#had he survived on his own - or been brought up by anyone or anything else the chances of him being dangerous even accidentally

[flowerbull]

pls consider..... getting bitten by arlo. ....that is all.

#( ooc ) #( tbd ) #gyhujidFJJDF LIKE in a defensiv way or something #idk the circumstances that would necessitate him defending himself in THAT kind of drastic way but GOD IF HE EVER DID #if he doesnt take a chunk - yall know that shit is gonna be a NAAASSTYY NASTY PAINFUL HUGE BITE #cows dont have top teeth but :) he does ofc!! and hes an omnivore unlike cows so he does in fact. have SOME sharp teeth <3 !! #anyway.... i am just thinking about h i m <3333 #hes a scary big guy that could do so much damage with hardly ANY effort but he was #....raised with Love. #had he survived on his own - or been brought up by anyone or anything else the chances of him being dangerous even accidentally #would definitely skyrocket #Marta was exactly what Arlo needed.... and Arlo was exactly what she needed <:' ) NOT TO GET MUSHY OUT OF NOWHERE BUT HAHA #also ?? marta?? i think that was her name. or something like it. thats his mama!

[velvetures]

Honorifics

A/N: Yeah... I don't know about this. I'll probably take it down since I'm unsure if it's got enough of a consistent vibe. Let me know if it's actually something you enjoy since I don't write angst or hurt/comfort often. I ALWAYS WRITE HAPPY ENDINGS THO. That's a damn promise. Summary: You've given Ghost a title he hates, and takes it out on you. The situation goes too far, and you're both left trying to figure it out. Reader is nicknamed "Brass" since she's a long-distance shooter/sniper. T/W: angst, cursing, Ghost being an emotionally unstable human, yelling, the reader having a breakdown, smidge of not eating, smidge of not drinking anything, comfort, feelings, female reader, not proofread.

When you joined the task force, things didn’t exactly go as smoothly as you had hoped it would. Training sessions usually ended up with you either getting your ass beat or nearly surviving a full-on embarrassment by the skin of your teeth just to be told that you still weren’t in good enough shape to keep up with them in the field. Surely being a woman didn’t excuse you from being in shape for the kind of work Laswell and Price had brought you in for, but damn if it wasn’t difficult to try and have a one-on-one fight with someone like Soap or Ghost without the benefit you would typically have in a real-world battle situation. The reality that all of the men in the squad were literally the best of the best aside, there could be just barely enough room for you to compete on the same level when it came to sheer physical strength. While that wasn’t your specialty anyway, the Captain made it clear you needed to prove you could handle your own against serious physical fights without assistance. After nearly five weeks of having one of your squad mates slam you on your ass one too many times in the training hall, you finally were able to prove to Price that you could go out in the field and he didn’t have to extend any extra worries for your ability to survive.

Logistically as a sniper, it meant you frequently held a much more distant role in missions. By watching from a scope you could ensure that infiltrations, covert ops, and other hush-hush kinds of operations that typically the 141 wouldn’t have the luxury of. Being the skilled marksman you were, it made sense to take advantage of your talents and also extend you a job that progressed past what you’d experienced in your “standard” military career and multiple tours overseas. However, that meant communications were essentially the backbone of your usefulness aside from your rifle. Next to nothing else, your daily and mission-based work almost exclusively went through Lieutenant Ghost. Which… often proved to be the largest obstacle that you faced aside from making sure that your scope didn’t get bumped off sight the -often- rough flights and drives to insertion points.

The Lieutenant was particularly mean… he certainly didn’t give a single thought to if anyone thought that he was a little too harsh of a personality to swallow. That went for everything you came to learn about Ghost. From his lack of willingness to speak unless required of him, to his unique ability of appearing and disappearing from anywhere without the slightest sound or hint of where he’d come from or gone to. Trained as a distance marksman, even you were impressed that such a massive man could move around like smoke on water. That and his physical appearance; good god above. Surely a man like Ghost had never graced the face of the Earth before, else he’d have been just as mythical in his legendary life and would’ve been known by thousands of people. He stood towering over just about everyone, in whatever room he was in, and compared to your own height it was downright laughable the difference between the two of you as operators.

The one thing that made the biggest impression on you after meeting the Lieutenant was his voice and how he spoke. That thick accent always sounded rough and a little gritty. His deep timbre gave such a commanding authority that if given the choice between getting yelled at by Captain Price or Ghost… there was no choice you’d sit for hours listening to Price threaten you over Ghost. He just sounded so scary and attractive all at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it developed into a subconscious dynamic where you saw Ghost as such a superior officer -and human- that no matter how much you liked to daydream about Ghost in less-than-professional situations… You gave him the utmost respect at all times. Easiest of all to recognize was that from day one, you had never addressed Ghost to his face as anything other than ‘sir’. Not even his rank gave enough nuance to his character and presence, so for you, Ghost was inextricably attached to the name.

Ghost however… didn’t like it.

Such a simple address actually made Ghost grit his teeth beneath the shield of his mask. When he heard you call him that, he automatically related it to how he had called General Shepherd ‘sir’ as a subtle sign of mockery and defiance. Thinking about that made him more than necessarily angry and confused, but he couldn’t really accuse you of having ever been given much of a reason to detest him. Therefore, he had to come to the conclusion that you were doing it out of some kind of respect that a drill sergeant or boot camp instructor had bashed into your brain so hard that it stuck permanently. Not surprising since you were much different from the rest of the task force. Yet he had to revise that after the first six months of you being with them permanently. You had gotten settled in. Enough so that you called the Captain, ‘Cap’… Soap, ‘Johnny’… and Garrick, ‘Gaz’ like everyone else did. Exceptionalities only appeared when it came time for you to be around him or have any sort of interaction that wasn’t the occasional silent nod of acknowledgment when walking past each other in the hallways.

He honestly tried to ignore it and you altogether for that matter in an attempt to keep his bitter anger at a minimum. Seeing such a small and fucking happy woman always lingering around somewhere in the corners of his sight couldn’t be anything but a distraction waiting to happen. A bad habit that he didn’t have the mental capacity or emotional willingness to take on. Fuck… he already had to worry about the 141 as a whole, to begin with. Now you on top of that? It was more responsibility than he’d signed up for initially. Hearing you call him ‘sir’ day in and day out began to take its toll on his self-control. Ghost needed to either find out why you were hellbent on calling him that, or at least be enough of a bastard to you to be reassured that you did it because you wanted a polite way to tell him to shove it up his ass sideways.

The Lieutenant had been being nothing short of a prick in the last few months.

He was making paperwork back at HQ a nightmare that couldn’t be solved alternatively through someone like Gaz or Soap who often didn’t mind playing the part of the unbiased third party. Refusing to sign things when you stopped by his office, outright ignoring your necessary questions, and stonewalling you at every single stop along the way just to yield at the last moment and do everything you’d been asking for so the both of you wouldn’t face heat from any higher-ups. That alone was enough for you to consider talking to Soap privately since he knew Ghost the best… but you’d kept putting it off hoping that it was just a passing phase of shitty attitude.

Your patience and emotional strength fell through the floor after attempting for the third time in a week after something so fucking simple as trying to get his approval and official signature on a post-mission report Price had delegated to you after being called to Washington D.C. for a meeting. It wasn’t a major task, but knowing that the Captain had given you the responsibility first over anyone else made you want to impress him and take care of business without incident. God forbid you do something as simple as ask Ghost to pick up a pen and scribble his name at the bottom of a page so that you could send it on through the higher-up channels. It resulted in the Lieutenant straight-up yelling at you in the middle of the hallway outside his office when he’d found you standing there patiently waiting for him to show up. He wasn’t threatening physically, but it cut much deeper into your pride and feelings than it should have.

