhaps that was the reason why he didn’t like Mingyu. Mingyu’s calloused hand took a firm hold of my waist as his other held my hand gingerly, and I allowed my hand to rest against his firm shoulder, the fabric soft under my tender touch.

“You look gorgeous, Miss Yoon.” Mingyu said, sounding almost breathless as he looked down at me. I chuckled and bowed my head slightly as I followed Mingyu’s lead, the orchestra playing a slow and lovely song.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Kim, you have been certainly turning heads as well tonight.” Mingyu laughed as he nodded, looking over the crowd. He was taller than most people in here, even in my heels, the top of my head barely reached above his eyes.

“I have noticed,” He said as his eyes fell back on me, and I raised an eyebrow teasingly, “But my eyes were only on you the whole time, Miss Yoon.”

I didn’t mean to blush as hard as I did, and Mingyu chuckled, squeezing my waist for a second as I cleared my throat, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. Averting my eyes to avoid blushing even more, I looked at the beautiful necklace hidden beneath Mingyu’s uniform’s collar, and I found my fingers absentmindedly toying with the gold. Mingyu didn’t seem to mind as he hummed along to the music, swaying us expertly to it. I looked around and noticed my father glaring in our direction furiously before Mrs. Boo noticed as well and whisked him away, pulling him towards a smaller crowd of both men and women, who seemed to be deep in discussion. Mrs. Boo and I made eye contact and she winked sneakily, making me grin as I looked back at Mingyu. He was already looking down at me and I cleared my throat.

“How were your days lately? Is the job demanding?” I made conversation, genuinely curious of Mingyu’s wellbeing. Mingyu’s lower lip jutted out as he hummed and maneuvered us around a couple almost strategically, so that we wouldn’t crash into them. They apologized before continuing on dancing.

“I’m afraid my job will be always demanding,” Mingyu started with a little smile, “but I enjoy it, so I can’t whine about it too much. It’s been quiet, the waters, I mean…until these past few days.”

“What happened?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing. The orchestra changed the pace and I followed Mingyu as his long legs moved faster, steps still careful so that he wouldn’t step on my heeled toes.

“An unidentified ship has been seen on the horizon,” Mingyu explained, and my eyebrows raised as I suddenly remembered what Mr. Yu had said earlier today, “We can’t really do much if they don’t trespass the border, but we’ve been keeping an eye on them—”

“Do you think they could be pirates?” I didn’t mean to cut the Lieutenant off, but in my excitement I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be this eager when speaking about pirates, so, I quickly fixed my expression as Mingyu looked at me perplexed for a second.

“We know they are pirates, but, Miss Yoon…how would you know that?” Mingyu looked slightly alarmed as he lowered his voice and I just shrugged, looking off to the side.

“Word travels fast around here, you shouldn’t be so surprised, Lieutenant.” I gave him a teasing wink and Mingyu chuckled, opening his mouth to say something, when a loud crashing sound disturbed the ambivalence of the room, people gasping and turning their heads to look at where the sound came from. Curios myself, I quickly turned my head around, only to be met with an unfortunate scene. A servant lay on the floor with a tray full of dessert scattered around him, delicious looking sweets now ruined and uneatable. However, what caught my attention was the peculiar actions of the man crouched down next to the servant, who was scrambling around to put everything back on the tray. I could see the profile of the unknown man as he grinned at the servant, mumbling something to him before stealing a cherry off the tray, making the few ladies still watching gasp as he ate it. My eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up at the action, but the man seemed not to care that the cherry had been on the dirty floor just seconds ago. As he stood up, I was taken aback by his height. Perhaps he lacked a few centimeters compared to Mingyu, but he was still toweringly tall. He cleared his throat and fixed the collar of his long, black, velvet coat, sweeping his hands through his long, blonde hair. My eyes followed the action and remained fixed on the stranger’s ringer clad fingers, the jewelry huge, shiny, and expensive looking. His whole outfit looked expensive, but I didn’t get the chance to have a better look at it as he patted the servant on the back and waltzed off like nothing had happened, his shoulders broad as he had a looming figure.

“Miss Yoon?” My head snapped back around, looking wide eyed at Mingyu as his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Excuse me, I got distracted.” I admitted and quickly cleared my throat, suddenly not in the mood to dance with the Lieutenant anymore. Who was this stranger? I knew everyone who frequented Mrs. Boo’s balls, so who was this mysterious man? My heart skipped a beat at the thought of a new person having moved into town, young and rich. If he was handsome too, I might have just hit the jackpot.

“I was just asking if you got startled.” Mingyu said, bringing me out of my thoughts once again. I plastered on a fake smile and brushed him off.

“Of course, I got startled,” I chuckled and lightly pushed myself away from Mingyu, “Excuse me, but I must hydrate myself now, it’s becoming too warm in here.”

Mingyu looked disappointed as he was forced to let go of me, bowing his head slightly before he led us out of the crowd, saying something, but I wasn’t paying attention to him anymore as I was looking around, eyes searching for the blonde, tall man.

And my night went on just like that, searching the crowd relentlessly for the stranger, yet never quite finding him. I was only able to catch glimpses of him, he moved as if he was a ghost, gliding through the crowd as if he was trying to evade the people. It was becoming frustrating, and it got even worse when my father found me and demanded I remain by his side as he was unimpressed by me dancing with Mingyu. I said nothing and did as was told, sneakily drinking some more champagne when my father found himself in heated debates about things I wasn’t interested in. But my curiosity sparked even more as I heard a raspy, deep voice laughing not too far from us, the deep baritone carried over even the music. I tried not to be too obvious as I craned my neck and looked around for the voice, eyes widening when they fell on the stranger. He was merely a few feet away, talking to some ladies. He was leaning against a tall table, his fingers circling the rim of his champagne glass as he played with it, red lips pulled into a charming smile. I gulped as my eyes took in every curve of his face, his tall nose and his sharp eyes, his defined cheekbones and a jawline that was very sharp. His eyebrows were thick, but they complimented his features nicely, and his skin looked slightly burnt, like he had been out in the sun excessively. His blonde hair was long and brushed back behind his ears, the roots barely showing. I could see the way the ladies he was talking to were trying to push their chests our even more than their corsets already did for them, and it was hard to miss their blatant flirting as they tried to touch his hand at any given chance. My eyes narrowed as I watched the interaction, every nerve in my body begging me to walk over and introduce myself to the stranger, to earn his undivided attention. My eyes soaked him in, taking in his black outfit, the velvet clinging to his toned body, and I was startled to find he wore nothing underneath his black vest, a vest that didn’t even reach the waistband of his velvet pants. It was a scandalous outfit, too daring, and it was obviously gaining more and more attention as men glared at the stranger and ladies tried to approach him. Perhaps that was the point, to draw attention to himself, and it was working.

I gulped as I watched his lips move, pulled into a smirk as he reached out and fixed the hair of one of the young girl’s, and it made me scoff as I was aware of what he was doing. What I didn’t expect was the way his eyes snapped to me, as if he knew where he had to look, who he had to look at. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t avert my gaze as his remained fixed on me, raising an eyebrow just slightly. I misjudged the distance between us as he very well heard my scoff, and now he was taking me in, a challenging glint in his eyes. My fingers tightened around the glass I was holding and I smirked as I brough the glass up to my lips, taking a sip as the man smirked back, subtly tilting his glass in my direction. Our little exchange caught the attention of the ladies he was with and as they looked at me, they scowled and sent glares my way. I didn’t care, nothing mattered as I was enticed by the handsome stranger, features unique, quickly engraved into my brain.

But our little moment was broken the second a very drunken Sir Oh loudly called out, weaving towards me with his wife on his side, “Little sunshine!”

I tried not to grit my teeth as I was forced to look away from the stranger, but thankfully my father didn’t see the exchange between the two of us as he suddenly started ignoring the man trying to convince him that investing into diamonds was smart as he went to hug Sir Oh, as if they haven’t seen each other just hours ago. I sneaked a subtle glance towards the stranger, but he was gone, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed as I sighed loudly, suddenly wishing to go home…or just leave this party.

And leave the party I did, of course, after making sure my father was drunk enough to not notice his little princess slipping away. There was nothing enjoyable about the ball anymore. All the men were boring and they only wanted one thing…to get into my good graces, because I come from a well-off family. But they were boring and quite ugly, most of them on poorer side too. I had no interest in listening to their fake stories about all the things they haven’t actually done, but were saying just to try and impress me. I’ve been looking out for the handsome stranger all night long, but I never caught a glimpse of him again. It’s like he suddenly vanished, gone as quickly as he had come. It was disheartening, and I found myself pouting at a boy not even my age, who was boasting about visiting the royal castle and seeing the Queen.

“She is majestic, just like in the stories. Her eyes sparkle, and her crown is filled with diamonds—” I couldn’t listen to him anymore as I scoffed.

“And does Her Majesty drink her tea at five o’clock like everyone else does? Are her dresses of the latest trends made of silk and wool? Please, I am directly linked to the Queen, do you think I haven’t met her already? Talked to her, and spent my days with her?” My tone was snappy, the continuous glasses of champagne I kept sipping on made my world hazy, I couldn’t filter my words like I would usually do so, “Save yourself the grace and get lost, little boy.”

The man standing across me gasped, looking appalled before he turned around, pushing his nose high up in the air. I scoffed and reached forward with a smirk on my face, fingers delicately latching onto the golden chain hanging out of his pocket carelessly. Perhaps this boy should be more careful with his belongings.

And after that, I just slipped through the crowd, making sure I didn’t linger long enough for anyone to notice who I was and where I was headed to. I took a final glance towards my father before I quickly hurried through the wide doors of the ballroom, barely avoiding running into Seungkwan. But it seemed like he didn’t notice me slipping away, and so, with a smile on my face, I was quickly headed towards the outside with one goal in mind. Leave the Boo estate and go find something fun to do for the remaining of the night. I couldn’t tell what time it was exactly, not that it mattered judged by the slight hammering of my head and the haze surrounding my thoughts, and the dizziness clouding my vision. People threw curious glances at me as they noticed me walking without my father, but I just ignored them and smiled widely once I had reached the front gates. The two guardians looked at me with confusion written all over their faces as they shared a glance.

“Miss Yoon, everything alright?” One of them asked, and I smiled sweetly as I nodded wordlessly.

“Leaving without your father?” The other one inquired, crocking an eyebrow. I chuckled and subtly pushed my chest out, not missing the way their gazes fixated on the exposed skin of my collarbones.

“He’ll be here in a moment,” I spoke up, voice sickly sweet as I smiled charmingly at them, “I will go ahead and find our carriage.”

“But Miss Yoon—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” I tsked and shook my finger at the two bewildered men, “I am very capable of being on my own, gentlemen, don’t you think so?”

They said nothing as they shared a look, but ultimately allowed me to walk past as they sighed in unison, shrugging. I flashed them another wide smile and took off, giggling as my feet carried me towards the unknown, enjoying the warm salty breeze of the night, the waves crashing against the huge rocks loud as I was closer to the cliffs here. I took a glance behind myself, making sure nobody was following me, before I stopped to take a deep breath, closing my eyes. Freedom has never felt so good before, and I couldn’t help but raise my arms in the air and twirl around while chuckling, watching the way the skirt of the dress swirled around with me. But perhaps twirling around wasn’t a smart idea when your world was already spinning, and I came to an abrupt stop as nausea suddenly washed over me, making my eyebrows furrow as bile raised in my throat. There was absolutely no chance that a lady, a princess, like myself would throw up, therefore I took three deep breaths and anchored myself. No sudden actions should make this fine. I nodded to myself and took off again, headed to the town square, where I knew some pubs would be still open at this hour. Perhaps going to a pub alone, a beautiful woman like myself, wasn’t the brightest idea, but I wanted to see what it was like. I’ve never been to one, I only heard stories from the ladies I spent the tea parties with. I wanted to experience the same fun they had each time when going to a pub, I wanted to meet new people and perhaps…find a suitor. That was all I needed to remember the handsome stranger, and I couldn’t help but blush as I remembered his sharp eyes holding eye contact with me, his plush lips curling up into a dashing smirk, glint playful in his eyes. Everything about him screamed confidence, and I couldn’t help but giggle as I envisioned him sweeping me off my feet, carrying me effortlessly in his strong arms.

My journey came to a quick stop as Mrs. Boo didn’t leave too far from the square, and my attention was easily taken by the loud pub from the corner of the street. The lights were on inside and music poured out through the open door, very different from the soft music the orchestra had played at Mrs. Boo’s ball. The music was livelier here, heavier and louder, I found myself liking it as I approached the pub, taking in the exterior of it. The bricks were white and the windows sparkling, the dim lighting of the place pouring outside. A man stumbled through the doors clumsily, clutching his hat to his chest as he mumbled incoherent things to himself. His eyes fell on me as he looked up, and his face looked funny. It was oddly red and his eyes looked crisscrossed as he tipped his head in my direction, making me frown at him. The stench coming off him was disgusting and I quickly walked past him, marching inside the pub. The music got louder now that I was inside, but it wasn’t unbearable, you could still overhear the conversations people had…maybe because almost everyone was shouting. There was a weird smell in the air, and I covered my nose as I walked further inside, looking for a free table. Most were occupied by men and women, gathered around in large groups. The dim lightning and the weird smell made my head spin more, but I was proud of myself that I managed to walk in a straight line, eyes set on the free table towards the back of the pub. In my tipsy state, I missed the curious or hungry gazes sent my way, men watching me like haws, women scowling at me, acting as if I was here to steal their men.

When I finally reached the table, I gripped the chair and pulled it back, surprised by its heaviness as it dragged loudly against the wooden floorboards, but thankfully the music was loud enough to mask the atrocious sound. Despite being—probably—tipsy, I managed to sit down graciously, adjusting the skirt of my dress so that nobody would step on it and that I wouldn’t pull a string loose. The dress was dear to me, after all, it once belonged to my deceased mother. And it is also a very pretty, and pricey, dress. The corset seemed to get tighter for a second as I found myself gasping for air, eyebrows furrowing as I straightened my back to the point my back muscles were numb. I couldn’t dwell on the sudden ache for much longer as someone approached the table, looking rather perplexed by my presence here.

“Miss,” It was a young boy, perhaps fifteen, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” I fired back, raising my eyebrows unimpressed.

“I work here.” He answered, looking away for a second, “And if you sit down then you must order something as well.”

“Fine,” I huffed, looking around the place. I had definitely seen worse places before, they certainly must have something that is worth my money here, “Bring me your finest wine, then.”

“Can you afford it?” I was appalled by the blatant mockery in the young boy’s tone, eyebrows raised and expression demanding as I snorted loudly, digging my hand down the front of my dress, between my breasts. The boy’s eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes, cheeks flushing. I rolled my eyes before pulling my hand out of my dress, bringing it above the table and opening my palm. The sudden loud clanking caught the young boy’s attention as he turned his head, eyes widening as he looked at all the goods I had disregarded on the wooden table. I smirked at him, leaning my arms on the table as I leaned towards him.

“Do you think I can afford it?” I asked arrogantly, cocking an eyebrow. The boy just gulped and averted his eyes quickly.

“I’ll be by with our best wine, Miss.” I smiled and shushed him away quickly, looking back down at the little treasures I had borrowed throughout the night. A hairpin filled with tiny emeralds, a golden chain attached to an old looking golden pocket watch, three engagement rings with diamonds, a simple golden chain with a cross medal, and Mingyu’s necklace with a trident pendant. I placed my hands over them and pulled them towards myself, making sure nobody could steal them away from me. I debated whether or not in giving Mingyu’s necklace away as well, but in the end settled on slipping it back inside my corset, patting my chest down to make sure it was secured between my breasts. I didn’t have it in myself to part with this item, after all, Mingyu wasn’t a bad man nor ever had any bad intentions towards me. But as we danced tonight, I just couldn’t help myself. By the time I noticed what I had done, the thin golden necklace was clutched tightly in my palm, the trident pendant digging into the skin of my palm, a reminder that what I had once started doing as a joke, had now turned into a serious issue. I never truly meant to steal people’s things, but after realizing that I was so swift they wouldn’t even notice me taking their things away, it became a game to me. A curiosity to see how far I could get before somebody finally caught me. I knew my father would be devastated that his little daughter was a thief, or a kleptomaniac, and I would also probably go to prison since I was too wealthy to have my hand cut off. The constable would never do such horrendous thing to a girl like me.

My attention was suddenly caught by the man shuffling next to my right, head slightly bowed as he gripped a pint of beer in his clammy looking hand. His hair was already greying and his face was wrinkly. To be fair, he looked quite disgusting as he raised his head and flashed a yellow toothed smile my way, making me cringe. I covered away when he stepped even closer, mouth pulled into a grimace as the man tried to smirk, but he could barely stand on his feet as he had to lean into the table for support.

“Youn’ girl like yerself shouldn’t be in her’.” His words were slurred, but he seemed too determined to speak to me to realize that, “It’s dangerous.”

“I can see that,” I eyed the beer he held in his hand, dangerously close to my dress, “I would like it if you kept your cheap beer away from my dress.”

“Yer a spoiled one, eh?” He snickered, raising his beer up to his lips as he took a huge swing of it. I cringed at the action and looked around, trying to find the boy working here. He must surely tell this weird man to leave me alone. He would do that for me, right?

“And you’re disgusting, old, and poor.” I snapped back, glaring viciously at the man as he suddenly cackled as if I said something funny.

“The feisty ones are good in bed.” My jaw would’ve probably hit the floor if it could, eyes widening at his disgusting words. I huffed loudly, blood boiling at his blatant audacity. My hands clenched into fists and my jaw tightened as I glared furiously at this disgusting pig, a few seconds away from kicking the pint of beer out of his hand and smashing the glass on his head. But just as I pushed my chair back to scream at the man and chase him away, a tall figure inserted himself between the man and myself, black velvet coat way too familiar. It took a few seconds for my hazy brain to catch on that it was the stranger from Mrs. Boo’s ball. My eyes widened as I stared at the back of his head awestruck, wondering whether this was real or if my alcohol infused brain was playing tricks on me now.

“What did you just say?” The man’s voice was very deep, sharp, and it made me shiver as I continued staring at his blonde hair. His shoulders were incredibly broad from up-close, and I suddenly caught a whiff of something very sweet, almost vanilla like. It hadn’t been there before the stranger’s arrival, and it made me bite my lower lip as I felt even more drawn to the stranger.