With every word that dripped venomously out of his masked mouth, you lost a little extra peace of mind on having such an untouchable and unshakably good opinion of Ghost for so long. This moment of undeserved verbal punishment was enough to make the corners of your eyes burn with inner disgrace, self-doubt, and plain old sadness which motivated you to get the hell out of there before the Lieutenant saw you cry. When you turned your back and walked away right in the middle of his berating for you being “too fucking annoying to tolerate”, your only destination was your personal quarters on the other end of the building where a lock on the door could shut out the entire base for as long as you saw fit. Upon the first estimation, it would be after Captain Price returned so that you could have at least one single chance at not getting a second punishment or dismissal from the squad. The sound of your door slamming shut and your back sliding down against it on your way down to the floor silenced the entire room around you, leaving just enough room for the papers clenched to your chest to flutter onto the ground and your weak cries to sounds amplified.

It was hours before you could drag yourself off the floor and into bed, too tired and wanting to fall back on the trained and instinctual desire to hide away somewhere isolated and not move for hours on end. Being a long-distance marksman gave you the talent of patience insurmountable to the average person, allowing days to pass by without you needing to do more than go to the bathroom before coming right back to a motionless position. That’s what you wanted tonight. You needed to focus all of your energy into your brain alone and use it to sort through the hurt burning through your eyes and throat, and the questioning that gave such a sickening feeling a chance root in your stomach. Questions of if it had been foolish to trust Ghost as much as you did the others, knowing how you’d been warned that he would be difficult to work with. Hoping you hadn’t been truly so ignorant of judging behavior to think that the Lieutenant was something much greater than his behavior had been not only today but for the past months.

The next two days were spent laying near motionless… not hungry or thirsty.

Just thinking, sleeping, and staring at the wall across from your bed.

A solid knock on your door was the first human sound that hadn’t been made by you in over forty-eight hours. You’d not looked at your phone or any communications since locking yourself inside, and there was a good chance someone from the squad had come searching for you after such a long period without seeing or hearing from you. When you refused to answer right away, another harder knock banged on the door twice and rattled the steel in its doorframe. Impatient. Testy. Quite familiar with everything you’ve been through lately. Recognizing the Lieutenant was the one outside made your gut churn all over again. Questioning whether to get up or not wasn’t hard. Laying perfectly still in bed, you waited. If you were being honest though, it’d been a long time since you’d spent so long restricting yourself from basic needs for the purpose of acting like a living phantom. Close to three years since any sniper position had left you utterly abandoned without resources. Only this time it was self-induced and nothing short of a trauma response you wanted to hide away from. Truthfully you couldn’t tell if walking to the door was an easy feat or not. After not drinking anything, using the bathroom wasn’t necessary and the last time you’d stood up didn’t cross your memory clearly.

Ghost slammed his fist against the door again one last time. But he didn’t wait long enough for you to answer before rattling the handle to the door with a heavy sigh that was audible through the cracks separating you. Metal on metal gritted softly and moved the door handle a bit further. Recognizing that as nothing short of Ghost picking the lock to your quarters without the slightest care of how he’d be breaking multiple stipulations laid out for them living in HQ. Either your physical or mental state kept you from giving a damn when the handle gave way fully, leaving a bright fluorescence light flooding in from the hallway into your pitch-black room. It made your eyes water and the urge to turn your head away was strong enough to budge your head into the blankets and pillow surrounding. Heavy boots made the paperwork scattered on the floor crunch softly and the sound of his deep breaths gave away his current state of frustration. Clearly not appreciating being locked out of a room that he had no fucking business being in. A long pause led to shuffling around, and the sound of your desk chair creaking under his weight.

“Gonna say somethin’?” He sounded no less irritated than the last time you’d spoken.

It made your throat burn to even think you’d allowed his to get in your head so deeply just to utterly rip every last bit of security and respect away from you for no damn reason. Your silence made quite the statement, even if the actual task of speaking hadn’t been a totally voluntary one. You’d not moved your jaw in days at this point.

“You’ve missed five drill sessions, two mandatory meetings, and one phone from General Shepherd.”

Listing off your offenses hardly bothered you. The consequences of this had been fully accepted days ago, and Ghost would have to do a lot more to get you up from this bed. You’d trained for hell, and no matter how badly Ghost had ruined your almost loving and patient view of him there weren’t enough men on the planet to make you get up voluntarily. Drastic… yes. Satisfying to your own pride… undoubtedly. When you didn’t even let out a single breath loud enough for Ghost to hear instead of that instant apology or willingness to appease him… please him even, with that little quip of ‘sir’ ready on your tongue, the Lieutenant was up out of that chair so quickly you heard it roll into the wall behind him hard enough to thud against the drywall.

“Goddamn it Brass, I demand a fuckin’ answer!” His loud bark caught your attention, but the feeling of your blankets being ripped off your body was a far more startling sensation.

Baring you to the cold air of the room, all your body managed was to raise chills on your skin in a feeble attempt to keep you warm or alert you to seek out that heat again. Tension exploded into shocked silence when Ghost didn’t utter more than a sharp inhale after getting one, shadowed glimpse of your body totally frozen on your stomach. You knew it couldn’t look great. Snipers could come back looking like skeletons sometimes after a long mission if they were given the orders to stay put. You’d not been laying nearly long enough for that to be the case, but dehydration was certainly a symptom you were ignoring quite easily, as well as the possibility of some minor pressure ulcers that would linger for a few weeks if you didn’t move soon. Ghost wasn’t as familiar with the sight of how you felt internally. Snipers weren’t commonly used or in collaboration with Task Force 141. You’d been their first real look at how the inner workings moved or didn’t, and much of your personal way of doing things had dispelled or blown away any misguided assumptions they’d made about your skills early on. Viewing a sniper after days of doing literally nothing, of her own free will…? That wasn’t healthy or accepted in general military companies. Lucky Ghost got the front-row seat though.

When you heard his movement next to you, weight pressed down the mattress at your side in the shape of his hands, and a low sigh registered.

“Brass…” Failing to even say something, you wondered if your own assessment of yourself wasn’t accurate. “It’s been five days.” His faltered tone was truthful, and it destroyed your semblance of time that had been misled by the absence of sunlight coming in through your room.

You thought about trying to say something, resolve falling flat when swallowing felt difficult. A gloved hand rested against your thigh and Ghost almost growled again, sounding a lot more like he was resisting the urge to squeeze you hard. Only his fingers traced along your hip and over the curve in your waist with a tense and heavy swallow. He was being gentle beyond your concept of his depth of emotion and understanding. Nearly loving as he paused over your ribcage with another pinched sort of sound. Staying like that for what felt like hours, you struggled to keep yourself awake. It had been a struggle to move your tongue in your mouth, testing what mobility you’d lost in the short term. Only Ghost wasn’t leaving like you expected, and suddenly his voice returned it its normal stature.

“This’s Ghost. Get a bay ready now, I’m bringin’ someone in.” The reverb of his voice crackled in a radio you knew hooked to his vest. A backup short-range alternative in the case that SAT couldn’t be established or wasn’t clear enough to rely on in the field. Apparently, he used it to keep in contact with someone on base. Or multiple people for all you knew.

“Copy Ghost.” A static voice could be heard and quickly the room was pitched back into a silence you wanted to remain in, but Ghost was adamant to keep infracting alone with a whole list of other rules that, for whatever reason, just didn’t fucking matter or apply to him.