“How dare you talk to a lady like that, you disgusting pig?!” The stranger’s voice was gravely and I watched taken aback as he took another step towards the old man, towering over him almost dangerously, “You’re lucky there’s too many people watching—otherwise I would’ve cracked your skull open, asshat.”

The old man seemed speechless as he stared up at the handsome stranger with shaking eyes, seemingly at a loss of words, “What—yer asking for it, son! Uneducated prick. How dare you talk to a lord like that? I will call the constable on you—”

“And I will tell the constable that you had been harassing my betrothed.” My heart skipped a beat as my eyebrows rose, staring at the stranger’s profile as I cocked my head to the right. Very subtly, he turned his head towards me and we made eye contact for a second. His lips twitched and I was sure he was trying not to smirk. My alcohol infused brain found the situation hilarious but also interesting, and I found myself playing along as I stepped up next to the handsome stranger, latching onto his right arm.

“Can you make this pig go away, love?” I asked with a pout, throwing a side glance at the old man. His face had turned red and he was glaring dagger at us, it almost made me chuckle. As I looked up in the stranger’s small, but sharp, eyes, the wind was knocked out of my lungs. He was so handsome, breathtaking from up-close. His features were sharp and nothing like I had seen before, a stray strand of blonde hair falling in his eyes. His dark eyes were warm and inviting, even playful as he chuckled, nodding his head at me.

“Will you turn away if I have to punch him?” His deep voice caught a lighter tone and I gulped, trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. I was sure my cheeks were warm, tinged red due to this handsome stranger. My body was reacting in a way it never had towards a man before.

“You shouldn’t bloody your pretty hands because of an incompetent leech.” I found myself saying, my left hand slipping down his arm and intertwining with his fingers. I could hear my own heartbeat, it was very loud and it was in my throat, thumping fast and strongly as the stranger tightened his hold against mine, his cold rings digging into my skin. His palm was calloused and big, almost engulfing mine wholly in his. They were warm and it made my skin feel even hotter than it already was before. Suddenly, he turned his head and his jaw locked, eyes narrowing at the old man.

“Get lost.” His words were punctuated and I watched as a dark look crossed his features, for a second making me question whether he was dangerous or safe to be around. But as he faced me again, his features relaxed and he flashed a wide smile at me, his teeth impeccably white, the front ones protruding a little, giving him a boyish look. His tall nose scrunched and his small eyes became even smaller, and I found myself completely enticed by him. I didn’t realize I let out a small sigh, having forgotten about the old prick as he had finally walked away, muttering profanities under his breath. I couldn’t care anymore as I kept staring into the handsome stranger’s eyes, seeing galaxies in them, dark brown chocolate swirling around his irises. I had completely forgotten that we were holding hands, too taken by his face, and suddenly, he detached himself from me. My body instantly felt cold as he took a small step away from me, a smirk adorning his lips. My eyebrows lightly furrowed as the dim lights swirled around me, but it was clear that he was about to walk away. And I couldn’t let that happen.

“Wait,” I reached out, griping his hand once again, stopping the handsome stranger from leaving, “If you leave right now, that old man will come back to bother me more. Since you lied, we better stick to it.”

The stranger’s eyebrows lightly furrowed as his eyes slowly fell onto our joint hands, and I swiftly let his hand go, feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment. He looked at my face again, but I couldn’t hold eye contact with him just yet.

“You’re right, darling.” My eyes snapped up at the nickname, skin tingling and my stomach doing a weird flip at the hear of it. The stranger smiled at me dashingly, pointing for me to sit as he pulled out a chair for himself. I gulped, not quite considering what I was getting myself into as I took my seat at the table. It was silent between us as the stranger settled down too, our eyes meeting again despite me shying away quickly, all of my confidence suddenly out the window. The handsome stranger opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the young boy working here appeared with a glass of wine and two tall glasses in his hands. My eyes snapped to him as he placed everything down on the table, looking at me expectantly once he poured wine for us. I chuckled and gathered the jewelry I had borrowed and placed it in his open palm. However, the boy didn’t leave right away, he picked at the golden pieces with a frown on his face, looking back at me with narrowed eyes.

“Wasn’t there another necklace?” He asked, his voice judgmental. I chuckled as I grabbed my glass of wine and raised it to my mouth, smelling it. It seemed sweet, but not very fresh. It probably wasn’t from around here. I looked at the boy as I took a small sip of the wine, the taste not quite like I was expecting it to be. Ah, perhaps this is the best this pub could offer.

“Will you serve me actual good wine if there was another one?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking in victory when the boy rolled his eyes, storming away while mumbling, ‘spoiled princess’ under his breath. I chuckled, having forgotten for a second that the handsome stranger was sitting at the table with me. His snort alerted me and I quickly looked at him, but he just stook a large sip of his wine, eyebrows scrunching almost in distaste.

“Oh, well, that’s damn sweet.” My eyebrows raised at his choice of words; his voice gruff as he grimaced. He looked like a gentleman through and through, it was quite rare to hear them cursing, let alone around ladies. This stranger was quite interesting. I took another sip of my drink, checking for the taste again, but I didn’t find it as repulsive as the stranger made it seem to be. I chuckled, quirking an eyebrow in his direction.

“Do you not like it?” I asked lightly, motioning around us, “Would you like a pint of beer like all the other disgusting pricks from inside this pub?”

The man chuckled like I had said something funny, when my question was meant to be very serious. I wanted to know who I was dealing with.

“No, darling, I prefer rum.” He said with a smile, winking as he gulped down the rest of his wine in one go. My eyes widened at that and I glanced back down at my glass, finding that I had barely drunken anything from it. I had to catch up with him, I supposed. This was stupid, deep down I knew it was. What was I doing in a scruffy pub drinking wine with an insanely attractive stranger? This was so dangerous, I could get in so much trouble…yet my mind was focused on different things at the moment due to the alcohol intoxicating it, like the huge ruby ring this man wore on his left middle finger. His hands were placed on the table as he was playing with the glass, passing it between his large hands, his lower lip sucked between his teeth as I didn’t miss the way his eyes ran over my body, checking me out, “What are you doing here all alone, princess?”

I chuckled at the nickname, my stomach doing another weird flip as I took a bigger sip of my wine, suddenly getting bolder under the watchful gaze of the stranger, “What makes you think I’m alone and not with my guardians?”

“I had to step in to help you, didn’t I?” The stranger chuckled, “I doubt your guardians would’ve let that old asshat harass you like that.”

I couldn’t help but giggle when he said ‘asshat’, finding the word new in my vocabulary. I have never heard anyone saying it before, “You’re cursing quite boldly around a lady, love, don’t you fear your gruffness might drive me away?”

“Is it driving you away?” The stranger asked lowly as he suddenly leaned over the table, getting incredibly close to my face. I gulped as I felt at a loss of words, suddenly very aware of the painful thumping of my head. Would drinking more wine help in making that go away?

“No.” I found myself whispering, mesmerized by the glint in his eyes as the stranger hummed, settling back in his seat. My eyes were drawn back to his hands as he started playing with a particularly big ring, a letter carved on it. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it suspiciously looked like the letter A.

“You wear a lot of jewelry, it’s attractive.” I found myself mumbling absentmindedly, eyes widening when I realized the handsome stranger had heard me. He was in the middle of pouring himself another glass of wine, his eyebrows slightly raising as he looked confused for one little second, complacency quickly overtaking his features. His eyes narrowed slightly as he flexed his fingers, wriggling them even, before continuing to pour some more wine for himself. I cleared my throat and straightened my stance, holding my head high, “I haven’t seen you around before. Have you moved here recently?”

The stranger seemed to ponder for a second before he hummed, looking me in the eyes as he took a sip of his wine, “My name is Song Mingi.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Song.” I smiled brightly at him, finally associating a name to the handsome face, “My name is Yoon Y/N.”

Suddenly, he reached over the table and grabbed my hand, pulling my arm towards himself rather forcefully. I watched with interest as he raised my knuckles up to his plush lips and pressed a lasting kiss against it, his nose pressing into my skin, his breath hot as it hit my skin. Suddenly, everything felt hot around me as I watched him, feeling his soft lips and hot breath against the sensitive skin of my hand, it felt overwhelming as goosebumps covered my skin. I knew my face was flushed, but perhaps it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. As he finally pulled my hand away from his face, I felt like I could breathe again and at the look in his eyes, I felt forced to take another large sip of my wine, curious as to where things were leading with this mysterious Song Mingi.

“I’m not quite from here,” He explained, still not having released my hand, “But I am from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”

I hummed, hand getting clammy in his grip, so I gently pulled it back, flexing my fingers as I gripped my glass of wine with both hands, “And what are you doing in this quiet town?”

Mingi chuckled, a playful expression on his face, “Hmm, I’d say I’m a traveler.”

“We don’t have many of those here.” I mumbled as I took another sip, coming to the realization that I had finished my wine. My head spun and body felt hot, the air sticky inside the pub, but I couldn’t find it in myself to move just yet. My father was probably losing his mind by now if he noticed his little daughter was gone.

“Have you traveled outside of your little town, Y/N?” Hearing him say my name felt strange, it sent a shiver down my spine. The way his baritone shook with the pronunciation of my name made my mouth go dry all of a sudden, and to my surprise, Mingi was pouring me another glass of wine. It had completely gone over my head that he was being rather informal with me despite having just met each other. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Of course I have, Mingi.” I paused for a second, watching his reaction to saying his name so casually, but it didn’t seem to bother him, he looked used to it, which was strange, “I’ve visited the Queen’s castle quite a few times already.”

“Oh,” Mingi suddenly seemed quite interested as he leaned forward, one hand reached out on the table, close to mine, “How come?”

I chuckled and shrugged, taking another sip of my wine as Mingi seemed to be patiently waiting for me to continue, “Well, we’re acquittanced, you know?”

His eyes widened for a second, but then he quickly fixed his expression and an overly friendly smile appeared on his lips, “Really? I would have never thought so.”

“Is that so?” I chuckled, licking my smooth lips. It seemed like Mingi thought he might’ve offended me, because his extended hand was suddenly placed over mine, his warm palm pressing against my smaller hand.

“My apologies, darling,” He batted his eyelashes at me, a quite comical look coming from a man, “I did not mean to assume anything. You look quite exactly like a Queen would look like.”

I didn’t mean to laugh so loudly, it was un-ladylike and against everything my governess had taught me, but for some reason I found Mingi’s flattering hilarious. And it was a compliment I hadn’t quite heard before.

“Oh, my, seems like you have met plenty of Queens in your lifetime, then.” I teased him with a cheeky smile. Mingi chuckled, looking down for a second before his gaze connected with mine again.

“I have, and none were as beautiful as you, Y/N.” The obvious and generic compliment shouldn’t have made me blush so deeply, but I opted to blame it on the wine I was consuming currently. I didn’t miss the way Mingi’s lips twitched into a small smirk before he tried to look friendly instead of smug again.

“Don’t you have a way with words, Mr. Song?” I mumbled before taking a small sip of my wine.

“Mingi is just fine.” He corrected and I felt his long finger grazing against my knuckles, caressing them. My heart skipped a beat. I had never been so taken by a man before. Everything about Mingi seemed to draw me in. His looks were the main reason I even paid attention to him in the first place, but his personality was mysterious yet exciting, it kept me wanting to talk to him.

“Mingi, then.” I said with a smile, flipping my hand upside down, Mingi slotted his fingers next to mine instantly, “You must be quite wealthy if you attended Mrs. Boo’s ball tonight.”

Mingi’s smirk returned, but it was cheeky this time, “What if I told you that I sneaked in? Will you continue talking to me? Or will you leave me alone, here at this table, princess?”

I hummed in thought for a second, considering his words. He certainly didn’t look like someone who would sneak into a ball like that, but his behavior was indeed weird. I allowed my eyes to run over his physique, and instantly regretted it as I was presented with his bare chest, the singular vest he had on doing a horrible job at covering the man up. The single silver chain dangling around his neck had my eyes fixated on it, and I had to force my hazy brain to focus on anything else but the way it sat against his collarbones.

“Since you’re being so vague I will continue talking to you, love.” Mingi chuckled, nodding his head, looking quite pleased with my answer, “I only asked because only the richest attend her balls.”

“Oh, really?” Mingi raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his wine, fingers flexing against mine.

“Really.” I said, mirroring him and taking another sip of my wine.

“So, that means you’re filthy rich?” He asked without any hesitation and I laughed again, grinning at him, enjoying how upfront he was.

“Yes, and I would be even richer if my mother hadn’t died.” I might’ve sounded like a spoiled, ungrateful, brat, but I was merely stating the truth. Mingi’s face lit up, an expression unfamiliar overtaking his face. He almost looked hungry…greedy, perhaps. I gulped and watched him, wondering whether saying that was smart or not.

“How come?” He asked nonchalantly, yet the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

“My mother was related to the Queen of the Sun Rise Kingdom, therefore I’m also a descended of the royal family.” If Mingi’s grip on my hand hadn’t been firm, now it turned almost painful, but my heart was racing and I didn’t want him to let go, his skin warm against mine.

“Oh, really?” Mingi grinned like a mad hatter, “So, you’re a princess then?”

I chuckled, shaking my head slowly, “Sadly, I am not. Even though I should be—look at me!”

“Oh, I am looking.” Mingi bit his lower lip as he said that, his intense eyes raking over my body again and suddenly I felt hot all over again, mouth going dry at the sudden shift of his tone and expression, something like hunger appearing in his eyes again, but I couldn’t decipher what it was this time. And I didn’t want to know as my skin tingled once Mingi’s fingers trailed up to my wrist, caressing my soft skin with his lip between his teeth still, “I think you’ve had enough drinks for tonight, princess.”

“Do I?” I challenged as I downed half of my glass in one go, regretting it as it burned my throat slightly. Mingi laughed for the first time, loud and wheezy, head thrown back slightly as he gripped my wrist firmly, fingers hooking around my delicate bracelet. I felt the action and found myself gripping his wrist unconsciously too, linking our hands so nobody would separate us. The silver chain on his wrist dug into my skin, and I found myself gripping it subconsciously, fingers softly feeling around for a clasp. But Mingi suddenly stood, taking my attention off the bracelet my fingers itched to slip off his wrist.

“Darling, let me walk you home,” He carefully pulled me up to my feet, making me aware of how badly my world was spinning around me at this point, “I would hate it if any gentleman took advantage of you.”

“I would hate that as well.” I said as I looked up in his eyes, his body suddenly too close to mine, my eyes landing on his exposed collarbones. Mingi’s hand slipped back down and he intertwined his fingers with mine as suddenly there was a finger underneath my chin, tilting my head up.

“Should I lead the way?” He asked almost breathless, staring down in my eyes deeply. I licked my lips as I watched his lips form the words, lips which looked soft and plush. I wondered what they tasted like.

“Yes, please, lead the way.” I whispered, daring to look back in his eyes once again.

“Good, princess.” And then he maneuvered us out of the pub, the air now chilly as we walked down the dark streets of the town. My world was spinning with me nauseatingly, and the dark made it harder to see anything. I knew which way I had to walk to reach the Yoon Manor, and surprisingly Mingi did too as he lead the way confidently. For someone who wasn’t from here, he knew the roads extremely well. Or maybe I was simply too drunk to realize that Mingi wasn’t leading me back to the safety of my manor, but towards the beach which my room overlooked. The breeze was pleasant despite the chill in the air, and I realized I was struggling to walk in my high heels, ankles aching with each step as Mingi had to steady me, allowing me to lean into his side as he threw one arm around my shoulders, while interlocking his fingers with mine with his other hand. Nothing much was said between the two of us as we continued on walking, huffs and puffs leaving my lips way too often, my eyes threatening to drop every second.

“Mingi,” I whispered, body completely worn out, “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

We stopped walking, and I felt a hand cupping my cheek as I closed my eyes and nuzzled into the warm palm. Suddenly, the familiar sweet scent of vanilla engulfed my senses and I was a second too late to realize that I wasn’t standing on my feet anymore, “Let me carry you, princess.”

I hummed as I allowed my eyes to fall closed shut, arms around Mingi’s neck as he carried me, holding me securely in his strong arms. The vanilla was even stronger, now and I couldn’t help but notice the added scent of salt and…gunpowder? I inhaled deeply as my nose pressed against Mingi’s collarbone, and I heard him gasp quietly.

“Are you sure you know the way towards the Yoon Manor?” I mumbled into his skin, my lips pressing against his warm flesh. Mingi’s hold seemed to tighten as he cleared his throat, voice sounding raspier than before.

“Of course, princess. You can go to sleep now.” And because I was drunk and foolish, I followed his command, closing my eyes and falling asleep to the steady beats of his heart, failing to notice that we were way too far from the Yoon manor…and we’d only get even more far away from it.

A loud crash resounding around me made me suddenly stir. My body felt cold and stiff as I lay unmoving, eyes squeezed tight shut, suddenly aware of the soft rocking of the bed. It made me wonder where that could be coming from or was it…the alcohol’s fault? Almost as if thinking about it sent some sensors off in my brain, my head started pulsing harshly, making me whine as I raised a hand to press against my forehead, softly rubbing my sweaty skin. My nose scrunched up as I tapped my forehead, then face, realizing the air was quite damp around me as my dress stuck to my skin. With a grimace expanding on my lips, I became aware of the weird stench surrounding me. It smelled like the sea and…fish. And I hated fish, it almost made me gag.

“Soyeon, Soojin.” I croaked out, almost inaudibly, surprised by how dry my throat felt. I gulped a few times, clearing my throat in an attempt of trying to get my voice to work as I called out again, slightly louder, “Soyeon. Soojin.”

I waited a few seconds, listening to the thudding of feet against the marble floors, the opening of my door, but there was nothing. My maids were nowhere to be found…or heard. I huffed and turned onto my side, nuzzling my nose against the silky sheet of the pillow, a little off-thrown by the vanilla scent of it. That’s certainly not what my pillowcases smell like, but perhaps the servants scented it differently this time and failed to let me know about it. That was something they would be reprimanded for as I didn’t like it when they did something without asking me first. I quite enjoy the fruity scent of my pillowcases.

“Soyeon.” I snapped, voice harsher, “Soojin.”

Eyebrows furrowing, I waited for my maids to finally spring into action, but there was nothing still, “Soyeon! Soojin!”

Eyes snapping open furiously, I was about to huff and puff loudly, but my whole blood froze in me. My eyes widened and anger vanished instantly as I realized I was in a foreign room. Eyes turning to the pillow I had my head on, I realized it wasn’t mine, and I instantly sprung up into a sitting position.

What was this?

Where was I?

With a gaping mouth, I took in the room, appalled by its simplicity and—by how mucked up it was. The large closet right next to the bed seemed eaten up by wood-beetles, the door quite off its hinges. Suddenly, I was thrown back into the bed and I groaned, eyebrows furrowing as I couldn’t quite fathom what was happening. There was a rather loud groan coming from somewhere outside this beaten down room, and I sat back up, continuing to take in the room. There was a desk underneath the small round window, and it was littered with books. My interest would’ve been peeked if I wasn’t in an unknown room, which, by the way, made my skin crawl due to its state. There were three large chests on the wall opposite of the bed, all closed, and apparently locked with an iron locket. My heart was beating fast and I felt myself sweating even more as I realized I could’ve been kidnaped, that some disgusting, crazed, man decided to take me captive and only God knows what will happen to me now—Mingi. Wasn’t…didn’t I leave with a man last night? A very handsome stranger, no, Song Mingi. That was his name. But he said he’d take me home, so why was I here right now?

I gasped, pressing my hands against my mouth as the thought occurred that perhaps something happened to Mingi. That would be such a shame, the man was too handsome for his own good. My skin tingled just at the thought of him, and I couldn’t help but blush as hazy memories of being in his arms, nose pressed against his bare skin, resurfaced in my mind. But reality quickly washed over me as there was another tumble to this strange place I found myself in, making me panic once again as I realized I had to get out of here somehow. I needed my father; he would know what to do. Even my maids would know! My lips quivered as I realized I was left alone and defenseless, this crazed man who kidnapped me could do anything to me right now, and I wouldn’t be able to protect myself. I blinked away the tears in my eyes as I reluctantly threw my legs over the edge of the bed, deciding that I needed to do something for myself right now. My father and maids weren’t around to guide me, I had to use all my knowledge while I remained calm and level-headed. But I couldn’t help trying once again, hopeful that this was just a bad dream that I haven’t woken up from just yet.

“Papa!” I screamed loudly, gripping the bedsheets tightly in my hands, “Soojin! Soyeon!”

And suddenly, there was another loud crash coming from outside of the room and I jumped, muscles tensing as my eyes snapped to the door. There was a loud deep groan, and then this weird place rocked violently again, sending something crashing into the door from the outside. I could hear a muffled voice cursing loudly as the door was suddenly flung open, making my eyes widen as I sprung up to my feet in fright. I didn’t know what was about to happen right now, but I was ready to put up a fight if this monster of a man, who dared to kidnap me, tried doing anything to me. But the scream I was ready to let out got stuck in my throat as I was met with a rather familiar face.

In the daylight, he looked completely different. His long blonde hair was in a manbun, a few shorter strands falling out of it as it framed his face. His skin looked to be glowing as sweat sheen on his exposed chest, the skin tan, and smooth looking. Mingi looked even taller in the rather small room we were in, his white shirt unbuttoned down to his chest, three different length silver chains adorning his neck, falling against his tan skin. Leather black pants clung to his muscular thighs, and I was slightly taken aback by his narrow waist, the thick leather belt hugging it tightly, his shirt tucked in. I knew a few ladies who would’ve killed to have his waist.

“Hey, quit screaming.” Mingi hissed, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me with his sharp eyes, “Not everyone is up yet, princess.”

I gulped, trying to gather my thoughts. Why did his voice sound even deeper compared to last night?

“What am I doing here?” I managed to ask, blinking my eyes fast when I caught myself staring at his rather firm chest. Mingi remained silent for a second, staring at me with amusement washing over his face.

“Well, princess,” He started, walking further inside the room, making me step back as the back of my knees crashed into the bed behind me, I felt caged in, “You needed a helping hand last night as you were a tad bit too drunk.”

Mingi chuckled as he watched confusion written all over my face as I tried to place the missing pieces together. Well yes, he wasn’t wrong, I might’ve had too much to drink last night, but that still didn’t explain why I wasn’t currently in my room, with my maids there to take care of me, and with my father screaming at me for running off last night. I could only assume this was Mingi’s place, and it was disgusting. Wasn’t he rich? And if he was, why did his place look like this? Certainly there must be nicer Inns in this little town, why did he willingly choose to stay in the dirties and most beaten down one?

“Well, I—” I cleared my throat as it still felt dry, I found it a little bit hard to speak, “I certainly had a little bit more than a lady like myself is supposed to have.”

I tried to look confident, ignore the light flush of my cheeks as I remembered more of what has happened last night, the way Mingi’s fingers curled against mine, his rings digging into my skin. Almost as if on cue, my eyes travelled down towards his hands, and I wasn’t surprised to find them decorated by big and thick rings, the red ruby on his middle finger almost glinting in the sunlight coming through the small round window of this wretched room. Mingi hummed, making me look back up at his face as I tried to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips. But he didn’t say anything, and it made me nervous as I sniffed, fidgeting on the bed for a second before I stood once again, glancing around the room. Since I wasn’t kidnaped by a scruffy man, but Mingi…did it mean I was here because…something that I failed to recall has happened between the two of us last night?

And as if Mingi could read my mind, a chuckle left his lips, “You move around a lot in your sleep, princess, I certainly got an elbow to my ribs once or twice during the night—”

“During the night?!” I didn’t mean to exclaim as my eyes widened, mouth going even drier, “We—we slept in the same bed?!”

Mingi raised his eyebrows nonchalantly and took another step towards me, making me clutch onto the skirt of my dress, “Of course, we did, princess. Did you think I would offer up my precious bed to you and sleep on the hard wooden floor myself?”

“Well, I—yes.” I said as I threw him a small glare, “That’s what a gentleman is supposed to do.”

Mingi chuckled, giving me a cheeky smile, “But I’m not a gentleman, darling. God forbid I treat you like the princess you are.”

I wasn’t an actual princess, but I didn’t feel like correcting him, “But if we slept in the same bed—oh, no.”

I let out a harsh breath, eyes widening as I glanced behind myself at the bed, heart suddenly thumping wildly. My ears started ringing and I bit my lower lip, eyebrows furrowing as I wracked my brain to remember anything…inappropriate that’s happened between myself and Mingi. But I was coming up blank, and it only unsettled me more as Mingi remained unphased, an amused smirk on his lips when I looked back up at him.

“Oh, no, what, darling?” He closed the gap between our bodies and suddenly reached out, twirling a curly strand of my hair between his fingers, “Do you not remember? Didn’t think you’d forget based on the way you were screaming my name last night.”

“Wha—what?!” I stammered mortified. Mingi had the audacity to pout as I swiftly slapped his hand playing with my hair away, skin burning, and face beat red. For a second, I couldn’t breathe as Mingi remained silent, obviously enjoying my distress as he chuckled loudly, leaning slightly down to be eye level with me. My eyebrows furrowed and I leaned back, hands fisting the skirt of my dress so tightly that my grip was becoming painful.

“Your face is precious right now, darling.” Mingi chuckled, and I felt on the verge of passing out from embarrassment and anger, “But as much as I love the look on your face, I have to admit that it was just a bloody joke, Y/N. I like my partners conscious and sober when we have sex, darling, and you were passed out and far from sobriety. And even I, myself, certainly wasn’t in the right state last night to even think of doing anything to you.”

I needed a moment to truly understand Mingi’s words, soak them in and analyze them, to finally realize that we hadn’t actually done anything. Like he had said, I passed out from drinking too much, and based on his words, he was also too drunk to attempt doing anything. Knowing this settled the frantic beat of my heart, but I still didn’t feel at ease. I was a respectable and an exemplary lady, even just sharing a bed for a night with a man would ruin my reputation and pure image. My father would certainly lose his mind if he were to ever know.

“Good,” I snapped, bunching up my skirt around my ankles, glaring daggers at Mingi, “and you’re not funny, Mingi, your sense of humor is quite lacking if you enjoy watching a lady in distress due to such sensitive topic. And if we’re done here now, then I’m leaving.”

I went to push past Mingi as I huffed loudly, but his hand shot forward all of a sudden, and he gripped my upper arm, “You’re not going anywhere, Y/N.”

“Yes, I am.” I snapped with a tsk, yanking on my arm, but he didn’t want to release it. Mingi just rolled his eyes and tightened his grip, leaning closer in as his own eyes narrowed at me.

“No, you’re not.” He emphasized his words, voice imitating mine, slightly deeper as he was glaring back at me now, looking rather intimidating. A blonde strand fell into his eye and I was rather flabbergasted when I found myself wanting to tuck it behind his ear.

“Oh, really?” I smirked, stepping so close to him that the toes of our shoes pressed against each other painfully, our faces barely inches away as I raised my head, “And who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do, Mingi?”

“Well, for starters, I’m Mingi.” The stupid smile that showed his adorable front teeth was irritating, and my jaw clenched as Mingi’s fingers teasingly glided down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine, yanking on my hand so that I fell against his chest. I gasped, craning my neck to look up at him, heart beating fast as our exposed collarbones lightly brushed against each other, “And I’m a pirate, sweetheart. And I’ve taken you hostage, so until daddy dearest pays up, you’re staying here with me.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I studied his face for any signs of amusement, but Mingi was serious. Too serious all of a sudden, and I found myself panicking once again as I lightly shook my head no, “Right, and you expect me to believe you, because—”

“Because the whole town is looking for you right now as we speak, and unless daddy dearest decided to sleep in—which I highly doubt—then he’s found a letter with my pretty handwriting on the desk in his study room, and is writing back to us just this second, probably desperate enough to pay us the requested money, if that means he gets his little gemstone back.” Did Mingi consider that I was like a gemstone, then? I subtly shook my head, getting rid of such silly thoughts in such serious situation. This couldn’t be real, I must be still asleep, having a nightmare. There’s no possibility that I was kidnapped by a pirate, who’s now asking my father to pay him copious amount of money if he wants me back. It felt like my stomach dropped all of a sudden, and I felt nauseous just like last night as my eyebrows furrowed.

“I—I—” I took a deep breath and gripped Mingi’s fingers tightly, gritting my teeth as I refused to allow this stupid pirate to play around with me, “I refuse to be your hostage.”

My words sent Mingi into a fit of giggles and my glare just deepened as he seemed to gloss over my words, throwing his head back as his giggles turned into loud laughter. Wasn’t I supposed to stay silent because other’s were still sleeping? Did that not apply to Mingi as well? But his momentarily lack of attention served me just right as I remembered he never bothered to close the door of the room, or lock it for that matter, and it was my chance for an escape. It was too easy, too perfect, and I took advantage of that to the fullest. Just as Mingi opened his mouth, seemingly having calmed down, my right leg rose as I aimed for his neither region, kneeling him hard in the balls. Mingi’s lips parted in a loud cry and I chuckled as I was able to push him back, send him tumbling into the desk as he doubled over, face scrunched up in pain as he started moaning in pain. I didn’t waste any more time as I took off towards the door, sprinting out of the room, a little disheartened when I noticed the long hallway littered with doors on both sides. But I noticed light pouring down from one direction and I took off towards it, the skirt of my dress raised above my knees as I felt thankful for being a fast runner, my feet carrying me to the stairs in no time, able to hear the waves crashing against the shore and the salty air as I ran up the stairs, momentarily blinded by the strong sunlight. I have reached my freedom, Mingi had no chance of catching me, and I would return home to my father unscathed, saving him from having to give out God knows how much money to this stupid pirate.

But I wasn’t prepared for the scene unfolding in front of me as I reached the top of the stairs. A man held a big sword in his hands as he seemed to be sparring with a red-haired woman, their swords loud as they clashed against each other. There was a man climbed up high and looking over the water. There were a few men walking around, pulling barrels or just sharpening their knives, but perhaps, what was the most shocking was how far away the shore seemed to be. It sent my heart into a frenzy as I stepped further outside, realizing that water was the only thing that surrounded us, making it harder to breathe as I spun around in one place, taking everything in. The stench in the room, the sea and the fish, the constant rocking and loud waves—we were out on the open sea on a large ship. I gasped as I pressed a hand against my mouth, trying to catch my breath as my heart was pumping wildly, making me dizzy as the loud clanking of swords came to an abrupt stop, becoming eerily silent around me as I looked up. All eyes were on me, and I gulped nervously, unsettled by the weird looks the older men were giving me. Or perhaps I should calling them pirates. I wasn’t so curious to find out anything more about them, I just wanted to go home to my father. There were some rapid thuds behind me, until I became aware of the footsteps headed heavily towards me, catching me off guard when a harsh grip was settled around my bicep. It didn’t feel like Mingi’s grip, however, and I found myself struggling against it instantly, uncaring of the people watching. I had to free myself, I needed to get away sooner than later while I was still up on deck. Perhaps I could swim back to the shore.

“Let me go you filthy—” My eyes widened as I whipped my head around, yanking against the grip, only to be taken off guard at the extremely gorgeous man back staring at me, unbudging despite my attempts to free myself, “oh, you look quite pristine for a pirate.”

An amused chuckle left the black-haired man’s lips, and his hair was in a manbun similar to Mingi’s, however his hair was a lot longer. His eyes were big and his lips plump, his skin tan. His outfit was put together and looked to be in perfect state, a dark corset around his torso as a long coat hung off his shoulders, I’ve never seen a man wear a corset before. He was tall, but not as tall as Mingi.

“That’s a compliment I hadn’t gotten before,” His voice was deeper, yet his chuckle high pitched. He talked smoothly and elegantly, confusing me the longer I took him in, “But I must ask who you are, love.”

“You first, love.” I snapped, eyes narrowing at the stupidly gorgeous man. He chuckled, lips curling into a rather unsettling smile as his round eyes lost their friendliness.

“Park Seonghwa, Quartermaster of Ateez, pleased, love?” His tone was mocking and rather cold, unappreciative of my demanding nature. I gulped and nodded, but refused to speak up. I wasn’t about to give away my identity, it meant not everyone knew who I was. Maybe it was just Mingi who knew, and I intended on keeping it that way.

“And just who brought this yapping brat on my ship?” There was another voice calling out, higher pitched and snappy, and I gasped offended as my eyes snapped up towards the voice. There was a cat-like eyed man leaning over the railing, features sharp and well defined as his aura was demanding and intimidating, glaring daggers at me.

Before I could say anything, there was another unknown voice speaking up, “Probably Mingi, you know he has an affinity for shiny new things—”

A groan cut his words off as I looked his way, surprised to find the red-haired woman glaring at the tall man, he seemed to be around Mingi’s height. The man chuckled sheepishly, looking away from the woman with a shrug, “What? You know it’s true.”

“Yunho.” The woman reprimanded as my eyes remained on them, noticing the quick yet obvious loving look in the man’s eyes as he smiled at the woman, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. It made me think of Mingi as he often did that, and I found myself blushing stupidly as I huffed out loud. It caught the attention of the man holding me and I quickly yanked my arm free, stumbling as I had thought he wouldn’t release me so easily. I caught my footing quickly, however, and quickly patted down my dress, pulling my shoulders back and holding my chin high. The man holding me previously and the other one leaning against the railing chuckled almost simultaneously and I scowled, giving them both a glare that would’ve shut up any servant back at the manor, but these two idiots seemed even more amused as they started snickering while they shared a glance.

“Hey!” There was suddenly a commotion downstairs, until loud thuds hit the wooden stairs as my head snapped towards the sound, “Y/N! Come back here! I will—”

Mingi froze as he got on deck, now all eyes on him as his chest was heaving, eyes widening when he looked up towards the railing, “Captain!”

“Good morning, Mingi.” The man smirked, placing his chin in his open palm, “Care to explain yourself?”

“This isn’t like last time, I swear!” Mingi was quick to exclaim, and gone was the cocky and confident man as his eyes widened, and he scrambled to explain himself to the, apparently, Captain of the ship, “She’s like—super rich. She’s a princess, Hongjoong! We’re gonna get so much money this time, that we won’t have to trade for a whole month!”

“Is that so, Mingi?” The Captain looked intrigued as he quirked an eyebrow, looking in my direction. I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the man, “But Wooyoung and Haneul are taking care of that issue currently.”

“Sure, but we’ve still got some weeks until we meet up with them, surely the plus income comes in handy, right, Seonghwa?” Mingi raised his eyebrows as he looked towards the other man with a manbun, who’s lips were pursed as he hummed.

“I’m always up for more money, but it depends what our Captain wants—”

“I’m not a princess.” I suddenly stated loudly, all eyes snapping onto me. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked confused for a second before his eyes narrowed.

“Too late, princess, you’ve already told me last night—”

“And I lied.” I smirked, looking at Mingi challengingly as his eyebrows furrowed even more as he took some steps towards me.

“No, you didn’t—”

“I am related to the Queen, but I am not a princess, although I should be one.” There were a few snickers but I didn’t look to see from whom as I watched Mingi’s expression fall, and face contort into anger. It felt nice to have the upper hand for once, having tricked him into believing I was royalty. I chuckled, grinning as he came to a stop in front of me.

“In that case, throw her overboard.” My eyes widened at the Captain’s nonchalant sentence, attention already elsewhere as he went back to the wheel, looking out onto the sea.

“Hongjoong—” The red-haired woman started, but I cut her off as my heartbeat picked up again.

“I’m rich!” I exclaimed, looking between Mingi and the Captain, “My father can surely pay however much you ask of him. We are…filthy rich!”

Mingi chuckled, looking at me smugly, and it made me want to grab onto his manbun and yank on it.

“Is that so?” The Captain called, but looked rather uninterested as Seonghwa also seemed to turn his attention elsewhere, looking like he started patrolling, talking to the other pirates on deck. Yunho and the red-haired girl also went back to sparing, and I just now noticed that the man high up in the sky was watching everything unfold beneath him.