His other hand searched around the dark until he found your face resting amongst the fabric of your bed, curling his hand around your head and meticulously lifting you so very slowly away from the bed with his other arm steadying your legs that had also been taken up off the mattress. You’d never touched Ghost once in all the time you’d known him. Understanding that with his sour attitude, there couldn’t be a single chance in Hell that touching him was an acceptable action. Whereas with Soap, Gaz, and even on occasion Price: hugs, handshakes, shoves, and other physical touches were common, Ghost totally ignored all human contact. Maybe Hell had frozen over outside of your quarters for your weak and still motionless body to be lifted up against the Lieutenant’s chest and carried preciously outside of your room into the burning light of HQ. His chest heaved deep and quickly against you. Both hands curled around you and flexed tighter each time you were able to hear another set of shoes approaching closer to you. Possessive like a soldier. Silent like a Ghost. Determined.

He takes you straight to the medical hall where three nurses and two of the on-shift doctors are fast to respond to your condition. Only Ghost refuses to let them take you away from him for any reason. Stoically stonewalling them just like he habitually did to you as they begged him to lay you down on a transport bed so they could take you back to a room for assessment. The Lieutenant took you there himself, with the group of nurses and doctors hot on his heels and surrounding your bed once Ghost had you settled down inside a private room.

The whole place smells sterile and like alcohol. It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but these are far different circumstances. You’re still too sensitive to open your eyes, but hands are all over your body, gloves fingers touching around the sore places on weight-bearing points on your body, pricks in your fingertips, and a needle poke to the back of your hand. It’s overstimulating, to say the least, and you’re worried they’re going to think you’ve tried to starve yourself to death or decided that living altogether wasn’t worth it and simply wasting away into your bed was the solution. Right away, one of the voices of the medical professionals breaks that worry in your mind by calling for some of the tests to be staggered, needing time between them for nothing other than your own benefit.

“Treat this no differently than prolonged active reconnaissance,” The female voice states softly. “Being on-the-gun for this long is detrimental to all senses, and she’s going to need a while to wake up in a meaningful way.” She added, voice coming clearer the closer she got to your head.

“You’ve been working very hard, I suspect. Maybe not in the field… but you’re one tough lady.” She commented to you quite personally, her hand falling to your shoulders. “We’re going to get you plenty of fluids and start you on a vitamin drip to get everything running as it should again. You’ve also got some slight bedsores, but as long as we take care of them now, you’ll be right as rain soon, sniper.”

Tests were run, treatments began, and nurse after nurse was brought in with both doctors running rotations in and out of your room for the rest of the night. All of them were under the hard watch of Ghost who’d not moved from his position sitting in the corner of your room where he could see not only you but anyone approaching the door. He’d been very quiet throughout the process, watching and waiting for someone to give him some news about your condition with actual certainty. Stewing over the guilt he felt knowing damn well he was the reason you’d shut down so far and were still unable -or unwilling- to come out of it yet. You’d been nothing but the perfect little woman, doing her job with skill and grace, making everyone around you happier just with one glance in your direction. But fuck, he couldn’t stand seeing someone do the callous profession of killing people with one single squeeze of her finger and still have so much innocent and emotional humanity inside such a small body. Ghost couldn’t wrap his mind around it. So instead of trying to do the right thing and figure it out, he did what a man so out of touch with empathy did: Try to snuff it out.

You threatened him whether you or he realized it in the beginning.

But now he could see it with that crystal fucking clear hindsight. How monstrous he was for punishing you with no foundation other than his own selfish fear of seeing a dynamic he didn’t know was possibly wrapped up inside of you. Sweet and little you, never saying anything to him other than a ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’. Goddamnit Ghost knew he’d nearly killed you in a way. Seeing days of neglect in your sallow expression, darkened under eyes, and weakened body was more than even his cold heart could take all at one time. Wasting away for someone as useless as himself, all because he’d never given you enough credit for finding something worth liking in him where no one else had. Screaming at you. Cursing your existence. Right in your face, while he’d been too big of a pussy to even take off his own mask he hid behind every day as he utterly destroyed your meaningful position and life working alongside of his and his squad. Owing you his life wouldn’t nearly cover his offenses. Laughably, Ghost admitted his own life or death couldn’t measure up to yours. So instead of saying any kind of bullshit apology, he sat in the corner of your room and denied himself sleep, food, and water because there wasn’t anything else he could do until you’d been considered healthy and strong again.

Almost one week to the day you had been signed off for return to duty with zero restrictions. Your physical and mental evaluations came back clean, and with both Price and Ghost signing off on the doctor’s orders, you returned to your quarters where you expected to see your room exactly as you’d left it before Ghost brought you into the medical wing. Only nothing was as you’d left it. All the paperwork left on the floor was gone, as well as the other documents that had been left on your desk that still needed finishing. All of it was gone. Your bed and all of the bedclothes you’d been taken from were also missing. Replaced with totally brand new bedding in dark hues of dark green and navy blue with a decidedly feminine pattern on the quilt. Items you didn’t own. Or have any idea where they came from. Even the smell of stale air was traded for a woody, and familiar smell that wasn’t of a candle, or room spray; It was from a person. The person who sat in the corner of your room in your desk chair with his massive arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes staring at you through the painted visage of a skull gracing a black compression mask.

“Sir,” You greet hoarsely, still working through some of the non-significant parts of your recovery that lingered. Ghost stood from his seat and met you halfway across your room with a silent nod, his hand reaching out and motioning for you to step closer to him. Warily but complicit, you make the few steps forward and watch his hand turn to slide against your jaw and stay there firmly. “I expected you to be at drill.” You say with a tinge of surprise at the touch of his bare hand resting against your cheek.

“Should be,” He replied flatly. “But I’m not.” You nod a little, biting your tongue when his fingertip rubs over the curve of your ear. His eyes were soft and his unarmored physique was highlighted by the shadows made by the lamp on your side table. He’s inspecting you, you know as much. Clear by his thumb pressing over your pulse point and the minute exactly that he waits before speaking again.

“Do you like the color green?” His question knocks you off guard and his eyes slide over the quilt laying neatly over your bed. You were quick to answer honestly out of mere habit.

“Yes, sir.”

His hand stiffens against your cheek, and Ghost takes another step closer. His boots graze the tips of yours and his chin is nearly tucked against his chest to look down at you properly. You’re breathing a little harder, anticipating another break of his patience and an onslaught of screaming all directed at your apparent mistakes made right in front of his face. Judgments you’d still be unable to solve no matter how much you thought about it or what you did to try and find a solution of healthy -or not- motives. Ghost doesn’t yell though. He actually lowers his face down to yours, eyes locked right on you and an intensity burning there.

“Why do you call me that?” His low growl made you shiver, especially when his hand dropped lower to your throat. Now squeezing, but holding your gaze steady on him, reminding you of his strength. The power over you he’d always held, and given you the instant to call him ‘sir’ in the first place. Everything about Ghost was overwhelming, and you’d always been one wave away from drowning under him.

“You deserve the honor…” You answer, certain. Even if he’d broken your spirit and came back in the aftermath with questions you still believed to be much too complex for a single-sentence answer. Hopefully, he understood a little bit better but the way you leaned against his hand, letting him actually feel the pressure of your throat pressing into his palm. Literally offering your trust in him over again, testing the Lieutenant and watching as his eyes widened. His other hand came up to your face, counteracting the pressure you’d applied to keep your breath and blood flow uninterrupted. His face is still only inches away from yours but unflinching at the close contact.

“Brass,” He murmured, masked face teasing closer with his own lack of control. “I’m not what you think I am.” Your chest tightens with his words, soaked in desperation that heats your lips and cheeks.

“What’s that, sir?” You question, earning another flinch of his fingers against your skin.

“Safe… Trustworthy… Honorable.” He replies, getting even closer. The smooth material ghosted over your lips, and his breathing fanning over you wetly through the damp material. You sigh, feeling lightheaded. Weak in his hands, confused yet happy to have your life held in the palms of his hands. Confused about where his mistrust comes from, but gaining perspective every time he flinches when you address him in the way you always believed he’d feel the most revered and… loved.