“I’ll take care of her, don’t worry, Hongjoong.” Mingi mockingly saluted towards the Captain before he gripped me by the nape and turned me around, forcing me to walk towards the stairs. I hissed and tried to get out of his grip, but Mingi just grunted in warning and made me walk down the stairs, leading me back to that God-awful room, probably.

As the minutes went by, I started to realize that this man was just as stupid as any other one, not one complete or smart thought in his head as he stood glaring in my direction, seemingly having ran out of patience. I scoffed as I glared back at him, just as fed up with him as he was with me. As Mingi opened his mouth to speak, I quickly spoke up with a loud and clear voice.

“For the last time, Song Mingi, you are not chaining me to your goddamn bed!” My voice cracked at the end as I was turning borderline hysterical, body starting to shake. There was no way in hell that this man was chaining me to his dirty bed!

“And for the last time, Yoon Y/N, I am chaining you to my goddamn bed!” Mingi snapped back, his deep voice a few octaves higher as the huff he let out was loud, eyes ablaze. My jaw tensed and I crossed my arms in front of my chest, staring him down challengingly.

“If you touch me, I will break your fingers and then Lieutenant Kim will have your head for it—”

“Is that the man you were dancing with at that ridiculous ball?” Mingi cut me off, jaw tense like mine as his grip tightened around the chains he was holding in both hands. They looked heavy, and I refused to have those rusty things touching my skin.

“Why?” I smirked, uncrossing my arms, “Are you jealous?”

Mingi scoffed, rolling his eyes theatrically, “As if…you wish, darling.”

“As much as I love a little drama,” I smiled sweetly, raising my hand to look at my nails nonchalantly, rather unpleased to see the nail polish already peeling off. Soojin had always been quite incompetent when it came to applying nail polish, “I’d rather not have a stupid and incompetent pirate and a gorgeous but poor Lieutenant fighting over me—”

“How arrogant to think that’d we’d ever want to fight over you.” Mingi cut me off, snappy as he stormed up to me, glaring down at me. My lips curled into a mocking smirk as I grabbed his hands and squeezed them harder over the chain he was holding, making him hiss.

“Surely you didn’t take me hostage just because I’m rich,” I chuckled, trailing my forefinger from his wrist right up to his elbow, watching as Mingi gulped nervously, “If I wasn’t as beautiful as I am, you wouldn’t have even as much as glanced my way, pirate.”

Mingi seemed to fidget for a second, but he cleared his throat and looked at me intently, eyes narrowing, “You seem to think rather highly of yourself, princess, so let me set some things straight. In fact, I did not give two flying fucks about your or any other lady’s looks from that ball when I was looking for my next prey. I’m not here looking for a partner, I’m here looking for money. And whoever has the bigger wealth, is whoever I pick. Maybe this will humble you a little, darling, but you were the easiest prey last night as you had stupidly exposed yourself to everyone by leaving that God-awful ball…and you just made my job so much easier, thank you for that, peasant.”

I gasped at the last word, slapping Mingi’s exposed chest before pushing him backwards, glaring at him furiously as a wide smirk stretched onto his lips, watching me smugly and pleased of himself, while I tried to control my rage. How dare he disrespect me like that?! Who was he to say such things to me, a noble and higher up on the social anarchy?! He was the peasant here, not me.

“And a peasant must be put on chains, unless we want them causing any more problems—”

“A peasant,” I took a deep breath, trying to control the tremor in my voice, “doesn’t have to beg for others to give them money, to blackmail a poor father after kidnaping his daughter, nor does he have to think about how to fend for himself day after day—oh, wait! That is what a peasant does, pirate, sounds like you two have a lot more in common than I, a noble, and a peasant does. So who exactly are you calling a peasant here, idiot?”

Mingi’s jaw locked as he bit his lower lip, nodding his head wordlessly, staring down at the wooden floor, chains rattling in his grip as he shook his hands. I continued to hold my head high as Mingi slowly looked up, eyes ablaze and face turned into a scowl as a venomous expression spread over his face, “Excuse me, your highness, that not all of us are raised in puff and lavish. That not all of us have thirty servants fending for our mansions and castles, maids who wipe our asses because we don’t know how to do that ourselves, or chests filled with gold to the brim, awaiting to be spent on useless items, such as the newest dress the Queen thinks is fashionable. And now—shut up, Y/N, I’ve had enough of hearing your stupid voice and ignorant words! I’ll chain you up, and you will shut up, unless you want me to gag you as well.”

And then he suddenly marched up to me, the backs of my knees already pressing into the bed, leaving no space for me to run away. My eyebrows furrowed and I whined as he took hold of my left wrist forcefully, trying to push me down on the bed, but I held myself strong, glaring daggers in his face as we made eye contact. Mingi was visibly furious, a constant sneer on his face as he hissed, a silent warning in his eyes for me to stop. But I wouldn’t stop, did he think he could scare me with empty words? If he treated me like this, I would be his worst nightmare. And just as he went to grip my other hand to push me down on the bed, I moved faster, right hand going above his head and fingers tangling tightly in his manbun. Mingi’s eyes found mine, and for a second, he looked confused, but then he gasped as I yanked on his hair hard, tilting his head back as I made sure all of my fingers were tightly tangled into his blonde locks, nails pushing against his scalp.

“What the hell, Y/N!” He screamed, voice high pitched as the chains suddenly hitting the floor made a loud noise, making me cringe and whine in pain as they hit my bare toes. That would certainly bruise, and so, with a glare, I looked back at Mingi, who was grabbing my wrist with both hands now, trying to pull my hand away, only failing and making me yank more on his locks, “Hey, stop it!”

I scoffed and pulled his head lower, making Mingi’s back bend backwards as I stepped around him, pulling him forcefully after myself. Mingi was fighting back, but having to crouch down and walk at the same time didn’t allow him much choice, he couldn’t push me off himself. I didn’t know where I was headed, but walking him around the room like this perhaps taught him a lesson, so, I started walking us aimlessly, pulling harder and harder on his hair, Mingi’s whines turning into loud groans and hisses.

“Oh, you’re asking for it, Y/N, when I get my hands on you—”

“What, will you chain me to the bed?” I asked sweetly, abruptly stopping, Mingi crashing into my side. I leaned close to his face, grinning wickedly as I yanked on his hair again, which was surprisingly soft, making him grit his teeth at me, “Will you gag me and taunt me more? Poor little Mingi, his fragile ego hurt by a woman merely stating the truth—”

“You are a bitch.” I gasped and yanked him forward, sinking my other hand into his hair too, our bodies pressed against each other as Mingi struggled to keep up.

“Maybe I am a bitch, but when I get back to my papa, I will continue on living my life like nothing happened, while you’ll have a target on your head that will make you and your crew perish,” I grinned evilly, Mingi’s face twisting with another wave of anger, “I wouldn’t say you got much out of this whole ordeal, Mingi.”

To my surprise, he stopped struggling against me, his grip loose against my wrists, making my eyebrows furrow. I thought I had finally knocked some sense into him, but suddenly his hands moved, and I felt his large palm against the back of my head, long fingers tangled into my hair, silver rings digging into my scalp. My eyes widened when I realized what he was about to do, and a loud gasp left my lips as Mingi finally yanked on my hair, tilting my head back. I yelped loudly, tears springing into my eyes as he used more force than I did on him, the fragile strands pulling my scalp harshly, making it burn.

“How does it feel to get your own treatment, princess?” Mingi’s tone was mocking, but he still hissed when my fingers flexed, “I bet your maids hate your fucking guts, Y/N. You’re horrible—”

“Say something new if you want to actually insult me—” I yelped again as Mingi yanked harder, the corset still tight around my body, not allowing me to bend my back anymore backwards, “Stop it!”

“If you let me go first—”

“Never.” I hissed, making Mingi groan.

“You’re so fucking stubborn—I won’t chain you to the bed, for fuck’s sake, just let me go!” Mingi screamed, voice raw and annoyed, aggressively puffing his chest out into mine.

“You first!” I screamed back, adamant on not letting go first. It would give him the upper hand, I wasn’t stupid! Mingi groaned loudly and suddenly the burn was gone from my scalp, his fingers untangled from my locks, hand gone from my head. As he opened his mouth, I did the same and Mingi hissed, standing up to his full height, glaring daggers at me. My heart seemed to jump into my throat as we stood pressed chest to chest, our breathing rather ragged, jaw gritted and glare sharp, the tall man looming over me.

“You vex me.” Mingi hissed, fisting his palms at his side.

“And you irk me.” I hissed back, looking him in the eyes with a defying look. He just shook his head and stepped back, leaving me rather confused as he walked to his closet, not before kicking the chains to the side, and opened the door. It almost came off and he had to steady it with both hands to stop it from falling down, but suddenly he dug inside and when he pulled his hand back, he turned his head to throw me a glance. And then, clothes were thrown in my face and my eyebrows furrowed as I scrambled to catch the items before they fell, giving Mingi a confused look.

“Change out of your clothes, you stink.” I rolled my eyes before looking down at the foreign clothing items. Were those pants? I’ve never worn such thing before, they were for men…but then again, that red-headed woman up on the deck wore pants as well. Was this the latest trend? Couldn’t be, I never heard the Queen saying anything about it.

“I don’t stink,” I gave Mingi a look as I placed the clothes on the desk, placing my hands on my hips, “However, you do.”

Mingi scoffed, mirroring my stance, “Oh, really? My apologies, princess, but we’ve run out of milk and roses a week ago. I will make sure to pick these items up the next time we dock down, cannot go around smelling like dead fish and sweat, now, can I?”

“At least you’re aware.” I muttered with a smirk, making Mingi close his eyes for a second as he inhaled and exhaled, suddenly looking tired as he opened his eyes.

“I don’t stink.” He snapped and I chuckled, grabbing the white shirt to inspect it. I brought it up to my nose, and was rather taken aback to find it smelling like vanilla. My eyes found Mingi’s and his eyebrows were raised as he stared at me, but I refused to voice my thoughts. How could a pirate smell like vanilla?

“Well,” I snapped, placing the shirt down again, “Will you turn around? I have to change.”

Mingi made to pretend he was thinking, pressing his forefinger into his plump lower lip, his eyebrows furrowing cutely, “Hmm, let me think—no!”

The smirk on his lips made my skin crawl as he shamelessly racked his eyes over my body, making me feel suddenly naked under his darkening gaze despite being fully clothed. I gulped, aware of my cheeks suddenly flushing, but not out of embarrassment. I was flustered and…before I could dwell more on it, I grabbed a book from the table and flung it at Mingi, making him grunt as the book’s spine crashed into his exposed chest.

“Heavens, you’re so infuriating.” He muttered as he rolled his eyes, finally turning his back to me. I smiled in triumph and then quickly went to undo the buttons of the dress at the front, careful with my actions as the dress was valuable and had sentimental value to me. The fabric was soft and fragile and once the last button was undone, I carefully slid the sleeves off my hands, skin covered in goosebumps as the temperature was rather low in Mingi’s atrocious room. I was careful as I finally stepped out of the green dress, folding it in two and placing it onto the back of the chair. I tensed when I heard movement coming from Mingi’s direction, but when I looked, he was still facing me with his back and he seemed to have opened the book as he hummed, probably flipping through the pages. It’s rather peculiar that a pirate is interested in literature. The books on his desk were almost identical to the one’s in my father’s library from the forbidden section, my favorite ones. I quickly unclasped the item that Soojin and Soyeon called the ‘upside-down basket’, the one that made the skirts of my dresses big, princess like. I raised it overhead and placed it onto the ground next to me before pushing my stockings down my legs, glad that my skin would finally stop being itchy. My undergarment was covered by a silk gown that reached mid-thigh and the last thing I had to get rid off before I could wear Mingi’s clothes was the corset. I reached around myself, feeling up my back to find the strings, and then pulled. But nothing happened. I sighed quietly, pulling again and hoping I could untangle it, but nothing happened. The corset was still as tight as ever, my hands couldn’t reach far back, I couldn’t do this on my own. My eyes ventured towards Mingi, but I quickly shook my head at the ridiculous idea. I’d rather die than have Mingi help me…but then again, if I had to wear this corset for much longer, I might just die. My torso felt numb, and it ached as the corset dug into my skin uncomfortably, my breasts also aching from being pushed up for such long time. I sighed again and looked in Mingi’s direction, biting my lower lip. He surely wouldn’t do anything inappropriate if I were to ask him to help, right?

I cleared my throat and shuffled uncomfortably, “Mingi…”

There was no response at all, it seemed like he hadn’t heard me, “Mingi.”

“What?” His tone was snappy, and I licked my lips, looking at the floor.

“I, uh—can you undo my corset?” I asked quietly and glanced up, watching Mingi’s body tense as silence followed for a brief moment.

“Can I what?” He asked bewildered.

“Unlace my corset, Mingi.” I snapped, impatient, “I can’t do it myself; my hands don’t reach that far behind.”

“Oh.” Mingi muttered and he took a deep breath before wordlessly nodding his head. I wasn’t exactly prepared as he turned around, cheeks slightly red as he seemed to be looking at my face only, biting his lower lip nervously as he slowly approached me. I averted my eyes and cleared my throat awkwardly, swirling around as I grabbed my own arms, rubbing at my cold skin, trying to offer myself comfort as I heard Mingi come to a stop behind me. There was a soft thud and I glanced back to see the book placed on the table.

“Alright, I’ll unlace your corset.” His raspy voice was low as it was quiet, and my body tensed when I felt his fingers brush against the exposed skin of my back. I had to remind myself to breathe as I was too hyper focused on every move of Mingi’s, the softness his fingers worked with as he started undoing the knots, gently pulling the strings apart. I licked my lips as his finger brushed against my heated skin, untangling the top two knots, already bringing even the littlest relief to my body as I exhaled harshly.

“Did I hurt you?” Mingi asked quietly, stopping. I quickly shook my head as my fingers dug into the skin of my arms, trying to find a steady breath as my heart was beating faster and faster. My face felt hot and I knew it was probably red.

“No, I’m fine.” I whispered, and Mingi grunted once before I felt his fingers move again, slightly yanking my body backwards as he probably couldn’t untangle a knot that easily. Soyeon and Soojin always tied my corsets tightly and expertly, otherwise I would’ve fired them long ago. I cleared my throat as Mingi started humming quietly, suddenly aware that his body was close to mine as his warmth engulfed mine, luring me in with his vanilla scent, mixed with the sea and gunpowder, which was more prominent now than it was last night. My cheeks flushed even more when I remembered the way my nose had pressed against his exposed collarbone, breathing in deep his scent, finding comfort in it and the way Mingi’s larger body seemed to hold me so securely, making me feel the safest I ever have. I gulped, rather loudly, and felt even more knots come loose as suddenly the pressure was taken off my ribs, allowing me to breathe freely, my lungs finally able to fill with air to the fullest. I gasped quietly, palms balling up into fists as Mingi’s fingers brushed against my clothed back, and it arched subconsciously as my skin erupted in goosebumps. I heard a loud gulp from behind and tried to ignore the way I could hear Mingi breathing, making me shudder involuntarily. He suddenly sniffed loudly as he undid more knots, lower ribs freed too, and I closed my eyes as I exhaled quietly in relief, body no longer straining and aching from the restriction the garment offered. I smiled in content, body relaxing and unaware that I leaned back against Mingi, arms hanging limply next to my body as I relished in the feeling that taking off the corset meant after so many hours of wearing it. However, I flinched when I felt Mingi’s large hands wrap around my waist, firmly gripping me. I froze, unblinking and unbreathing as I waited for his next move, which to my surprise, was to yank the corset apart, strings coming undone, slipping from their bindings. My eyes widened a little and I quickly stood up straight again, confused as to why I was disappointed that Mingi no longer held onto me. I felt Mingi slipping the corset upwards and I raised my arms, accustomed to this due to my maid always helping me, and allowed Mingi to take the corset off. I whirled around, about to thank him and act like nothing had happened, but the look on Mingi’s face was startling for a second. His own cheeks seemed to be flushed and he was biting his lower lip, eyebrows slightly furrowed and eyes darker than their usual color, pupils blown wide. I gulped as I looked at him, pondering my next move as I reached for the corset, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as Mingi released the fabric. He didn’t say anything and I felt myself mesmerized, unable to move quite yet as Mingi reached forward, fingers lightly tangling at my sides into the silk fabric of the short gown. The thin strap had slipped off my left shoulder, and as Mingi’s eyes racked over all the skin exposed to him, I finally realized I was standing almost as good as naked in front of him. My eyes widened and I took a big step back, averting my eyes as Mingi coughed, rubbing his nose before his fingers tangled into his hair, undoing his manbun. His hair was messy, but he looked off to the side as he quickly retied the messy bun, caused by me, and cleared his throat.

“Uh, finish up quickly.” He sounded almost breathless as he swiftly turned, offering me privacy once again. I hummed and nodded even if he didn’t see me, settling into motion quickly. I threw the corset onto the bed and grabbed his white shirt, pulling it over my shoulders and almost chuckled at how big it was on me. But I quickly started buttoning it up, making sure that my chest was covered well as I stopped at the last button underneath my chin. The shirt was as long as my gown, they both reached mid-thigh. I grabbed the pants and gave them a distasteful look before slipping my legs into each pant leg, the feeling foreign as my exposed legs were instantly wrapped up in warmth, the feeling not as repulsive as I had imagined it to be. I tucked in the shirt and glared at the end of the pants, pooling around my feet. Despite not being short myself, Mingi was too tall for me to comfortably wear his clothes, but I did appreciate it…even if he probably thought I didn’t. I watched the front of the pants in confusion, wondering if the lace was to lace them up like a corset.

“Uh, how do I lace this up?” I asked in confusion, making Mingi turn around, looking just as confused. His face flashed with amusement as he caught onto what I meant, and he walked close again, a small amused smile on his lips.

“Yeah, like this.” My skin tingled when our fingers brushed against each other and my cheeks instantly flushed, I was glad Mingi was focused on the lace and not my face. He pulled tightly, and I gasped as I was yanked towards him, having to steady myself on his broad shoulders, making Mingi chuckle as he cast me a quick glance. Lacing up these pants was a lot easier and quicker as I watched Mingi demonstrate it, something I would be able to do on my own too from now on. When he was done he patted my waist twice, and I tried to keep my eyes off his face as my heart lurched at the action again, stepping back and crouching down to fix the problem at my feet as I rolled the pants up. Mingi watched me with amusement written all over his face.