“You’re wrong,” You challenge, hands moving from your sides to run up the thin shirt covering his chest. “You’re a man of fear. One that death shakes at the mention of. Even looking at you through my scope a mile away is enough to remind me you’re capable of inhuman things…” Your voice lowers, hearing thoughts straight from your soul escaping without filter from your brain. “Yet you’re human. So much more than anyone sees. Because it’s not evil that keeps you going. It’s the fear and hatred of losing anything that means something to you.” Your hand rests over his chest, hearing his heart thundering against his ribs.

“You’re not a monster, you are terrified of losing everything. That is why I call you ‘sir’, is because you’re a man unlike any other, Ghost.”

Hearing your own voice say his name like that feels so foreign. Coming off your tongue with the letters not fitting together in a way that you’d experienced. But Ghost… he reacts differently. His hands tightened around you and he hugged you against his chest tightly. His chest heaves up and down and the thunder of his heartbeat impossibly quickens until your left ear can’t hear anything but the repetitive thrum of blood coursing through his body. Heavy arms snake around you, one around your head to secure it to him and the other clinging to your waist with his hand fisting into your shirt until it’s skin-tight on your stomach. The Lieutenant practically shakes against you, using your much smaller frame to steady himself.

Yet he’s dropping to one knee on the ground, bringing you down with him until he’s nearly cradling you and softly rocking your weight back and forth. Soothing himself in much the same way a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and the tears have begun to dry up. God, it made the massive man feel so weak; much like you did after he’d yelled at you a week ago. Both of you kneeled on the floor now with all of your wounds opened up to each other and had silently found a calm within the eye of a destructive storm that had been raging against the pair of you while everyone on the outside had been simply looking on with bated breath to see how the ending would play out.

“Brass - I…” Ghost’s voice choked up again, his arms tightening around you. “God, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t ignore you anymore… I’m losing my mind.”

You lean into his chest harder, arms struggling to reach all the way around his wide back in an attempt to support him a little bit. You understood through the way he was grabbing at anything on you he could desperately. So you did all you could and rubbed your hand up and down his back quietly allowing him the time to work through his thoughts. Both of you had been hurt by this, and while the Lieutenant’s form of apology came in the way he’d ushered you for help when you needed it most and unquestionably been the reason behind the way your quarters looked. Now it was you, cradling a man who’d never shown a single crack in his armor, feeling the weight of so many emotional wounds that he was practically bleeding out with pain and palpable regret.

“You don’t have to…” You whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Ghost just nods his head, panting heavily and giving a low sort of whine. “I’m so sorry…”

You smile sadly. “I’m sorry too.”

His eyes soften more, blinking away at wetness brimming at his waterline. “Say it again… please. I need to hear it. God, please.”

“It’s okay…” Your hands cradle his cheeks, feeling the sharp lines and hard muscles. “I’m right here, Ghost. We’re going to do this over again… Together, Ghost.”

Nodding weakly, he meets your gaze as you say his name again. Reveling in it. “Together… together, with you.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

[sp00kymulderr]

Rise

Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+. Jackson Joel, Touch starved Joel, Lonely old man Joel. Too much religious imagery. Feelings, feelings, feelings. References to sex. Unedited.

Words: 700~

Summary: You are a brightness, Joel is the undeserving dark.

He hadn’t meant to stare, he really hadn’t.

The thing is, you were just so mesmerizing. The way you laughed and the way you danced and the way you could shine so bright in a world he had rarely known to be anything but cruel.

Jackson brought that out of people, Joel recognised that. The ability to let go finally, to live for more than survival. You had been half the bright star you are now when you first arrived; wary and traumatised. He knew those feelings well. Why had he held on to them for so much longer than anyone else?

You were like the antithesis to him: easy to know, easy to love, creating something out of the nothing your life had once been. You were well liked. Joel liked you more, he thought, but people saw you as someone they could talk to.

Tommy often told Joel he was respected in Jackson, appreciated. But it was never the same. He doesn’t have that glow, that brilliance. People know him. No one knows him. Not since Ellie had started to grow away from him, started to doubt him more…

No, not now. Those thoughts aren’t for now.

Right now, this moment, is for reverence. How had this happened? He had been staring more than he should last night at The Tipsy Bison. How had that lead you to be in his bed this morning? He could barely remember; the night a blur of things he didn’t think he should have been allowed to see. He had bought you a drink, you had given him a dance. And then more, and more. You had given him so much more.

Joel is staring again, your resting form so resplendent in the early morning light. So…divine…there’s no other word for it. You were made to be worshiped, he’s sure of it. Being of blazing light brought down to shine on his dimmed world.

When was the last time he had been touched before you? God, he truly doesn’t remember. Certainly not the way you touch; softness of your fingers paving the way for a needy grip on him, he wouldn’t forget that touch. He had been craving it for too long, imagining. Thought upon thought of what a thing your touch could be but he was never prepared for the reality of it.

Joels own hands find their way to you, fingers skimming the bare skin of your lower back. Unworthy. So defiant that his unworthy hands - so rough from years of wear - should get to lay a place on your body.

The word repeats again and again. Unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy.

And yet last night you had told him in the silken whisper of your moans and pleas. Worthy. Worthy. Worthy.

His calloused hand travels its way slowly up the path of your back. A pilgrimage across a body meant for more than him. The rise and fall of your breath breathes fresh air in to the staleness of his home.

Of his heart.

What did he do to deserve this? What mistake did you make to let him have this?

Grey and alone and aching in ways that go beyond physical. But you were the one who kissed him first. You were the first to touch, to feel where he had not been felt in longer than he knew.

Joel leans slowly across to you. Those harsh fingers of his trailing down the curve of your waist. He dares to plant a pious kiss to your shoulder. Surely soon you’ll wake and realise the mistake?

“Joel” You moan. A soft little thing that makes his heart jump. The same way you’d spoke it last night while he’d had you on his lap, when he’d told you to come and you had like he should have any say in anything you did.

Fuck. He is undeserving of all of this but his greedy heart wants more. Hungry mouth wants to take you apart on it over and over again. Eager fingers itching to feel their way around every beautiful, delicate crook of your body.

He breathes your name back. You turn to him. Surely now is the time you tell him it was wrong. Now…

Joel’s breath catches as you turn to face him, pull him to you. He practically trembles as your lips meet again.

This can’t last forever. He doesn’t deserve it.

It means too much.

He means too little.

You kiss him again. He feels the glow of you everywhere.

This can’t last forever, he reminds himself.

#Joel Miller x Reader #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller smut #Pedro Pascal Character fiction #pedrostories #idk dudes I wrote this on the train it came out of nowhere it’s probably ooc as fuck but I felt it in my soul

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

[chrisevansonly]

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion

𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3

Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.

You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.

So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.

“my love…?”

His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole

“hmm?”

It might not have been a word but Charles would take it

“can I get you anything? do you need something?”

The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet

“y-you please”

Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him

“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”

“it-it hurts”

“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.

“it’s hard to be here”

Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him

“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”

He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek

“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”

Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone

“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”

“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”

Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying

“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face

“pinky promise baby, always.”

Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.

Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x wife reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

[gentrychild]

An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.

------------------------

When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.

He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.

At least, he tried to.

Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.

''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''

And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.

Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.

''You're not eating?''

Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.

Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.

“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.

The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.

“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.

“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.

And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.

All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?

And actually, why wait?

“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.

All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.

All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.

“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”

Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.

It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.

Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.

“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”

Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.

 “Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.

#I hope you see this Anon #anyone fic #anyone au

[cupid-styles]

Can we pls get a period or sick blurb? Maybe for grumpy h? I miss them

yes!!!! (I have a sugar daddy h sick blurb too but I literally can't find it for the LIFE OF ME.........but it exists somewhere hahahahah)

word count: 900

content warnings: none! just period/blood mentions

read the original grumpy h series here

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N seriously can't believe this is happening right now. 

On top of finals, grading an influx of drafts and papers for Professor Donnolly's class, and generally trying to survive the end of the semester, she excused herself from her TA lecture when she felt a slight cramping in her lower stomach. She wasn't due to get her period for another few days, but apparently, her body decided now was the right time for it to happen — so now she's panicking, sitting on a toilet in the single-use bathroom stall, cramping and bleeding.

She left her bag back in the lecture hall so she doesn't have a pad or tampon on hand, but that's not even the worst part — when she looks down at her underwear, there's a substantial blood stain that leaked through the seam of her jeans, too. 

With her heart thumping in her chest, she feels tears begin to prickle at the back of her eyes. She's being silly, she knows that; she's had her period for years, but with the position she's found herself in, she can't go back to her job, and her boyfriend is sitting back in the classroom, probably wondering why she's been gone for so long. 

She sniffles and grabs her phone from her pocket, quickly pulling up her text thread with Harry. It's embarrassing to have to explain the situation, but he's obviously the only person she trusts to go to. 

To: H🌷 

hey I got my period and I dont have any pads or anything w me rn would u hate me if I asked u to bring me one from my bag?

Glancing at the time, there's still an hour left of the lecture, so she's not sure if her request will even come to fruition. (When Donnolly has students do individual or group work, they're always swarming around Harry and asking him for help, but that's an entirely different situation.) Her leg is shaking nervously as she contemplates stuffing some of the single-ply toilet paper into her underwear, serving as a makeshift pad just until she can escape back to the bathroom with a tampon. She's just about to do it when she hears a knock at the door, followed by a hushed call of her name. Immediately, she recognizes it as Harry's voice.

"H?" she whispers. She hears a chuckle and her eyebrows furrow, confused by his lighthearted tone. 

"There's no one else in here, silly girl," he says, and she swears she can hear the smirk in his voice, "I brought you a pad and a tampon. I saw you had both in your bag."

"Oh. Okay, thank you, you can just slide them under the door."

Harry snorts. "You can open the door, baby. I'm not scared of your period."

"Yeah, but it's gross. And I'm sitting on the toilet."

"Didn't anyone tell you that having a period is natural?" 

She shrugs, contemplating. "No. I guess not."

"Open the door so I can give these to you, pretty girl."

She huffs and leans forward to undo the latch. Harry laughs at the scowl on her face and shakes his head, handing both the pad and tampon to her.

"I'll wait until you're done."

She nods, secretly grateful as how casual he's being, and locks the door again. She's quick to clean herself up as best as she can before putting a tampon in. After she gets rid of the trash, she walks out of the stall and washes her hands. 

"Y'okay?"

She glances at him through the bathroom mirror, where he's standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks protective, as if he's ready to defend her from anything, even if it's her own anatomy. 

"I just have really bad cramps right now," she replies quietly, drying her hands with a paper towel. "I think I bled a little through my jeans too."

His face forms a pout, striding towards her to wrap her form in his arms. "Poor baby." 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head as she buries her face into his chest, reveling in the warmth of his body. Their hug is over far too soon for his taste and he chuckles lightly at the sulky look on her face. 

"This should be big enough to cover your cute little bum," he murmurs, pulling his sweatshirt up and over his torso. Her cheeks redden and he smirks as he helps tug it over her own form. "You need anything else? You can head back to mine if you wanna nap in my bed."

She shakes her head quickly, "No. I can't miss any more of the lecture."

"Baby, I'm sure it's fine. I'll tell Donnolly you're not feeling well."

"I'm on my period, it's not the flu."

Harry snickers and intertwines their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze. "When did you get so sassy? Remember when you were my sweet, quiet girl?"

She rolls her eyes, "I still am."

"Sure you are," he smirks, "Seriously, though, will you please just go rest at my place? It's not a big deal and I know you like to nap when you're on your period."

She does, and she can't deny the fact that laying in Harry's cozy bed sounds pretty incredible right now. Reluctantly, she agrees, and he grins as he hands her his house key. 

"I'll come meet you when class is over, alright? I'll bring your bag and everything."

She wonders how she got so lucky with Harry.

#bestie asks #writing #grumpy h #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff

[senseandaccountability]

“Is this truly our prodigal son?” - meta ramblings about Astarion and Cazador and breaking vicious cycles

“I didn’t have a choice… but it seems now I do.” Astarion is indeed the prodigal son in the sense that he has to return to his home in order to find himself and his purpose. 

For at least half the game, he is - at least outwardly - what he has been made to be. A pretty facade to be consumed. In the mirror he doesn’t see himself, he remembers nothing of his past, he can’t even read the words etched into his own back - he is, in all aspects, unwritten, unmade until he starts walking back into his own life. Reclaiming it. Or rather - remaking it. Because there is nothing sustainable there to reclaim, his heritage from Cazador contains nothing but death and violence. And power built on those two ingredients. Even when he claims that’s what he wants - power, walking in the sun, to never be afraid of anyone again, you can hear how hollow the desire is. Isn’t this what you want for me? he asks Tav, equal parts manipulation and the fact that he probably has no idea whatsoever how to figure out if he wants something like that for himself. He’s never had the luxury of choice. Shouldn’t I want this? When Tav later says that considering slaughter of seven thousand spawns isn’t who Astarion truly is he doesn’t even say she’s wrong, he replies: IT SHOULD BE.

“If I can’t have my freedom, then neither can they.”

Astarion is also, to use the same religious myth, the son who remained behind and keeps count. He counts the injustices done to him, he compares, he gathers bitterness and lust for revenge over two hundred years. Nobody ever did anything to help him. Nobody came to his rescue - he even says so himself early in the game that no hero saved him, it was the mindflayers who did. He admits to Gale that he’s prayed to all deities - but no one answered. When Tav prods about the countless of spawn he’ll sacrifice for his own ritual he brings up the same argument - what about what he’s owed? Everything was taken from him, too!

“You’d almost feel sorry for the poor, deluded souls. But they’re idiots who brought this on themselves, so… don’t.” 

Astarion doesn’t want to identify with the victims because then he has to identify as a victim. (Or even worse, someone who willingly accepted the offer of a vampire, aka idiot who brought this on himself.) And no matter how much he talks about what Cazador put him through, he’s not ready to do that, not fully. Instead he pushes them further away from himself, especially as his guilt and pain and self-loathing gets poured into preparing for the Ascension. That one thing that will finally separate him from everyone else, make him safe and untouchable. The others, the victims, they’re weak, pathetic, nothing like him at all, they’re too far gone, they’re different, they couldn’t survive out there so it’s better he kills them so they serve a purpose. It’s not exactly subtext, either, Tav can outright ask him if he really intends to kill them just because they remind him of himself and his voice breaks when he answers that. “They do not. That weakness inside me is dead. It’s dead. I have a higher purpose.” He comes a little bit closer to breaking out of his cycle with the Gur children, they happened not that long ago, he’s visibly moved by the fact that he had forgotten them and felt nothing when he delivered them and when Tav asks about his feelings on the subject, he admits: “I just… I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.”

But it takes the encounter with Cazador to truly break out of the pattern.

“Did I not make you who you are?” “Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?” he snaps at Astarion when you first enter his ritual. And when the camera pans to Astarion, so full of rage and fully intent on killing Cazador with his bare hands if he has to, we see that he actually does slouch. He’s that boy again.