“You’re a dwarf.” I heard him say with a short laugh, making me roll my eyes.

“No, you’re a giant.” I said as I stood up straight, hands on my hips, “So, do I look okay? I assume you don’t have a mirror here, so you’ll have to tell me yourself.”

Mingi’s eyes ran up and down my body, taking me in, and I found myself blushing again, but his words were quick to chase away the fluster I felt, “Nah, you’re hideous. Don’t worry, at least the sirens won’t want you.”

“Sirens?” I asked with a pout, eyebrows furrowing, “I thought only mermaids existed.”

“Oh, Jongho will be elated to talk to someone about all of that, come.” And before I could even put up a fight that I didn’t want this Jongho guy talking to me, Mingi was pulling me after himself, fingers intertwining with mine once again.

Three days have passed since I was taken hostage, and my papa still hadn’t paid up. Did he not love me anymore because I misbehaved and left the ball without his permission? Did he not love his little daughter enough to bring her back to the safety of his mansion? Was Mingi asking for too much? No, that couldn’t have been the case, we are rich. My father could pay however much Mingi asked in exchange for me, so that couldn’t have been it. But if that was true, why was I still here? It made me huff desperately as I twirled the golden coin between my fingers, looking at it intently. These past three days had been quite horrible. There was nothing I could do on this ship, everyone was rude, dirty, and quite smelly. They did the same things every single day, and refused to let me join them, throwing insults such like, ‘I was a spoiled brat who never shut up’ or that ‘I was rude and had no manners’. Those words were bold as they were coming from some nasty old pirates. The only acceptable man on this wrenched ship seemed to be that Jongho guy, who happened to be fascinated with folklore, and seemed rather eager to tell me everything he knew about it. I wasn’t quite interested per se of what he had to say most of times, but it took my mind off the pressing issues at hand. That being that I was bored out of my mind, and that I hadn’t had a normal milk bath in four days, and that the salty air had cracked my skin, drying it out. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the sad of an excuse of a bathroom they had on this ship, I jumped, and once even almost cried, barely believing that my beautiful skin was now burnt around my nose due to the harsh sun I got exposed to daily when I was up on deck. I wasn’t doing well; my thoughts were turning grim as well. I just wanted to be back at my mansion, surrounded by the cool air, the spacious rooms, my books, the nice perfumes wafting through the rooms, the beautiful garden, and my father. I couldn’t live like this anymore. I was supposed to be pampered, not mocked, insulted, and ignored.

And Mingi was making the whole experience even worse, annoying me at any given chance, playing with me, and taunting me. Yesterday, he refused to let me have lunch, stating that ‘I had misbehaved that morning, and now I was being punished for it’. If it weren’t for Taeri, the red-haired girl, then Mingi would’ve locked me in his room, leaving me banging on the door and screaming after him. Despite not liking most of the pirates on this pathetic excuse of a ship, Taeri seemed to be quite enjoyable. She was soft spoken and very nurturing, and she checked in on me every morning, making sure that Mingi didn’t make me uncomfortable. I found that rather generous of her, and quickly begged her to let me be her roommate for as long as I had to stay on this ship, but she nicely let me down, telling me that she was, unfortunately, already sharing a room with Yunho. I found that rather peculiar, but after close observation of the two, I came to the realization that they were in love. I have never felt that emotion, but based on all the books I have read, their romance looked exactly the same like in those beautiful stories. Their eyes were filled with warmth, and Yunho would never stop smiling when Taeri was next to him, and I didn’t fail to notice how protective he was of her as well. Perhaps I was jealous that Taeri managed to find her lover, meanwhile me, a very desirable woman was still waiting for her prince. It was rather sad, but I decided not to dwell more on it while I was on this pirate ship, I would find my prince surely once I get back to my old life.

Currently, Mingi and I were crammed up in his small and ugly room, a floorboard near his bed cracked in, which I have discovered two days ago with disdain as my foot went through the hole, ankle almost getting stuck as I screeched for Mingi to get it out, fearful of all the insects and rats that would touch my skin. But Mingi, like the asshat he was, just stood laughing and making fun of me, walking closer, and mocking me until I broke down in tears, making his eyes widen as he finally crouched down and gingerly pulled my leg out of the hole, muttering something about me being overly dramatic before he left the room, offering me time to change into day wear clothes. I was lucky with Taeri being here, her clothes were almost a perfect fit as she was nice enough to borrow me one of her leather pants and two shirts. However, Mingi refused to let me wear Taeri’s shirts, and hid them on top of his closet, where I couldn’t reach them. He was a menace and he loved tormenting me, so deciding to turn this against him, ignoring every particle in my body screaming at me to act like the lady I was, I went ahead and unbuttoned the top buttons of Mingi’s shirt each morning, leaving my cleavage exposed, the silky gown the only clothing item that covered my breasts. The first time Mingi saw me, he turned red like a tomato, and spluttered on about me being inappropriate as he marched up to me and quickly buttoned the shirt up, giving me a warning look to keep it that way while we were up on deck. But, of course, I didn’t listen to him, and to my utmost disgust, I had a slimy pirate grabbing after me, spluttering disgusting things in my face about my body and what he was going to do to me, until I raised my fist up high and connected it against his wrinkly nose, hearing a loud crack. Mingi was by our side in a moment, reprimanding me for my actions, up until I told him why I had done what I had done, shocked to find Mingi throwing another punch at the old pirate, blood flowing down his face after the second blow to his nose. The Captain had rudely called for us to stop and scramble off, calling for a man named Yeosang, apparently the crew’s doctor. And if I thought today I would have a normal day while Mingi dragged me up on deck in the morning after the both of us got changed, I was extremely wrong. I had pulled my hair in a low bun and was watching Yunho and Taeri spare, eyes following their moves curiously, wondering what it felt like holding a sword. Mingi had abandoned me, apparently having to help Yeosang in carrying some heavy barrels from some chamber under deck, up on deck, both of them sweaty by the time they got up. I was sitting on a barrel, playing with a golden coin I had borrowed from Jongho last night at dinner while he was too busy showing me the drawings of this one supposed Siren that he had met. It was rather hard to believe, I had thought the man was simply crazy, but Seonghwa was there to confirm, that they indeed have captured a Siren not too long ago, but due to some issues with another pirate crew, the Siren escaped.

I had sighed loudly, the wind carrying it away, as my eyes fixated longingly on the shore, which seemed to be even more far away than it was when I had arrived on this ship. Jongho had said that the Navy’s fleet had been scouting the waters, having a hunch that perhaps I had been kidnaped by the pirates, so we had to sail out a little bit further, where they wouldn’t find us. The thought was disheartening, knowing that Lieutenant Kim wouldn’t be able to save me. I had quite quickly grown bored of watching Yunho and Taeri spare, so I jumped off the barrel, and walked towards an opened chest, finding it filled with different sized weapons, some big shotguns in it as well. I leaned over and brushed my fingers against the sharp blade, gripping the handle of the dagger curiously, dropping it in exchange to hold onto the end of a shotgun. I had seen weapons before, my father would hunt every now and then, but I was never allowed to hold one. As my curiosity got the better of me, and nobody was actually paying attention to me, I took the shotgun in my hands and straightened up, surprised by its actual weight. I pursed my lips as I raised it up, narrowing my eyes as I continued to inspect the shotgun, noticing that it was covered in gunpowder. I suddenly realized that Mingi smelled the same, and it made me wonder why that was. Could he be the one who wielded these shotguns? But before I could dwell more on that thought, firm arms suddenly wrapped around my middle, pulling me into a sturdy body, and I gasped loudly as I almost dropped the shotgun.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Mingi’s deep voice whispered into my ear, his lips brushing against the skin just barely, “Might have to up the sum for daddy dearest.”

My heart was beating like crazy, hands slightly shaking from the fright he had given me, but also from the sudden proximity, and body pressing into mine. Mingi didn’t seem to be too bothered by the lack of space between us, and I cleared my throat, hands tightening around the shotgun.

“Maybe I should try and see how this weapon works,” I smirked, turning my head to look up at Mingi, “I choose you to be my target.”

Mingi chuckled, lips pulling into a dashing smile, and for a second I forgot how to breathe. His once long blonde hair was now extremely short and spikey, sticking up in all directions. Two days ago, it came quite as a shock seeing him before dinner as he had walked inside our shared room, muttering about how he didn’t want to risk getting his hair pulled like I had done, therefore, he got rid of his long locks. At first I had thought he was crazy for cutting his beautiful, soft, long hair, but one day later, I realized maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. His already sharp features were even more highlighted now, eyes appearing sharper, his cheekbones high and well-defined, certainly attention grabbing, and his jawline chiseled. It also made his tall nose stand out more, the little mole underneath his eye and close to his jawline only adding to his charm.

“Hmm, I thought you were my target, princess.” Mingi muttered, eyebrows raising as he snapped me out of my thoughts, suddenly aware of how badly my face was burning. And it wasn’t from the sun.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “I’m hardly a target, love, I could fight you anytime. I thought you had seen how I punched that old fool.”

“Yeah,” Mingi smirked, raising an eyebrow as his arms tightened around my middle, making my breath hitch, “But that’s an old man, not a young one full with strength and life. Just because I let you have your way around, doesn’t mean I’m weaker than you—or that you can overpower me, darling. It’s quite the opposite, actually.”

As I opened my mouth to retort back, I was suddenly very forcefully pushed forward as Mingi veered me slightly to the side so the chest wouldn’t be in the way, and suddenly, I was caged in between the railing and Mingi’s body. My hips dug into the sturdy wood harshly, making me groan as one of Mingi’s hands slowly slipped up my torso, grabbing my jaw harshly. I hissed and tried to yank my head free, but I couldn’t as Mingi wasn’t budging. My heart beat frantically as my grip on the shotgun tightened, trying to focus on what was happening. On what Minig’s real intention was by doing this, trying to find a way out.

“Cat got your tongue now, Y/N?” Mingi whispered, voice low and close to my ear, rather sinister. I gulped, but remained silent, refusing to back down, “I could overthrow you without even lifting a finger, precious, and you wouldn’t even be able to scream for help.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to do just that, knowing that Taeri was still on deck, but suddenly the hand holding my jaw tightly slipped to my neck and Mingi’s fingers covered by rings suddenly curled around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my body tense as my air was cut off. I started to panic as Mingi just chuckled and watched me struggle against him, his eyes glued to the side of my face. I gripped his left arm with my hand and dug my nails into his skin, hopeful that it would make him release me, but he just chuckled and applied more pressure to my throat, making my eyes widen as I realized I was slowly starting to choke. Caged in, unable to push him off or even move away, I realized I had to find another way to break free. But my brain was losing air and my body had started shaking, I didn’t know what to do. I could only hope someone would notice and finally stop him, but it seemed like nobody cared. Not even Taeri, so, I had to save myself again. And so, as a last-minute desperate thought, I raised my left leg high and brought it down hard on Mingi’s foot, hopefully cracking his toes. He let out a loud howl, instantly releasing me and stepping back, making me double over as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, heartbeat fast and skin burning. I threw the shotgun on the floor and gripped the railing hard, feeling tears spring to my eyes. The audacity this stupid pirate had, made me beyond furious.

“You might be stronger,” I hissed as I turned to glare at Mingi, “But I’m smarter, you asshat!”

And with that, I had stormed off, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tried to calm my breathing and reassure myself that nothing actually has happened to me, that Mingi was being an idiot and was only trying to piss me off, which he had succeeded in doing. So, hours later, he was paying for it. I hadn’t spoken to him since that incident this morning, and after he finished whatever stupid duties he had on this stupid ship, he had come down to his room. He had paused in the doorway when he saw me sitting at his desk, feet up as I sat low in his chair, playing with the borrowed coin from Jongho. Mingi said nothing, but his eyes slightly narrowed as he walked further inside, coming closer. Despite my heartbeat picking up again, I ignored him, slightly surprised that he left me alone for once. He grabbed a book and very loudly jumped towards his bed, groaning as his large body got tangled in the sheets smelling like vanilla. I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes, and found him leaned against the wall, feet dangling off his bed as he had opened the book, lips sucked in as his eyebrows furrowed. He wore a black tank top today, his muscular biceps on display, a shiny golden forearm bracelet hugging his left bicep tightly. It was a sight that threw me off guard, only to realize that I quite liked the visual it offered. Mingi’s narrow waist was once again highlighted by the thick leather belt tied around it, the black tank top tucked inside his matching leather pants. He had a pearl necklace at the base of his neck, hugging the skin tightly, and another longer one that reached between his pecks with a moonstone as a pendant.

I smirked, an ingenious thought forming in my mind, serving as revenge for what he had done to me this morning. I pushed the chair a little bit further back, making it screech deliciously against the wooden floorboard, quickly averting my eyes when Mingi glanced my way over his book. I crossed my legs over one another as I relocated them towards the edge of the desk, sighing loudly as I slipped down lower in the chair. I flipped the golden coin between my fingers, tapping my nails against it occasionally. I checked to see Mingi’s reaction, but he seemed unbothered so far, so I smirked, and let out another sigh, louder this time. I licked my lips and groaned as I threw my head back, pouting in the process, staring out the small round window. I felt eyes on me for a second, but I ignored Mingi as I continued with another loud sigh. Then, I paused, making sure he was reading again before I started tapping the desk with the heel of my right leg, hitting the edge of it just the way I had wanted. I chose a steady rhythm for it, sighing every so often, putting the next step of my plan into action.

“What is my papa up to right now…” I muttered with a pout, “I wonder why he hadn’t paid up yet…”

I sighed loudly again, hitting the desk rather harshly, the sound louder. There was the flip of the page, Mingi didn’t react—yet, “Is there possibly something wrong?”

I hit my heel against the desk again, “Did something happen to my papa as well? I wouldn’t be surprised if these ugly and stupid pirates somehow got to him too…”

I heard Mingi shuffling on the bed before he cleared his throat, but I just continued acting oblivious as I was pouting, still staring out the window, “Or what if he never got the letter…oh, no…I’m stuck here forever!”

I started sniffing, making quiet crying sounds as Mingi cleared his throat again, eyes set on me with a glare. But it didn’t faze me as I quickly shook my head, taking a deep breath, my heel coming down against the desk rather harshly, “What if…what if he doesn’t love me enough to save me?!”

I sniffed loudly, tapping my leg against the desk louder and more frequently, stare boring into the coin in my hand as Mingi huffed loudly, but didn’t speak up just yet. Fine, then I would try this in a different way, “God, I’ll never see Lieutenant Kim ever again! How I wish I never turned him down! Then I wouldn’t be in this God-awful place, rotting away, my beauty hidden from the world…”

There was a scoff but as my eyes snapped to Mingi, he was looking at his book, his mouth pulled into a sneer. I smirked, tapping the desk lighter now, eyes boring into Mingi’s handsome face, “Oh, the luxuries he had promised me. I should have said yes, he is the perfect match for me. He cares for me so deeply! He would’ve done anything for me—I wouldn’t even be here now with this—irritating, smelly, ugly, and dumb pirate, who’s room is falling apart and smells like rotten fish.”

Mingi’s jaw locked as he licked his lips, eyes narrowing as they quickly snapped up, making me avert mine as I sighed dreamily, eyebrows in a frown. The boat was rocking rather softly today, the waves not as harsh as yesterday, “Oh, and this terrible ship is so awful! Every day I get more and more homesick. I wish that my papa would just—ow!”

I yelped loudly as something hard hit my head, making me bolt up from the chair, eyes wide as I whipped my head around to look at Mingi. He was glaring at me as he had his arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging.

“Just shut up, Y/N, heavens, I can’t listen to your annoying voice for any longer!” He hissed; voice irritated as he glared daggers at me. My disdain turned into amusement as I leaned my hip against his desk, smirking at him.

“Oh, poor little Mingi, bothered by a fragile woman who can’t even defend herself.” I mocked him, pushing my lower lip out in a fake pout, “God forbid he can’t read his stupid fairytale book, or else he’ll turn into a whiney toddler—”

“I’m one fucking second away of gagging you, Y/N.” Mingi hissed, pushing himself off the wall. I rolled my eyes with a snort.

“Your threats had been all empty so far, love.” I smirked, flipping through his book lazily, “You’ll have to do more if you want to scare me into silence.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mingi’s voice dropped and my eyes snapped to him when I heard the bed creaking, slightly widening at the annoyance clear on his face. As he went to stand up, I panicked and did the first thing that came to mind, threw his book at his face. Mingi barely dodged it, eyes widening as he looked offended.

“Hey! Stop throwing my books at me!” He exclaimed, glaring at me as I stormed up to him, towering over his sitting form.

“You started it now!” I hissed and reached around him, grabbing the book off the bed to hit him over the head. Mingi gasped and tried to shield his head at my continuous attacks, making me smirk when he couldn’t swat at my hand to make me stop. It was rather amusing, watching the tall ‘scary’ pirate trying to get away from a smaller woman, but unable to do so. I started laughing as Mingi whined loudly, leaning backwards and moving his torso in funny ways to escape me.

“Stop it!” But I didn’t care to listen to him as I continued laughing, finding the situation amusing, until I felt something soft hitting my side forcefully. I gasped, eyes going wide as I froze, staring down at Mingi. I had placed one knee up on the bed to be able to reach his retreating form, and now it was Mingi smirking at me as he held his pillow in his hands, raising it overhead to hit me with it. The impact left me huffing loudly as I dropped the book on the floor and dived for the only other pillow before Mingi could get his hands on it too and leave me defenseless, twisting my body so that I could hit him with it. It made contact with his face and Mingi groaned as I started giggling, hitting him some more as I got on the bed on both of my knees, amused that Mingi couldn’t hit back as he had to recoil from my constant pillow attacks. But then, he was suddenly straightening up and throwing a menacing glare at me, which made me laugh harder, as he started hitting my side again. My stomach started hurting from laughing too much, but I couldn’t stop as Mingi continued to whine and ask me to stop while I continued hitting his back with the pillow. He wasn’t even getting hurt, so I didn’t understand why he was so whiney about it. It was fun.

He released the pillow with one hand and tried to grab at my waist, but I kept hitting his arm with my pillow, making him huff and puff in irritation. Then suddenly, he threw his pillow to the ground, and as I smirked in victory and raised my arms to hit him over the head with my own, he lunged forward, making me yelp as his body crashed into mine. I dropped the pillow and wrapped my arms around his neck as I felt us falling backwards on his bed, my back hitting the soft sheets soon enough. My chest was raising and falling rapidly, and so was Mingi’s, as his breath hit the side of my neck, sending me into another set of giggles as I stared up at the ceiling amused. Mingi’s hands gripped my waist firmly, his weight crushing me as his lean body melted into mine. My legs fell open on both sides of his hips, and as my giggles finally stopped, I could hear Mingi snickering as well, his warmth engulfing mine, and making my cheeks burn once I realized the position we were in. I had never had a man all over myself, certainly not while lying in bed, with him nestled between my legs and almost laughing into my ear. The scent of vanilla mixed with gunpowder was strong, and I sniffed quietly, unconsciously taking a deeper whiff of Mingi’s familiar scent. I gulped loudly, arms tightening around Mingi’s neck for a second before I slowly withdrew my arms, hands dragging against the skin of his neck. I felt the silver clasp of his pearl choker before my hands continued on tracing his shoulders, until the fell on both sides of my head. Mingi slowly pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as his eyes ran over my face. I gulped again, my stomach flipping weirdly as Mingi shuffled a little, his lower half pressing into mine, making me gasp quietly as Mingi’s eyes bore into mine. I licked my lips, watching as Mingi’s eyes dropped onto them, his own mouth slightly opening as his breathing got heavier. My eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lower lip, head very slowly lowering as he glanced back up in my eyes, my heart beating so fast I could feel it in my neck. But as his hot breath hit my face, I realized that whatever we were doing was unethical and would ruin my purity surely, so I acted on impulse. My left hand raised and I opened my fist, dangling Mingi’s pearl choker between our faces. He suddenly froze, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the choker bewildered before looking back down at me, a questioning look on his face.

“What?” He muttered quietly, touching his neck with his left hand lightly, as if to make sure that I did indeed take his pearl necklace without him noticing. I chuckled as I smiled at him cheekily, just shrugging as I played with the necklace, admiring it for a second. But my amusement was quickly gone as Mingi gave me a long stare, a smirk slowly blooming on his face as he raised his left hand, a golden hairpin clear as day in his hand. My mouth dropped open as I stared at it, raising my hand to touch my, now nonexistent, bun. When did he pull it out of my hair? And how? Nobody could get it out of my hair without pulling on the strands painfully, not even Soojin or Soyeon.

“How?” I whispered impressed, making Mingi shrug as he smirked proudly.

“I have my ways.” He winked, and then suddenly pushed himself off me, dropping the hairpin on my stomach. He cleared his throat as he got to his feet, ruffling his spikey blonde hair before patting his clothes down, extending his hand out towards me. I placed the necklace in his hand and watched as he quickly clasped it back around his neck.

“I’ll go help Yunho now, don’t wander around, San isn’t in a good mood today.” Mingi instructed as I sat up, twirling the hairpin in my hands.

“Who’s San?” I asked confused, and Mingi paused in the doorway.

“He’s…not someone you want to meet, so, please, stay here.” His tone was the most serious I had heard him use, and I nodded in understanding, “I’ll send Taeri to entertain you.”

“Thank you.” I flashed him a small smile, and he was out the door, leaving me with a frantic beating heart, and a hotness all over my body that I had never felt before. What was Song Mingi doing to me?

It would seem like today wasn’t out day. Arguments would ensue too often throughout the day, and I could only blame Mingi for it as he always found something to bother me with. If the pathetic scare he tried giving me this morning wasn’t enough, he had went off on a rant right before dinner that I was taking up all of his space, and barely offered him any privacy. He also accused me of stealing a few of his precious jewelry, which I had not done as I had zero wishes to steal anything that belonged to this dumb pirate. And despite seeing said jewelry around Yunho’s wrist and neck during dinner, Mingi made no effort to apologize to me for the accusations he’s made earlier. And if that wasn’t enough to put me in a bad mood, certainly him telling this other girl on the ship, Jung Hana, that I was a nuisance and stuck-up brat, so she shouldn’t even bother talking to me, set me off as I had slammed the silver folk down on the table, whipping my head around as I flashed Mingi a deep glare.

“Would you stop trying to veer everyone away from me?!” I had snapped, voice high pitched, “Maybe I’m not the problem here, Mingi, but you.”

Mingi had snorted, spoon in his mouth as he had taken a bite of his dinner, “Sure, there’s no possible way that a spoiled princess is the problem instead of a humble pirate, who’s trying to simply live his life—”

“A rather pathetic excuse of a life.” I cut him off, unaware of the eyes on the two of us, “And you’re far from being humble, Song Mingi. You always try to bring me down, but you fail to realize that you’re just as horrible, arrogant, and annoying as I am, you asshat. Telling Yeosang yesterday that despite being a doctor for so many years he was quite shit at stitching people up, berating Jongho for having his head in the clouds instead of taking his duties more seriously, laughing at Taeri when she failed to lift that horribly heavy chest filled with weapons, and even telling your own Captain that his decision making had been questionable lately, are certainly out of good intention, right, Mingi? And not because you’re just an arrogant man who thinks highly of himself, certainly not looking down on the people around him?”

Mingi’s jaw had clenched as he gripped the spoon tighter in his hand, knuckles whitening, “You know nothing about me, and I advise you shut up if you don’t want to become shark dinner.”

“Oh, spare me, Mingi.” I hissed, nose flaring, “Unless you mean what you say, stop wasting everyone’s air.”

“Get up!” Mingi’s voice was suddenly deep as it boomed around us, making a few pirates flinch as they weren’t bothered enough to watch the exchange between the two of us, “Get the fuck up, right now!”

“You will not tell me what to do, you filthy—” I gasped as Mingi grabbed my bicep and yanked me up to my feet harshly, making my eyes widen. I pulled on my arm, but his grip tightened as he tried to make me step over the bench we had been sitting on, but I wouldn’t budge as I held onto the table. Somebody cleared their throat, but my eyes were set on Mingi only, my face red from anger as my heart started racing. His eyes had significantly darkened, and his breathing was heavy, eyes narrow slits. Gone was the playful and arrogant Mingi, instead a frightening man stood in his place, probably finally ready to throw me overboard as he had reached his limit.

“And you will learn your lesson tonight, princess.” Mingi hissed, making me tumble almost to the floor as he pulled on my arm harshly, forcing me to step over the bench.

“Song Mingi.” It was clear who’s voice it was, Yunho sounded slightly concerned, “Stop.”

But neither Mingi nor I were paying attention to anyone but the other, “Do you think I don’t hate this as much as you do, Mingi? You ripped me away from my life and forced me to live on this—ship filled with pirates, who would love to do bad things to me—and you expect me to just listen to you and respect you?”

“Have I given you any reasons not to?!” Mingi’s voice raised as he closed the gap between our bodies, his hot breath fanning against my face, “Have I treated you like any of those pirates? Haven’t I been looking out for you?! Haven’t I been keeping you safe?”

“You kidnapped me!” I screamed and tried to push him away, but he didn’t even flinch.

“For your money!” Mingi screamed back, “I demanded nothing else of you when I could’ve! I could’ve done horrible things to you, and I didn’t.”

“And do you want me to bow down, and thank you for that?” I scoffed, sneering at him, “You want me to thank you for acting like a human being with me?”

“Yes, you could fix your attitude starting there.” Mingi snapped, and I bit my lip in frustration, uncomfortable now that I realized everyone was watching us, gaping at us. I didn’t want to do this anymore; I don’t even understand why we had to snap at each other every single time a little inconvenience happened.

“Excuse me if my papa failed to teach me how to apologize, because I will be not apologizing to you when you only insult me all the time.” I tried to yank my arm free again, but Mingi still wasn’t budging. His eyebrows furrowed and he leaned down, looking me in the eyes.

“When have I insulted you?” He chuckled, and I released a deep breath to try and stay level headed.

“Just right now?” I asked with a disbelieving laugh, “You think that I’m stupid and good for nothing, that I don’t respect people, and only use them when I need something from them. You keep saying I’m stuck up and look down on anyone who’s bellow my status—when have I treated you like that?”

“Don’t tell me when you saw me at that stupid ball you didn’t only want to approach me because you thought I was rich?” Mingi scoffed, rolling his eyes as I bit my lower lip, heart hammering in my chest.

“I didn’t—it was one of the factors, but not the main one—” My thoughts were running a mile per hour. Mingi was right, in some way, but he also didn’t know everything. He couldn’t possibly have realized that I stopped caring whether he was rich or not.

“What’s the main one then, huh?” Mingi snapped, cutting me off as I averted my eyes to the floor, cheeks flushing. I didn’t want to say it, not in front of everyone. I was embarrassed, but Mingi’s fingers only tightened around my bicep, and I sighed, swallowing my pride for the first time in my life.

“The same reason for why I trusted you since the moment you made that creepy man go away at the pub. Because you made me feel safe, because despite not knowing me, you looked out for me. Because you never once tried to approach me at the ball, unlike every other desperate man there, and you didn’t even want to stick around at the pub. I know—I know it was probably part of your stupid scheme, but if you wouldn’t have been gentle and nice to me, I would’ve never allowed you to hold me like that while I was drunk and out of it.” I took a deep breath as I felt Mingi’s grip loosen significantly, “The same reason as to why I didn’t throw a tantrum when you wouldn’t sleep on the floor, when you refused to put pillows between us while sleeping. For the same bloody reason, Mingi, why I asked for your help with my corset when I could’ve easily asked Taeri.”

I let out a shuddered breath, feeling Mingi’s hand slowly slip down my arm, covering my skin in goosebumps in its wake, lips slightly trembling from the embarrassment I felt admitting all of that without an ounce of privacy, “I can’t help it that I was raised like this. I can’t help but look at my maids and feel little compassion for them because serving me is their job. And I know I’m mean and vile to them, but I care for them. I always did. They’ve been there for me when nobody else was. I never had friends because my father wouldn’t allow me, but Soyeon and Soojin were there, they played with me and cheered me up. I know I’m horrible, but I always showered them with gifts, and anything that I didn’t need anymore.

“I can’t help the fact that when I look at you I see a simple man, hard-working, but just barely making it through each day, when my father raised me to be able to pinpoint the differences between a poor and a rich man. It’s not my fault that the first thing I look at are your clothing, shoes, and jewelry, to determine your wealth. It’s not my fault that my governess taught me etiquette, and that I was reprimanded every time I would slouch, laugh loudly, or even as little as mumble my words. I never had a mother, she died while giving birth to me. I can’t help the fact that I cling onto whoever gives me even a little bit of affection and care. I was never allowed to do what I wanted; I was never allowed to explore. I’m locked up in my mansion all day, listening to my father and his disgusting old friends, wondering when a prince would finally find me and whisk me away. I’m sorry if you think I’ve been a…bitch to you, but I do not know how to act when I’m around people like you. I only see hierarchy. and the filth that surrounds me here.”

I fell silent for a second, taking a deep breath as Mingi watched me stunned, gripping my wrist almost as if afraid that I would disappear. The silence that stretched on was awkward, even when Seonghwa softly whispered my name from the table, “But it doesn’t mean I’m not open to learning. To forgetting all the prejudice I was raised with. To letting go of society’s norms, to find myself and learn who I really am underneath all the lavish and puff, the huge dresses, and fake tea parties. I was willing to learn, Mingi, but you never gave me a chance. You just…assumed I’m a stupid, stuck-up bitch, and went with it, never failing to remind me of it. You never saw how curiously I watched you each time you were working, discussing the guns with Seonghwa and your Captain. You never paid enough attention to notice the longing stares I would give Yunho and Taeri whenever they were sparring, wanting to learn as well. And you never looked long enough to see the smile on my face each time I would spot my favorite book on your desk, fingers tracing the title, fondly remembering the time I had snuck the book out of my father’s library to read it overnight, getting punished for it the next day because I had taken something from the forbidden section.”

“Y/N…” Mingi sounded breathless as I stepped back, suddenly aware that tears were rolling down my cheeks, even more embarrassed when I glanced towards the table. Hana was cuddled up into Yeosang, who looked sorry, Seonghwa and Taeri mirroring his expression. Hongjoong was eating, looking rather irritated by the commotion, but I didn’t miss the exasperated glare he sent at Mingi. Yunho was glaring at his best friend, arms crossed in front of his chest as he shook his head, and Jongho looked mad as he was glaring at Mingi. I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the rest of the pirates I didn’t know as most seemed amused as I quickly wiped my tears and looked at Seonghwa.

“I’m sorry, my appetite is gone.” I muttered, stepping back from Mingi, and giving him a look when he tried to grab me again, “But dinner was delicious, even better than the one’s at home usually are.”

Seonghwa smiled warmly, nodding his head once, “Wooyoung is our original cook, but he’s still got some weeks until he returns to us. It’s a pity you won’t get to meet him.”

“Yeah, a pity.” I sighed, not knowing whether I was happy or not about it, “I wish you all a good evening, I hope I hadn’t ruined your evening.”

“Y/N!” Mingi called out as I turned and stormed off, almost running into a man out in the hallway as he was about to step inside the kitchen. His already sharp eyes narrowed and I furrowed my eyebrows, my skin covered in chills due to the dangerous smirk on his lips. His eyes traveled over my body and he chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you a treat, princess?” His voice was smooth and as he attempted to step towards me, I held a hand out.

“You must be San, then.” I recalled Mingi advising me to stay away from him, something about him being really dangerous.

“Oh,” He chuckled, making me tense up as he licked his red lips, “and who are you?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, glaring at him when he tried to step closer again, “I’m here with Mingi, either way.”

A defeated look crossed his face for a second, before he hummed, “What a pity, you would’ve made us a lot of money.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I took a step back, unsettled by his words just as much as I was confused, “Of course Mingi would pick you, a noble just like him, but even richer. I bet his mother would be elated if he returned home with you, all of his sins forgotten.”

“Good night.” I snapped, feeling uncomfortable as I didn’t want to find out about who Mingi was by someone else. I wanted him to tell me about himself, but after the argument, I was sure he’d ignore me until my father finally pays up. I stormed off towards Mingi’s room, not waiting for San to say anything else, weirded out by his whole aura and the hunger in his eyes as he watched me.

And the evening passed by fast after that, I had changed into my night gown, borrowed from Hana, and laid in bed, contemplating over everything that’s happened to me so far. I really wanted to go home and forget everything that’s happened, ready to close this chapter and leave it behind me. Perhaps there was a moment when I had considered Mingi to be the prince I have been longing for, but after tonight, I have concluded that the two of us didn’t belong together. We are too different, too prideful and stubborn to ever admit to our faults, to even try to fix our damaged…friendship? I didn’t know what to consider ourselves, but Mingi was the closest thing to a friend I could ever have, with Taeri, and perhaps, Jongho as well. I had been laying in the dark, on my back, when the door opened and Mingi’s tall frame walked further inside the room, closing the door carefully. The floorboards were old and creaky, yet I could hear him being careful as he shuffled towards his closet, taking a peek at me. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, to which Mingi moved even more carefully as he opened his old closet door, gasping when it almost moved off its hinges again. I carefully opened an eye, taking a peek in Mingi’s direction. He had his back to me and both of my eyes snapped open as pulled his black tank top off his body, his broad back exposed to my eyes. My face flushed as I watched him change, until I realized he might want me to offer him some privacy, prompting myself to squeeze my eyes shut. I stopped breathing when I heard him moving around again, only to feel the bed dip next to my body. Mingi’s room was small, and so, his bed wasn’t very spacious for two people, but we somehow made it work to stay far away from each other when sleeping. The blanket shifted for a second and I felt Mingi slip in underneath, softly releasing the breath I had been holding as I shifted, turning my back to him. Mingi sniffed once and didn’t bother to speak up, so I forced myself to keep my eyes shut and just fall asleep. The quicker the next day comes, the better.

But it was easier said than done when my mind was reeling with thoughts, forbidding me from sleeping. I bit my lower lip as I shifted for the nth time, facing Mingi, but never opening my eyes to see him. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t want to actively acknowledge it. I was embarrassed by the scene we had caused in the kitchen, and especially for saying those things to him in front of everyone. That wasn’t how I wanted to pour my heart out to him, to admit that I had started feeling something for him. I couldn’t define what it was, but it was something. And it made me hope that I would be able to leave this place soon, scared that I would fall for the pirate. Nobody’s ever treated me as humanly as him before, teaching me that I wasn’t as special as I once had believed. Perhaps I was privileged, and I had failed to notice that. With a quiet sigh, I turned back onto my back, the old mattress shifting with my movements as a low groan came from Mingi. I almost opened my eyes, but instead decided that now I would fall asleep—except that suddenly there was movement next to me, and suddenly a weight was pressing me down into the bed, making my eyes snap open as Mingi grabbed my arms and pressed them on each side of my head, grip firm. I gaped up at him as he sat on my hips, eyebrows deeply furrowed. It was dark in the room, but the moonlight shone through the little round window, falling on Mingi. The shadows falling on his face made him even more intimidating, and I came to the startling realization, that Mingi’s shirt was completely undone, his torso exposed. Before I could stop myself, my eyes glazed over his well-defined body, toned chest and firm stomach, cheeks flushing as I looked back up in his eyes, throat dry all of a sudden.

“Stop moving so much, I can’t sleep.” Mingi snapped quietly, eyebrows furrowing.

“I can’t sleep.” I muttered, frowning back at him, “Is it necessary to pin me down, Mingi?”

“Well—” He seemed to realize what he had done, cheeks turning darker instantly, but he made no effort to move, “Will you stop, then?”

“Once I fall asleep—”

“I’ll kick you out.” Mingi quickly cut me off, making me roll my eyes. My heartbeat was steadily quickening, a warm feeling overtaking my whole body once again the longer Mingi sat on top of me.

“Kick me out, then, I’ll go sleep in Seonghwa’s room or something.” I scoffed, adding quietly, “Maybe even Jongho’s.”

“No.” Mingi’s tone was serious and his hands slightly tightened around my arms, making me raise an eyebrow at him, “I mean, no, you don’t have to do that when you can sleep here…with me.”