He’s returned, the boy who caused so much trouble, who screamed the sweetest when he was tortured, who was thrown into a tomb for a year for refusing his order and who eventually stopped fighting back. Godey says: “You always were sharp, little one. Sharp enough to cut yourself.” The boy who Cazador tried to make something of, but to no avail. He was incorrigible. “I fondly remember your empty boasting, your tired jokes, your endless prattle…” All abuse aside, Cazador hurts Astarion in that precise way only a parental figure can hurt a child - through constant disappointment, the cruelty of not caring. The parent that only punishes, that sees nothing but faults. He even tells Astarion that he ought to be begging their forgiveness for coming crawling back after abandoning them. “Forgiveness? You’ve never forgiven anything.” / “No! No, fuck you and fuck everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“I’m so much more than what you made me,” Astarion tells Cazador when he finally has him on his knees, one last attack away from getting the revenge he’s dreamed of for two hundred years. When he asks Tav for help he - again - brings up the “isn’t this what you want?” Because even if he knows he’s more than what Cazador created him to be, he doesn’t know what that “much more” consists of yet. If you detect his thoughts at that moment you learn that he’s afraid, hungry, intoxicated. That all he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom to do anything - to be anything.

“I want you to live a life you’re proud of,” Tav pleads. “You can’t be proud of this.” Tav who sees someone else in him, a way forward that isn't steeped in Cazador's tyranny. Tav, who treats him like a person, with autonomy.

“I know you think this will set you free, but it won’t. The power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador.” And it was this Astarion required to truly remake his life. Returning as the prodigal son to the place that was his home, where he was taught he amounted to nothing, that he was a means to an end, that the only way to ever feel safe in life is to hold power over someone else. 

That’s why I found his “No! No, fuck you and fuck everything you’ve done to me” so powerful, because it’s it’s much more than an insult or a protest. It’s an acknowledgement that you were hurt and that you didn’t deserve it. 

And by extension here - that you’ve hurt others in turn and they didn’t deserve it, either. That perhaps you are just the same as the weak, pathetic spawn in the dungeons. That perhaps we all are. That perhaps the true power lies in daring to hope. For forgiveness, for understanding, for more people out there to have a heart like Tav’s. That you, if you’re given a chance to make choices for yourself, can make a life you can feel proud of. Even if it means you have to let others see your shame. To care again is to live again, like Tav says while they're exploring casa Cazador. And Astarion wants to feel alive.

When you can make Astarion realise he can be better than Cazador, he immediately shows  protectiveness towards the spawn, telling his siblings to lead them to the Underdark and then telling the truth to the Gur but making sure to point out that if they come hunting - they’re hunting their own children. Cazador’s been dead for a couple of minutes and Astarion is already doing a better job as some sort of wretched father figure for these poor souls. Because he's given them freedom to make their own choices, treated them as equals. Shown them the care nobody ever showed him before. That's how you break cycles and pack one hell of an emotional punch. Fuck you and fuck everything you’ve done to me, indeed.

#bg3 spoilers #astarion #lilith plays baldur's gate 3

[steddieas-shegoes]

more than everything else

For @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘proposal’ wc: 999 rated m cw: suggestive language | tags: domestic fluff, sappy and romantic

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍

“Steve! Freezer’s working again!” Eddie yelled from his spot on the floor behind their previously defunct freezer.

Eddie insisted he could fix it himself, hence the hours he’d spent on the floor with tools that weren’t doing anything and a lip bitten until it bled.

“Told you if you took your shirt off it would work faster,” Steve said from the doorway, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Eddie being half naked.

Sweat dripping down his chest.

A bruise forming on his side where he’d dropped a wrench on himself earlier.

His newest tattoo peeling because he’d forgotten to put Vaseline on it earlier.

“I always listen to you, sweetheart,” Eddie smirked as he stood up. “You got any plans later?”

“I actually do remember something on the calendar.”

Eddie walked over to him, covered Steve’s hands with his own and rocked him side to side. “Damn.”

“Why? You wanna make plans?” Steve raised a brow.

“I thought I could get a reward for all my hard work today,” Eddie pouted his bottom lip out, eyes widening as he leaned further into Steve’s space. “Maybe in the bedroom?”

“Reward? For fixing the freezer that you broke?”

“I seem to remember someone saying that the freezer was just ‘old’ and that this ‘could’ve happened to anyone.’ Or am I mistaken?” Eddie let go of Steve’s hands but stayed close to him.

“I’m not sure who said that. I do remember someone saying that if you turned it down too far for too long, it would break, though. Maybe you can recall who said that?” Steve leaned in to peck his lips softly, teasing just a little with his fingers along the waistband of Eddie’s pants. “Seems like a smart guy.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. At least the guy who broke it could fix it.”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve backed away. “Now. I’ve got baked chicken spaghetti in the oven for dinner and I made cookies earlier if you-“

“Marry me.”

Steve froze, his eyes widened.

Maybe Eddie could’ve been more eloquent, more romantic.

Shit, maybe he could do that still.

He reached for Steve’s hands, smiling softly at him as his eyes darted between Eddie’s, searching for him to say that it was a joke.

“I’m serious.” Eddie kissed his forehead before continuing. “You think I survived the hell of ‘86 to not end up with Steve Harrington? You think I’ve spent nearly every day of the last six years trying to be the best partner you could ask for, the kind you deserve? You make me wanna be more than everything else.”

“What-“

Eddie shushed him with a kiss. “When I was little, like barely old enough to ride a bike, my mom brought me to a flower shop. She said I had to pick a nice flower for my teacher so she knew I was a sweet kid. I picked a daffodil. She laughed and said ‘you know the love of my life always brought my a daffodil’ and when I asked why dad didn’t bring them to her anymore she said ‘he never did.’ And as I got older I realized what that meant. I never could ask her about it, but I eventually asked Wayne. He said-“ Eddie sniffed, biting his lip trying not to cry. “He said sometimes the love you get isn’t what makes you feel better than everything else, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel more than everything else. And I still didn’t quite get it, ya know? Made no damn sense to me when I was 13. Kinda thought Wayne was high.” Steve laughed, Eddie smiled. “But then I saw you in the cafeteria one day, and I saw the way you held the door open for some of the band kids even though Tommy was teasing you for it. And I saw how much you did for me at my worst, even before you had a reason to, before you knew it would be worth more. I see how you love, and how you keep loving, even when some people may not deserve it. I feel how much you are, how much more you can still be. And how much I wanna be more to be worthy of you. I don’t have much, you know I don’t, but you love me anyway. And you make me wanna be more.”

Steve’s tears were falling rapidly, a sob escaping at the end of Eddie’s words as he fell forward, his tears soaking Eddie’s shirt instantly.

“You’re enough for me,” he finally managed to say against Eddie’s neck. “You’ve always been enough for me. I don’t want more. I just want you.”

“I know, sweet love. I know.” Eddie’s arms tightened around him. “You think you could marry me?”

“Eds. I would marry you every day if we could.” Steve sniffed as he pulled away. “We can’t really do it, though.”

“Maybe not. But we can wear rings, tell everyone. I can call you my husband around the people who love us.”

That was a hell of a thought.

Husbands.

“You’re sure you want that?”

“Of course I am. Who else is gonna fix your freezer when it breaks?”

“Maybe you could try not to break it in the first place.” Steve smacked his shoulder. He kissed him slowly, tongue brushing against his bottom lip but not looking for more. “But I guess it would be nice to have someone around all the time to fix the stuff he breaks.”

“Hey!”

“I love you.”

It was that simple.

“So. My reward?”

“My hand in marriage.” Steve turned away and looked over his shoulder. “And maybe my hand in other places. If you hurry up and shower.”

“I’ll be done in five. Be naked on the kitchen table-“

“Eddie, not-“

“The kitchen table!”

Steve rolled his eyes but threw his shirt to the floor and winked before making his way to the kitchen. “Five minutes!”

#steddieholidaydrabbles #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #proposal

[beesbiteandwillowrites]

DP x DC snippet: "To Whom Do Gods Pray?"

Danny never wanted this.