“Not if you kick me out.” I muttered, body softening under Mingi. He gulped and paused for a second, sitting back on his heels as he slowly released my arms, my fingers brushing against his with a small smile. My face was burning, but so was his, so I didn’t pay it much attention. He must feel flustered as well, then.

“I won’t kick you out.” Mingi whispered, looking off to the side. My smile widened as my fingers firmly grasped the sturdy object in my hand now, feeling around the silver ring. It was warm, due to Mingi wearing it all day long, and it was almost a little crooked, as if Mingi had been wearing it for a long time now. I raised my hand and looked at it, but held it in a way Mingi couldn’t see it. My movement caught his attention and he looked back at me, eyebrows slightly furrowing as he pouted, turning his head to try and see what was in my hand.

“Did you know I really liked rubies?” I asked nonchalantly, swiftly slipping the ringer on my ring finger. Of course, it was rather large for me, but I could still play around with it.

“No, you never told me.” Mingi whispered, closely watching me.

“You never asked, about anything for that matter,” I looked up at Mingi, licking my lips, “You never bothered to get to know me, you know?”

As Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I turned my left hand around, watching as it took a few seconds for Mingi to realize what he was staring at. His eyes widened and he went to quickly check his own hand, his ruby ring indeed missing.

“How did you do that?” He asked, sounding slightly disturbed, as he caught my hand in his, “I didn’t even feel it.”

I smiled cheekily, allowing him to slip the ring off my finger to place it back on his middle one, “I’m quite good, aren’t I?”

Mingi chuckled and nodded once, slightly leaning back down, my muscles tensing at the shift of his weight on top of my body, “I think I should be given some credit too; don’t you think?”

My eyes widened as he casually dangled my favorite bracelet in my face, which had been on my right wrist before Mingi had gotten on top of me, “How did you do that?”

“Just like you did.” Mingi chuckled and motioned for me to extend my arm towards him, so I did. He carefully placed the thin bracelet around my wrist and clasped it shut, fingers softly grazing against my skin. I gulped as I looked up in his eyes, an intense look crossing Mingi’s face. My heart started racing again, and I found myself yearning to feel him closer to me, just as close as he had been earlier today after the pillow fight. The thought was alarming, but I couldn’t help but want it more. But to my surprise, Mingi moved off of me, laying back down next to me, his hand brushing mine after he settled underneath the blanket again.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N.” He muttered and as I glanced at him, I found his head turned towards me as he was looking at me with a solemn look on his face, “You were right at dinner, I made no effort to get to know you, to look past your attitude and actually try to see who you truly are. I’ve insulted you countless times and even tried to turn the others against you, I’m sorry.”

I hummed as I turned my head to be able to look at Mingi easier, biting my lower lip for a second, “I’m sorry too, I was horrible with you. I know I’m difficult, but I was scared, and just wanted to go back home. I’ve never been away from the manor like this and everything is just…new. I didn’t know what type of man you were, so I thought remaining cold would push you away, and you’d just leave me alone and return me to my father sooner.”

Mingi chuckled and lightly shook his head, “Nothing you do could veer me away from money.”

I chuckled and nodded; however I felt a little bitter knowing that Mingi only needed me for my money. That perhaps he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in me, just my money. And it was possible that that was the case, “Are you just…really not interested in me?”

It was weird hearing myself sound so small and almost insecure, wanting to understand Mingi’s thought process.

“That’s not it,” Mingi sighed, turning his head to look up at the ceiling, “I see myself in you, you know? That’s why I never bothered to treat you better, because I knew that once I got what I initially wanted, you’d be gone. You’d be back to living your perfect posh life, marrying some rich guy and never once having to worry about anything. And I found myself jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” I asked surprised, turning onto my side to face Mingi, my undivided attention on him.

“Yes,” Mingi whispered as he gulped, taking a deep breath, “I was born and raised in the Sun Rise Kingdom as well, just like you. And it would surprise you, Y/N, but I’m from a rich family. Not as rich as yours, we could never afford ourselves a mansion, but we did bathe in milk thrice a week. And my parents were affluential people in my town, had some ties with the Queen as well, but I was never too invested in the family business to learn more about that.”

My eyes had widened as I looked at Mingi, who’s eyes found mine as he turned his head, a small smile on his lips, “I was raised by a harsh governess, who lectured me too often about my behavior. I was never good enough or smart enough compared to my older brothers, and I was never talented enough. My parents neglected me quite often, my middle brother turned into my main caretaker, basically.”

Unconsciously, my hand moved under the blanket until it found Mingi’s hand, and our fingers intertwined as I squeezed his in reassurance, “Things only started getting worse when they found out I stole from people. Anything I could get my hands on, would end up in my grasp by the end of the night. I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like I wasn’t in control when I was doing these things, it was very humiliating. Especially when the constable caught me and locked me up for a whole week. My parents were very disappointed, and after that, they never treated me the same.”

“Mingi.” I whispered and he smiled sadly, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“They rarely allowed me to leave the house, but I would sneak out to play with the neighbor’s kids. They didn’t like me much, but I was desperate to do anything to play with someone, and so they would often chase me towards the cliffs, where they would tell me to leave them alone unless I wanted to get in trouble.” Mingi chuckled, but a somber look crossed his features, “My luck ran out one day. I stood too close to the edge and slipped. I don’t remember much from there, just the sharp rocks and the cold water, my lungs burning and eyes stinging.”

“That is horrible.” I whispered as my eyebrows furrowed, and without thinking first, my right hand went and cupped Mingi’s cheek, his skin soft and warm underneath my palm. Mingi’s eyes fluttered closed for a second, before he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, smiling softly.

“I woke up a week later, on this ship.” He chuckled, amusement written all over his face as he lightly pressed his face more into my palm, nose brushing against my wrist, “I was terrified, everyone looked so scary. I was raised by posh people, surrounded by aristocracy and cleanness all my life. The stench on the ship was horrible and I threw up way too often until I finally got used to it. At first, I begged Captain Kim, Hongjoong’s father, to take me home, but the closer we got towards the shore of the Sun Rise Kingdom, the harder I started realizing that this was the most freedom I had ever felt my whole life. Nobody treated me bad here for not being smart, nobody lectured me for misbehaving, and Captain Kim even seemed concerned over my well-being as he had raised two sons of his own. He was gentle with children. And some of the boys were already here, Yunho took me under his wing almost immediately. It was a foreign feeling having a boy close to my age so friendly and nice to me. He genuinely wanted to be my friend, and I finally had stopped feeling alone. I had realized I didn’t want to return home anymore.”

I chuckled, fingers lightly grazing against Mingi’s cheekbone, “So you stayed and became a pirate? How did you manage, Song Mingi? The once rich boy, now poor and smelly.”

I giggled as Mingi rolled his eyes, “I’m not smelly. But yes, it was hard at the beginning. I had to work to earn my money, and I wasn’t good at anything. Until Captain Kim showed me how to deal with guns, training me to become their best gunner. And I found a family within the crew, although some of them are questionable people, I still consider them my family.”

I smiled as I nodded, a warm feeling settling in my chest. So much made sense now, his gentleness and understanding. He was respectful, and carried himself with grace. He looked nothing like a pirate once out of his silly clothes, and it all made sense now as to why, “But why are you jealous of me?”

Mingi chuckled, and I was startled as he pressed a small kiss into my wrist, looking down as his cheeks suddenly flushed red, “Your father cares about you. He loves you and would do anything to have you back. I never had parents like him. I’ve always felt lonely and weird when I was around my family. Despite my middle brother taking care of me, I knew he wasn’t too fond of me and was only doing it because he felt pity towards me.”

“Just because my father loves me, doesn’t mean I don’t feel lonely.” I whispered, suddenly overcome with emotion. I’ve never opened up to anyone before, “I—I don’t have any friends. I’m alone in the mansion, unless my father is at home. I can’t talk to most servants as they are around my age and my father forbid them from doing so. I only have my two maids, who hate me. And my governess always preached on about me having to remain pretty so that a man would want to marry me. She taught me manners that would appeal to a rich man to take me as his wife. I learned everything else I know on my own, browsing through my mother’s books, which are in the forbidden section of the library. I never got to know her, and yet I miss her every day. I wonder what she would have been like, if she would have treated me like my father or not. If she would’ve locked me up in the mansion like my father does, or would’ve let me discover the world on my own. You taking me here is the most fun I’ve had my whole life, Mingi. I don’t hate it as much as I say I do. Although, the stench does get horrible at times.”

Mingi chuckled as his eyes found mine, and I grinned, “You deal better with it than I did.”

“Because I’m better than you.” I teased and Mingi rolled his eyes, suddenly shifting closer as he turned onto his side too, our bodies facing each other as our knees touched underneath the blanket, our fingers intertwined, “Did you know people who have this urge to take things, to collect them, are called kleptomaniacs?”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly shook his head no, “Well, I think you might be one.”

“Really?” Mingi asked quietly and I nodded.

“Yes, because I think I am one too.” I grinned as I started playing with Mingi’s ruby ring, his eyes falling on the item, “Because I also take things from people. It started out as a prank at first, back at the mansion. I would take things without people noticing and wait for the servants or my father to start searching for them, wanting to see how long until they realized they weren’t there. But I always got away with it, so I became bold. I started stealing from other people, and I was never caught. I’ve been stealing jewelry and smaller items since I’m ten, Mingi.”

“What?!” Mingi looked alarmed, and I giggled, nodding my head.

“It’s bad, I know.” I shrugged, “But what started out as a joke became a serious issue as I couldn’t stop anymore. I do it without noticing now. I just see something pretty that I would like to have, and the next second I find it in my hands. If my father were to find out, he’d certainly be horrified by his little daughter not being perfect anymore.”

“I think you’re perfect.” My cheeks flushed as Mingi whispered, eyes racking over my face, almost as if searching for something.

“Your compliments feel a lot more sincere than the ones I’ve been getting back home from all the other men.” I muttered, finding myself thinking out loud. Mingi’s fingers tightened against mine, and I looked away embarrassed.

“Because they are sincere.” Mingi’s tone was firm, his voice deep, “I wouldn’t say something I don’t mean.”

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “So, I really am a bitch?”

“At times.” My eyes widened at his sincerity, but before I could pull away, Mingi chuckled, “But you’re also quite cool. I never expected a lady like you to punch a man, let alone break his nose.”

“I was mad.” I tried to defend myself as Mingi hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I realized I had my hand on his face still, so I quickly pulled it away and noted how calm I felt, wrapped in the vanilla and gunpowder scent.

“I think we’ll get a letter from your father soon.” My eyebrows furrowed at Mingi’s words, something in my stomach suddenly dropping. Why did the thought not feel so inviting anymore? Why did I find myself wanting to spend a little more time with Mingi?

“Oh.” I whispered barely, eyebrows furrowing, “Will you tell me stories of your childhood?”

“Do you want me to?” Mingi asked surprised, and I nodded with a smile, “Alright, so…”

And I closed my eyes to listen more attentively, his eyes too distracting to be looking at Mingi’s face, but I found his deep voice soothing as it lulled me to sleep.

Waking up in the mornings had always been difficult back home, in my comfortable Queen-sized bed, but here on the ship it seemed to get even more difficult. Perhaps it was the even rocking of the ship, or the warmth, which enveloped my whole body, making me feel content as I would nuzzle further into the silky pillow, Mingi’s vanilla scent strong as I could hear him snoring lightly or groaning in his sleep. But today, the vanilla and gunpowder scent seemed more prominent, the warmth emanating from next to me almost making me feel hot, and instead of the silky pillow, my head was pressed against something harder, firmer, and certainly warmer. I had started to stir upon hearing some loud voices down the hallway, outside the safety of Mingi’s room. I couldn’t understand their words, but a woman and a man were certainly arguing. Yeosang and Hana never seemed like the type to argue, and meanwhile Taeri and Yunho could get riled up by each other, I’ve never actually heard them argue in front of everyone all these days I’ve been here on this ship. A door down the hallway was slammed shut loudly, and I sighed loudly, licking my dry lips as I pressed my cheek a little harder against my pillow. It took a few more minutes to become aware of the weight around my waist, or the way my bare calf was brushing against another clothed leg. Growing suddenly stiff, my eyes snapped open, only for my jaw to fall slack as I was presented with an alarming image.

I was laying all over Mingi, right leg thrown over his hips as it was comfortably slotted between his legs, my right hand intertwined with his left one as Mingi’s fingers would absentmindedly flex around mine. I gasped as I looked down, the blanket hanging low around our hips, the skirt of my nightgown ridden up to my thighs, making my cheeks flush. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, and I couldn’t help but not only feel embarrassed, but…I was suddenly overcome with a fiery need as my fingers tightened against Mingi’s, holding his hand a little firmer. My breathing progressively got harder, and I allowed my eyes to rake over his tan chest, muscles now soft but toned, Mingi’s chest rising and falling evenly as he was still asleep. I couldn’t help but gulp as I found the sight of Mingi completely ravishing, a foreign need in my body urging me on to press a kiss against Mingi’s right pectoral. Mingi sighed softly, and I raised my head slightly to watch as his eyebrows furrowed before he settled back down, seemingly still asleep. I bit my lower lip, eyes fixated on his perfect face as the sunlight poured in through the little window, perfectly falling on his handsome face. Mingi mumbled something, and I froze, eyes widening in fright that I was caught. But his eyes were still closed and he sighed again, his tongue peeking slightly out as he licked his lower lip, gulping before another sigh left his lips. My eyes had been fixated on his plush lips, and I found my heart beating faster as I envisioned what they would’ve felt like pressed against mine, soft and warm, no doubt devouring mine in a feverish kiss. I gulped as shivers ran down my body, stomach clenching, and I realized that I had to get away from Mingi, that I needed fresh air to clear my thoughts. To sort out these weird yearnings of my body towards this pirate, decide whether they were happening because I’ve been spending too much time with him or because, indeed, I had started falling for him.

So, I very slowly tried to peel myself off Mingi, but when I went to move my right leg off his body, suddenly his hand holding mine released my hand and went to my naked knee, grabbing it and holding it flush against his hips. I froze as I bit my lower lip, realizing that this would be harder than I thought initially. I sighed quietly and tried again, but his other arm only tightened around my waist and I was suddenly yanked back into his body, making me fall back against his chest with a loud gasp.

“Stop moving.” Mingi croaked out, his morning voice gravely deep as he groaned. My cheeks flushed instantly as I found my body shivering, something coiling in my lower stomach. I have never felt like this before, having never been this close to a man, never so desperately having to hold myself back from doing something I might regret later.

“Mingi,” I whispered, trying to collect myself, “we have to get up.”

“No, we don’t.” Mingi groaned, and I stiffened when I felt his calloused palm caressing the back of my thigh, reaching just a bit higher, underneath my nightgown. My heart was racing in my chest, right fingers fisting the bedsheet next to Mingi’s torso. Mingi’s breathy voice and closed eyes were a clear enough sign that he hadn’t fully woken up yet, and I tried to ignore the way his fingers dug into my skin around my waist, “It’s too early.”

“I don’t think it is,” I mumbled, turning my head to look towards the window, “The sun is high up in the sky.”

Mingi scoffed, and I felt him shrugging, “So what?”

“Don’t you have duties you have to attend?” I whispered, looking up at him, and I had to stop myself from pressing a kiss against his jaw.

“Nothing too urgent,” Mingi sniffed and then groaned as his fingers flexed against my naked skin, “they can wait a little longer.”

I’ve never in my life before had the urge to straddle someone, and my jaw clenched as I raised my head off Mingi’s chest, staring down at his face intently, “Mingi, I need fresh air. Right now.”

He tsked and only grabbed me harder, hitching my leg higher up on his body, and I gasped as Mingi pulled me on top of himself, large palm pressing against my lower back as he gingerly started massaging me through the light fabric of the nightgown, “What are you doing?”

Perhaps the strain in my voice finally snapped him wide awake, or the fact that our lower bodies were pressed against each other, something pressing against my thigh as I gulped, afraid to move. Mingi’s eyes snapped wide open and he raised his head, looking down at me. He froze as he took me in, no doubt my whole face flushed, and lips red from how much I had been biting them. Mingi’s face reddened instantly, and he averted his eyes, which had started slipping down my neck and chest, the nightgown having slipped a little lower across my chest. It didn’t help that Mingi went to sleep with his own shirt unbuttoned, firm torso on full display as I suddenly pressed my hands against his bare chest, sitting slightly up.

“Fuck.” Mingi hissed as he threw his head back, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gripped my waist, stabilizing me. I had thought the same thing, but I couldn’t say it out loud as I was a lady, but his hardness was suddenly pressing against me in a rather sensitive spot, making me gasp. Mingi’s fingers tightened around my waist as I shifted subconsciously, the friction foreign but not unpleasant at all, “You have to get off.”

“I’ve been trying to,” I was breathless as Mingi looked at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “But you wouldn’t let me.”

He gulped and nodded once, eyebrows furrowing, seemingly in deep thought for a second, “Because I want you.”

My eyes widened at his words, lips parting as I gaped at him, never having heard those words from a man before. I knew what it implied, I had read a romance book once where things took an unexpected turn, but nobody has ever said those things to me up until now. It made my skin tingle, my cheeks flush a darker color as Mingi’s intense eyes stared up into mine, eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“But I’m going home soon,” I whispered, completely at a loss because I found myself wanting him as well, “And I…we can’t.”

“I know.” Mingi gulped, trying to mask his disappointment, but I could hear it still tinge his tone, “Of course I do. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” I cut him off, almost desperately, “I—I think I also—”

The door suddenly slammed open and I jumped as Mingi instinctively pulled me down against himself, bringing the blanket over my body as he hugged me into his body around my middle. I watched with wide eyes and a racing heart as the Captain walked a little further inside the room, arms crossed in front of his chest, giving us a scrutinizing gaze. He looked unimpressed and almost exasperated as he sighed loudly, rolling his eyes for a second, “Your father wrote us a letter. He wants you home today, the money is prepared. The exchange happens at noon, so get up.”

Something dropped in my stomach when I heard those words, and I found my fingers curling into Mingi’s shirt, as if I didn’t want to leave, to let go of him. But wasn’t that what I’ve wanted all this time? To go home? To forget about Mingi and everyone else, and just continue living my life the way I was supposed to? To find a rich husband, marry into a rich family, and raise children of my own? Wasn’t that the plan all along?