Right now, he couldn't even tell anyone what he did want. Happiness, probably, whatever that entailed. Snuggle up with Jason in one of those giant armchairs that were scattered around his keep and listen to his love read to him in a soft voice, letting the cadence of his voice lull him to sleep. Fly with him through the Infinite Realms, to the edges where the vast green expanse gave way to countless unexplored galaxies so they could stargaze together. Jump through portals together and explore new dimensions to find the ones that have the best versions of all their favourite foods.

Not sitting at the bedside of his love as Jason teetered on the edge of life and death, balancing on a knife's edge. The heart monitor beeped loudly, too loud, too fast, and Danny didn't think he could ever hear anything else than the sound of Jason's heartbeat as it tried to jump out of his chest.

"Great One," Frostbite said gently. "Your consort is strong, as he has proven time and time again."

Danny wanted to scream. Jason never should have been forced to prove how strong he was. He couldn't help but think of all the times he had been here, sitting at Jason's bedside, as Jason recovered from wounds that had him teetering on the edge, that had almost killed him.

Danny was the Ghost King, the Ruling Monarch of the Infinite Realms. He ruled the dead of any and all dimensions. He had gods kneel in front of his throne, promising their allegiance. And now he was once again powerless, nothing more than someone who prayed their lover would not die.

To whom do gods pray? Who could he ask for guidance when he could bend the fabric of the universe to his will?

"He has a good chance to pull through, Great One," Frostbite said, and Danny swallowed bile.

"When will he wake up?" he asked hoarsely, holding Jason's hand between his own.

"We are working on an antidote for the serum he has been injected with," Frostbite. "Right now, his heart rate will remain stable enough as long as he remains unconscious, but if we wake him, external stimuli will cause the serum's adrenaline response to kick in. We would not be able to guarantee his survival should that happen."

Danny's core thrummed in his chest, feeling like it was about to burst. "How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"A few more days, Great One. Batman used a unique serum. But we will succeed."

Frostbite laid a clawed hand on Danny's shoulder and it felt like it burned him. Danny felt like he was drowning. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hit something, anything. He wanted to hurt the man who hurt his love so much he had put him in this bed more than once before.

Batman.

Fury bubbled up Danny's throat and he almost choked on it. Batman had hurt his love time and time again and Jason had pleaded with Danny every time to let it go. Batman had slit Jason's throat in favour of the mass-murderer that had killed so many, that had so many of Danny's subjects crying out for justice. He had beaten Jason half to death on a rooftop after he had lost his friends, had kept beating him long after Jason stopped fighting back, long after he had lost consciousness. He had brought Jason back to the scene of his murder under false pretences (and Danny would never forgive Batman for all the nights he had to hold Jason through nightmares of his father beating him with a crowbar after that).

And here they were again, with Jason close to death, close to becoming a permanent part of Danny's domain, almost murdered again by the man who he still saw as his father, even after everything, and Danny was drowning in despair.

He needed Jason to wake up.

He needed him.

All Danny could do was hold his hand and pray.

To whom do gods pray when everything else has failed?

#willow's snippets #jason todd #danny fenton #dead on main #we're doing angst tonight #this might become a bigger fic in the future #but right now it's just this #ghost king danny #red hood #batman 138 #shakes fist at dc #y u hurt my boy so? #dc #danny phantom #dp x dc

[bvidzsoo]

Irrevocable Love

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of human trafficking, slight sexism and misogyny, blood

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 28,6k

Summary: Jeong Yunho was always protective of what was his. After his mother's death he stopped living a happy life, his father an alcoholic, his best friend was his only hope. The two of you had grown up together and you couldn't imagine living your life without Yunho, so when he tried to sneak onto the Pirate ship and leave without you, you were beyond hurt. Yunho only wanted to protect you, but he wasn't going anywhere without you. And so, the two of you joined Ateez on their adventures, starting your own love story at the same time. (Reader is called Bae Taeri in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Y'all, this one is a beast of a oneshot, lol. It's really long but I say it's worth it. Yunho's part is one of my favorites, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it. I strongly advise you read the previous parts (especially Jongho, Seonghwa, and San's) since there are many refrences from them (again, especially from San's). If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know, we have three more oneshots left *whew*. And share your thoughts! Enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

            10 years ago

            Our poor seaside village had always been overlooked by everyone. Nobody ever came here, nobody ever brought anything here to help our living situation. So, that forced us to fend for ourselves, to find ways to survive. Families who were a little bit luckier had a small garden where they could cultivate various vegetables and fruits, and to everyone else’s luck, they were generous enough to hand some out to the rest of the village. Most of us, however, were forced to go out on the sea and fish, which wasn’t always the easiest as the sea wasn’t always serene and gentle to the sailors. Everyone seemed to struggle, but you never heard anyone vocalize their struggles, always sucking it up and greeting the day with a smile on their faces, always so nice to their neighbours and people at the market. Nobody wanted their neighbour to know that they haven’t eaten in two days despite the other person being in the same situation, it was shameful. And so, it didn’t come as a surprise that Yunho never said anything about his own struggles at home. Despite being friends for six years now, we’ve never discussed anything that went down at home between our parents or the hardships we had to face daily. If one of us had even a little bit in plus to share, it could be anything, we’d bring it with ourselves when we met up and shared it, as good friends do.

After Yunho’s mother’s death he rarely had anything to bring with himself, his mother used to make very delicious pastry, but I never complained. I understood. Yunho and his father were struggling, it was very clear. His father was a blacksmith and their business hadn’t been doing well for the past two years now, it was his mother’s bakery which brought most of their money to the house and with her gone…I couldn’t help but worry for my best friend’s fate. He was becoming thinner and thinner as days went by, his eyes lacking the light he previously always had in them, and the bags under his eyes were darker than ever. It didn’t take long to figure out that he was struggling, but I knew by now, that trying to pry it out of him did nothing. It only made him close off even more, so I stayed silent. I allowed him space and time; he'd come to me when he felt ready. And, so, it came as a big surprise when I found him sneaking by my house one night, close to midnight. He had a black cloth thrown over his head, as if to hide his identity, and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him through the window of my room. His steps were hurried and his tall frame was slightly hunched, as if to hide his height, and he kept glancing over his shoulder. Was he running from someone? Did he do something forbidden? My head spun with endless possibilities as I quickly grabbed my wool coat and threw it over my frame clumsily, eyes still on Yunho as he got further and further away from my house. He lived just up the hill, a five-minute trek away from my own house. I’ve known him my whole life. He said nothing about going somewhere tonight, so seeing him acting like that gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something didn’t feel right about his demeanour, and I quickly left the house freely, not having to sneak out tonight. Three days ago, a pirate ship decked down, and since our town was quite generous with them, they paid us back with gold and many coins. Four days in a row now, they’ve been drinking away their money at the run-down pub by the old mill, all grown-ups gathering there, men and women alike. Children weren’t allowed to enter the pub, my parents forbidding myself from doing so as well, but that meant we were free to do whatever, while they drank away the night. The wind was harsher tonight as I ran down the hill, trying to catch up with Yunho, who was almost at the end of the dark street, pace quickening as he noticed me, seemingly refusing to wait for me. I wanted to cry out, but couldn’t risk someone catching us, we were supposed to be inside our homes, sleeping. Yunho was headed to the beach, towards the little gulf where the pirates had decked down. My breathing came out in ragged puffs as I sprinted towards him, the sand making it harder to keep a steady rhythm. I had grown up here, yet I never learned to enjoy the sand.