“Aye, Captain.” Mingi’s tone lacked any cheeriness or playfulness, and I found myself reluctant to look at him. It sounded like he wasn’t ready to return me to my father just yet. But the Captain grunted once before he stormed out, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Mingi and I moved at the same time, his arms freeing me as I scrambled off him, suddenly aware of what I almost allowed to happen if the Captain wouldn’t have walked in. I was ready to give myself to Mingi, and I didn’t know what to do with that revelation as I stumbled for a second, hissing as I had almost stepped into that wretched hole in the floorboards. This is why I needed to go home. I didn’t belong here; I didn’t belong with Mingi. I was an aristocrat, Mingi was a lowlife. We would never work out our differences. We weren’t right for each other.

I stiffened as I grabbed my clothes, realizing that they weren’t even mine in the first place, and would have to wear the dress I had arrived in. But I didn’t have it in me to put it on myself, not when I haven’t had a milk bath in almost a week. I couldn’t dirty my mother’s dress like that, it had already been damaged, much to my dismay.

“I’ll go change, be back in ten.” Mingi’s voice was small as he got off the bed as well, headed towards his closet.

“Just change in here,” I found myself muttering, turning my back to him as I slipped the nightgown off myself. I knew I just exposed myself to him completely, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care anymore. Everything felt bitter, my mind a mess as I suddenly didn’t know what I wanted anymore, of where I belonged, of who I was. Mingi remained silent and I heard him shuffling around, probably changing too. I quickly wore my short silky gown, and pulled on the low V-neck black t-shirt Mingi had borrowed me yesterday over it, saying that it would be cooler today. I tucked the material inside the leather pants belonging to Taeri, and then quickly put on Mingi’s white shirt, only buttoning it up to my chest as it was covered by a different material underneath. I gazed at my corset longingly, remembering seeing Taeri wear it once like that, over her shirt. So, I grasped at it and sighed, placing it around my torso. It brought little sense of familiarity, of something that I once wore daily not even a week ago. But now it felt weird, still undone yet already constricting, a reminder of who I was, of what I was walking back to.

“Mingi?” I cleared my throat, finding it rather dry all of a sudden. When he hummed, I spoke up quietly, “Could you lace up my corset?”

His intake of breath was sharp, perhaps a reminder that not even six days ago he was the one undoing it, welcoming me inside his life, now about to send me away from it. He hummed without saying a word, and I heard him as he walked closer, taking the lace from my hands as he softly started pulling on them, securing them.

“How tight?” He asked, his voice raspy and low as my jaw clenched.

“Tight.” Was the only thing I said, and gasped lightly when he pulled on the strings harshly, forcing me to brace myself against the chair in front of his desk. My fingers curled around the sturdy wood with each constricting knot, biting my lower lip as my lungs were once again struggling to fill to the brim with air. This is what I was used to, a little reminder of what my life was like before Mingi whisked me away from my monotonous days. Before he made my days more enjoyable, and showed me that there was a life worth living, a life you could enjoy to the fullest.

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded small, and tight, and I hummed as he laced it up fully, tightening the top and doing the last knots to it. I took a deep breath and sighed loudly, palms turning into fists as Mingi gently tapped my waist as a signal that he was done, that I was ready. But I didn’t feel ready, I was far from being ready. I bit my lower lip as my heartbeat picked up again, conflicting thoughts racing in my head as I heard Mingi inhale sharply, prompting me to whirl around.

Our eyes locked, and before I could list all the reasons why this would be wrong, I lurched forward just as Mingi grabbed my cheeks, our lips smashing together. My eyebrows furrowed as I finally felt his plush and soft skin against mine, lips exactly the same way I had imagined them. I’ve never kissed a man before in my life, but it felt right to have Mingi be the first one to do so. My arms quickly wrapped around his neck as I pushed up on my tip toes, leaning my body against Mingi’s as he pulled back for a second, before pressing his lips against mine again, slotting his upper lip between mine as he lightly sucked on my lower lip. Everything felt new, but exhilarating as my cheeks burned, lips pressing against Mingi’s desperately, trying to allow him to lead, to guide me as the feeling was foreign, but oh so good. His warm hands left my cheeks in exchange to grip my waist and the back of my head as his ring clad fingers tangled into my long locks of curly hair, his nose pressing into the warm skin of my cheek as I found myself desperate to feel more. I became aware that I had quickened the once experimental pace Mingi’s lips had set, and was now pressing my lips harder against his, ravaging his mouth as Mingi whined when my fingers subconsciously tangled in his short hair, delicately yanking on the strands. His grip on my waist tightened, and I felt him walking me backwards hurriedly, his lips pressing bruisingly against mine as I was suddenly overwhelmed by the strong scent of vanilla as I tried to inhale through my nose, lungs long burning due to the corset, but due to Mingi stealing my breath away as wll. My left hand slowly slipped down to his jaw to hold onto him as our teeth suddenly clanked together, slightly startling me, but only urging me to chase after Mingi’s lips when he attempted to pull back. My teeth latched onto his lower lip as the back of my legs hit the desk behind me, and I sucked on Mingi’s lower lip as he pushed me down onto the desk, groaning against my mouth as I found myself licking at his lips, wanting even more of him. I didn’t recognize myself for a second, but this is what I’ve wanted, and I was done repressing my wants and needs because they were wrong or not lady like. I wanted Mingi, and I would get what I wanted from now on. Nobody could control me anymore. I was my own person.

I gasped as I felt Mingi’s big hand slip down from my waist towards my thigh, and his calloused hand firmly gripped it as he yanked me lower on his deck, back arching when I felt his lean body pressing against mine, stepping between my legs. My hand let go of his jaw as Mingi instead of holding the back of my head proceeded to tilt my chin up with the steady grip he had on it, and softly, but surely coerced my lips open, mouth parting for him. I sneaked my hand around his narrow waist covered with his leather belt, moaning into his mouth when I felt his tongue just lightly, teasingly, slip past my lips, licking inside my mouth. My body felt alive, skin tingling, and senses heightened as Mingi’s whole being enraptured mine, the only thing being him on my mind as he explored my mouth, liking at my tongue as my legs wrapped around his hips, caging him against myself, and Mingi groaned, his kiss turning feverish. Our tongues danced together, and I normally would’ve been embarrassed by the soft keens leaving my mouth, but this was Mingi, and I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him back just as badly. I didn’t want to ever let go of him; afraid we’d never find our way back to each other. My lungs had started burning as dark spots started appearing behind my closed eyes, and as much as I never wanted to part from his addictive lips, I needed air. So, I softly pulled back, gasping loudly as my chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted as I intake small gasps of air. Mingi leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine, his breathing just as ragged as mine as our breaths tangled together, our pants loud in the quiet room. There was the occasional wave hitting the side of the ship harsher as we tried to regain ourselves, but I found myself clinging tighter and tighter against Mingi, both legs wrapped around his hips and pulling him into myself as my fingers dug into his black silky shirt, silver chains dangling around his neck and chest as he was slightly leaning forward.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time now.” Mingi whispered, voice raspy as he sounded breathless. My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I watched as his eyes were still closed as he looked at ease, almost content as his lips were swollen, even plumper than they usually were.

“I’ve never been kissed before.” I found myself admitting as Mingi slowly opened his eyes, a small smile slipping onto his lips as he cupped my cheek with one hand, pressing a lasting kiss on my forehead first. My heart was hammering in my chest violently, and I flushed even more as he kissed my temple, then my eyes, my cheeks, nose, and the proceeded to plant a lasting kiss against my lips, making me clutch onto the collar of his shirt, refusing to allow him to pull back just yet. Our lips slowly started moving against each other again, and Mingi shuddered when I bit his lower lip again, yearning to remain close to him, wrapped up in his warmth and comforting vanilla scent mixed with gunpowder.

“I couldn’t let you go just like that.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed once we pulled just slightly away, our noses brushing against each other. His eyes were casted downwards, and I felt my stomach clenching as I realized what he was implying. Suddenly, there was a desperate need clawing up my chest to never let him go, afraid of what that implied. We barely spent a week together, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him anymore. Even if we fought and teased each other, getting on each other’s nerves, leaving him behind felt…wrong. What if we could work on our differences? What if Mingi could teach me, and guide me towards being a better person? What if I just…left my old life behind to live with this silly pirate? Would my father understand? Would my mother be proud of me up in the Heavens?

“I don’t want to go,” I found myself confessing, Mingi’s eyes snapping open as he stared at me in disbelief. I gulped as I took a deep breath, body slightly trembling, but conviction in my eyes. I have made up my mind, and as I leaned forward, lips brushing against Mingi’s, I felt his body soften into mine, hands cupping my cheeks as I whispered against his lips, “I want you, Mingi.”

The wind was harsh and cold as it rocked the small boat, the two pirates struggling to row against the big waves. Salt water sloshed inside the wooden boat, and I tried to keep my feet away from the water, but instead, a stronger wave managed to hit the side of the boat, big droplets of water splashing my side, making me gasp loudly as it soaked my attire. Mingi had an amused look on his face as he sat facing me, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up almost to his biceps, straining as he was rowing as well, sweat shinning on his forehead in the beaming sunlight. Mingi had been right, the weather today was colder compared to the other days, and I was grateful that he borrowed me thicker clothes. As I looked over Mingi’s shoulder, my fingers clenched against each other as they were resting in my lap, intertwined, as I had noticed my father pacing up and down the shore. He seemed to be alone, nobody else in sight, and I could only assume that the deal would only proceed if he didn’t bring anyone with himself. My body was tense, and my stomach coiled the closer we got to the shore, eyes traveling to the high hill, falling on the window that I knew was my room. I was so close to returning home, barely minutes away from being in my father’s arms. But as my eyes fell on Mingi, who had turned around and instructed the other three pirates with us to stop rowing, I realized my life would never be the same. I didn’t want to go back to how it once was. Mingi turned in his seat, sharp eyes finding mine.

“Are you ready?” He asked, and I nodded once, making myself smaller as I caught another glimpse of my father, who had stopped pacing, and was now looking our way. My heart was hammering in my chest.

“Proceed with the plan.” Mingi’s firm voice instructed the other three pirates, and I gulped as two got off instantly, their feet barely reaching the sandy ground of the sea. I watched as the third person wearing my mother’s beautiful dress reached his hand out, almost comically elegantly, the two other pirates hauling him out of the boat. To my father, that man looked like it was me, a white veil covering his head to make him unrecognizable. I watched as the three pirates went closer to the shore, the one looking like me staying behind, making almost desperate sounding noises as he seemed to be slightly struggling to swim forward. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched his caricature performance, but wondered if that’s how these pirates had been viewing me all this time. As if sensing my doubts, Mingi’s hand reached forward, and he grasped mine tightly, leaning down to look me in the eyes, but still making he was covering me with his broad form from my father’s eyes.

“Are you sure, princess?” His voice was firm, “You can still change your mind, I won’t hold you back.”

“Mingi,” I sighed, intertwining our fingers tightly, “I have made up my mind. I want this. I want you.”

A beaming smile appeared on his face, and I don’t think Mingi had been ever handsomer than he was right now in the sunlight, his adorable front teeth slightly more forward than the rest, his sharp eyes disappearing, and nose scrunching. My stomach clenched and heart stuttered, and I found myself wondering if it was just a matter of time until I realized that I had fallen in love with him the second I had laid my eyes on him. At Mrs. Boo’s ball, when he had knocked that servant with all the delicacies over, leaving nonchalantly as if nothing happened, eating that cherry that had landed on the floor like it didn’t even happen. He was a genuine man, different from all those trying to court me just because I had money. Those men never tried to look past my wealth and beauty, they never actually cared about my thoughts and feelings. Not even Lieutenant Kim. But Mingi saw me,and wasn’t afraid to correct my mistakes, to enlighten me. He listened to me, he was curious about me, and he wanted me just the way I was. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, blinking away the tears that formed in my eyes, blaming it on the harsh sunlight. But my attention was quickly back on the pirates in the water as I heard my father’s desperate cries.

“My little daughter!” The third pirate was still far from reaching my father, but he was still waddling towards him without much struggle, “Oh, my precious Y/N! Are you alright?”

There was no answer, and I could see the worry on my father’s face as he grabbed the smaller chest he had by his leg, eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he had grown older these past days, and suddenly I felt sorry for him.

“Give us what we came here for, old man!” A pirate holding a sword demanded of my father as he finally reached closer to the shore, and I watched as he pushed the chest clumsily towards the pirate, before recoiling as the sword was now pointed at him, “Nobody knows about this, yes?”

“No, no!” My father quickly exclaimed, sounding desperate, making me pout as Mingi chuckled, “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone—I just want my daughter back!”

“Good.” The pirate chuckled, and started pulling the heavy looking chest further inside the water as the other pirate, who had been paddling just behind, reached him, helping him out with the chest. They both started returning to the boat, moving a lot slower due to the added weight. The third pirate looking like me was still not close enough, but my father could certainly see him better now.

“Oh, dear Lord, thank you for returning my daughter!” I heard him call out as he took a step towards the water, grimacing as his boots got soaked, “Come, Y/N, come, papa is here.”

“Your father is a hilarious man.” Mingi muttered as he watched my father with a snicker, making me throw a glare at him.

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s been very concerned, probably hadn’t slept in days.” I scrutinized him, making Mingi’s smile turn sheepish, “I feel bad for what I’m doing to him, but it’s time I take control of my own life.”

“You can still go back—”

“Mingi,” I snapped, eyes narrowing at the handsome pirate, “I’m starting to think you don’t want me anymore—”

“I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, Y/N.” Mingi’s words were rushed as his fingers tightened against mine, eyebrows furrowing.

“Good,” I smirked and yanked on our linked hands, making Mingi fall forward as the boat swayed dangerously with his movement, “Because you will never get rid of me now, love.”

“That was the plan, darling.” We chuckled at the same time before Mingi’s lips pressed firmly against mine, salty from the wind, but soft and warm. My eyes fluttered closed as I grabbed his nape, breathing him in, impatient to get back to the ship and learn of everything he had to offer me. But just as Mingi would’ve deepened the kiss, there was a startled shout coming from the shore, and we broke apart, turning to look towards my father. He looked shocked as the pirate had ripped the veil off his head and was laughing loudly, sticking his tongue out at my father before he turned around, and started swimming quickly back towards the boat. The other two pirates had reached us, and Mingi stood to help them place the chest inside the boat, watching as they got in the boat as well, waiting for their mate.

“What is the meaning of this?!” My father screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran inside the cold sea water, waggling his finger towards us, “Where is my daughter you filthy pirates?!”

“You really are his daughter.” Mingi chuckled as he cheered on the third pirate, motioning for him to swim faster, but the dress seemed to be rather constricting.

“Stop it.” I huffed as Mingi just flashed me a cheeky smile, completely amused as he watched my father trying to desperately move closer, but he was afraid of the water. He couldn’t swim, he’d never be able to reach the boat here. That’s the reason why we had stopped here, because I had told Mingi to stop here.

“Where’s my daughter?!” My father screamed again, slapping his hands angrily against the water, “When the Navy fleet finds you, you dirty pirates, you’ll be finished! Finished! You will all perish; you’ll be punished for what you’ve done to my daughter! I will watch your execution with my own eyes, you filthy pirates!”

“He’s not very creative with his words, I must note.” I slapped Mingi’s ass hard, making him yelp and jump, almost tipping the boat over as the other pirates yelped, holding onto the sides of the wooden construction.

“Stop being an asshat!” I snapped, standing up as the third pirate finally reached us, whining about how heavy the dress felt, and that he wanted it off himself. The other two helped him in, and Mingi sat down, the three pirates now starting to row, taking us back to the large ship, to the notorious pirate crew, called Ateez.

“Papa!” I screamed, heart breaking a little upon seeing the shocked and desperate look on my father’s face, “I am completely fine! Papa, they didn’t hurt me!”

“Y/N?!” I heard my father scream back desperately, looking lost.

“Papa, I want this! I want to stay with Mingi!” I screamed back, waving at him happily, “Papa, I’m finally happy! Mingi is going to take me on so many adventures! I promise I will write you letters, papa!”

“Come back here right now, Yoon Y/N!” I heard my father scream at the top of his lungs, now looking furious as the pirates rowed against the currents, taking me further away from my father. I just giggled, and waved some more.

“I promise to return sometime! Look forward to my letters!” I blew a big kiss, beaming towards my father, “Farewell, papa!”

And all he could do was watch me helplessly as I became smaller and smaller the closer we got to the big ship. From this point on, I dictated my own life. I did whatever I wanted to, I behaved however I wanted to, I lived however I wanted to, and loved whoever I wanted to. My eyes fell on Mingi, and he was looking up at me with a proud and warm glint in his eyes, smile dashing and beaming as I finally felt free.

I chuckled, and sat back down, cupping his cheeks as I pressed a kiss against his lips in gratitude as he nuzzled his nose against mine.

“Your adventure, Yoon Y/N, starts right now.”

A/N: I want to thank all of you who stuck through the stories with me, it means so much to me, you wouldn't even understand. Writing is a great passion of mine and I dedicate a huge part of my time to it, they are always little pieces of me as I love what I'm doing. I know this part is extremely long, and I feel slightly bad for it, but if you've reached the end and you're reading this, I just really want to thank you all for your continuous support and love shown through all of my stories, you have no idea how happy you all make me! Tbh, this story is one of my absolute favorite ones from the Black Ocean series, and I know our beloved Y/N here isn't the best at the beginning, but I promise she learns next to Mingi and becomes better in the future. I have planned a spin-off for San's part, no promises when I'll finally commit to it as I have to write my thesis as of now, but I say stay tuned for it if you enjoyed his part, I have zero intentions of romanticizing anything too much as his story is quite heavy.

I want to thank you all again for following through on this journey with me, I will always cherish it, their stories dear to me. I hope you enjoyed everyone's part and that my writing is enough for an enjoyable story, I know I still have a lot to learn to become even better. I'm just blabbering on right now LOL because I don't want this to end *CRIES* but every story comes to an end, and so here I shall close this chapter. I appreciate all and every one of you, thank you again for everything, and check out my masterlist if you'd like to read more of my stories! *kisses*

Masterlist

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