“Yunho!” I called out quietly, the wind carrying my voice over the little waves as I was getting closer to my best friend. He stopped looking over his shoulder, yet seemed to be ignoring me as I called out his name again. I knew he could hear me, so why was he ignoring me? My feet sunk deep into the sand as I tried keeping my curly hair out of my eyes, but the wind was strong down here at the beach, and it left me huffing and puffing as I watched Yunho’s body fall to the ground. I yelped and forgot about how much I hated the sand, sprinting towards him, finally reaching his side. But as I tried to help him up, he yanked his arm out of my hold, standing up on his own, head whipping around. I stared at my best friend wide eyed, confused by his reaction. It was just me, why was he acting like that?

“Yunho—”

“What are you doing here?!” His voice was snappy and I stepped back in shock; he has never spoken to me like that before. His eyes were hard and his eyebrows pulled into a frown. What was happening?

“I’m—I—” I stuttered as Yunho glared at me; his demeanour scary. I’ve never seen him like this, he’s never acted like this towards me, “I saw you through my window and I followed you—”

“You should’ve stayed at home.” Yunho snapped and then turned around, taking off again. His long strides made it hard for me to keep up with him and I kept stumbling forward as my legs tangled together due to the sand, eyes trying to fall on his face, but Yunho kept his head turned away from me.

“You should be at home too—” I huffed, still trying to figure out what the issue at hand was, “What are you even doing out here, Yunho?”

My voice raised and I gripped his wrist tightly, hauling him back, and he hissed, suddenly all up in my face. My heart was hammering as I looked up at my best friend, despite being fifteen, he was already a head taller than me. My hands trembled as he was breathing hard, but I refused to let go of him, I refused to cover under his intimidating gaze. He was always smiling, he was always happy, there was always a glint in his eyes. He always made jokes, and he’d tickle me when I was sad or ignoring him. Yunho was warm and the nicest person I have ever met. He is understanding and considerate. But I could find none of those qualities in the boy standing in front of me, glaring down at me.

“Go back home, Y/N.” He snapped, eyebrows furrowing more as I shook my head, biting my lower lip nervously, “Y/N, go back home.”

Each one of his words was emphasized, but I just shook my head again, breath stuttering when he suddenly shouted, “Go home!”

I wasn’t scared of him; I could never be. I was just confused. I started trembling as I shook my head vigorously, biting my lower lip, Yunho’s starting to tremble the longer I defied his wish.

“Y/N, please—” His voice slightly broke and my eyes widened when I noticed the tears in his eyes, “go back home, I can’t—I can’t leave if you’re here—”

“Leave?!” My voice sounded panicked as my heartbeat picked up again as I gripped his other wrist as well, scared he’d run away again. Yunho nodded, averting his eyes as I yanked on his wrists, pulling him almost into myself, “What are you saying?”

“I—” He gulped as he still avoided eye contact, voice barely a whisper, “I’m leaving with the pirates.”

The crash of the waves against the shore filled the void silence engulfing us, the stars shinning down us brightly, darkness around no matter where you looked. Yunho’s eyes shone as the first tears fell, head fallen forward as he let it rest against the top of my own head, shattering my heart into a million of pieces. Yunho wanted to leave. He wanted to leave me alone. He planned to live a life without me. I couldn’t live without him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” My lips trembled as I managed to say out loud those words, my own tears falling, “You won’t leave me here. Alone.”

“I have to.” Yunho sniffed and suddenly he flipped his hands, grabbing mine as I was still holding onto his wrists, “I have decided, Y/N. I must go—”

“No!” I screamed, raising my head and making Yunho take a step back, eyes wide as he gazed at me surprised, “You can’t leave me here! Do you understand that?! I can’t live without you!”

“Y/N,” He seemed to be in pain as he sniffed again, cupping my cheek with one hand, but I slapped it away, gazing at him with fury, “I promise to visit. I will come back every now and then.”

“You mean to say you’ll come back in ten years?” I snapped, voice hardening as I glared at him, “When I might not even be here? When I might be dead?! You mean to say I will have to live the rest of my life without you? Without knowing whether you’re still alive or not? Whether you’ll ever return to me? Whether you still—still remember me?!”

“How could I forget you?” Yunho’s voice was high pitched as he cupped my cheek, closing the distance between us as I craned my neck up to look at him, new tears falling from his eyes, “You’re my light, Y/N. The beacon in my darkness. I could never forget you—”

“Why are you leaving?” I cut him off, needing a reason. He had to have a good one if he was this desperate to go. Yunho gulped and looked away, almost ashamed, his grip on my cheek loosening, but I quickly placed my own hand over his and squeezed his fingers, his eyes falling back on me.

“I just can’t live here anymore.”

“Not a good enough reason.” I snapped, making Yunho’s eyebrows furrow.

“I just hate this life.” I shook my head again, the reason not good enough. I wouldn’t accept such mediocre issues. I didn’t like my life either, but I didn’t plan on running away with pirates. Who could kill me any second.

“Y/N, what does it matter—”

“Because you plan on leaving me behind and I can’t let you go without a good enough reason!” I snapped, more tears falling from my eyes as Yunho shook his head, the wind blowing his bangs away from his forehead.

“I hate my father.” His voice was quiet as he spoke up with a sigh, eyes falling on the sand between our feet, “He’s always been bad, but ever since mother died…I just can’t deal with him anymore. He’s drunk all day and all night and blames everything on me. He expects me to bring money to the house like my mother did, but I can’t even bake one chocolate chip cookie, Y/N. He’s never taught me his job and I can’t help out at the workshop…give it a few more months and we’ll die from hunger.”

The weight of his words settled between us as I took in a deep breath before exhaling slowly, pulling him into my body, my arms wrapping around his torso tightly. I knew Yunho hated pity, but my heart broke for him. I couldn’t stand seeing him cry, chewing his lower lip as his body trembled from the cold.

“I would never let you die like that, you idiot.” I whispered against his neck and Yunho’s body shook as he laughed quietly, before he started crying hard, “You should’ve told me sooner, Yunho. You know I would’ve helped you. You know my parents would’ve helped.”

“I don’t want anyone’s help, I’m a man—”

“You’re a boy.” I reminded him as Yunho squeezed me against his body, holding the back of my head against his neck, his body cold compared to mine. I had just noticed how thinly he was dressed and it broke my heart. His father never bothered getting him new clothes as winter was approaching.

“Boy or man, I have to fend for myself.” Yunho whispered and slowly pulled back, removing his body from mine, “And if I want to live, I have to leave right now. Without you, Y/N. But I promise you that I will return. And when I do, I promise to be rich, and then we’ll both leave this good for nothing town.”

I shook my head, about to complain as Yunho pressed his lips against my forehead, burning my skin as my eyes blurred with tears. As I reached out for him, he stepped back, and he was gone. He turned his body and started walking away, leaving me in disbelief as my body shook from anger and fear of being abandoned by the only person I loved wholeheartedly.

He was already a few good steps away when my next words bubbled out of me, “I will kill myself!”

I was fifteen. I didn’t know better back at that time, but it felt like my whole world was disappearing the further Yunho walked from me. The purpose to live seemed to dim in me as he sauntered off in the darkness. I felt powerless as he walked away from me.

“I will jump off the cliff tonight if you leave me here, Yunho!” I screamed, body shaking violently as Yunho stopped, body going rigid. It looked as if he wasn’t even breathing anymore, so I continued, “I can’t live without you, and if you leave me here, I will kill myself. I will walk up the hill, past my house and yours, and go to the edge, and jump. I will do it; you know I will. It’s a promise, Yunho. And then you won’t have anyone to return to—”

“Stop!” He screamed back and wheeled around, face ablaze as he stormed up to me, breathing quickly, “Stop this non-sense right now!”

“You know I will do it.” I challenged him, glaring up at my best friend.

“You’re crazy.” Yunho whispered speechless, searching my face for a tell-sign that I was joking. But I wasn’t. I meant every word I have just said.

“I can’t live without you.” I repeated for the nth time tonight, making Yunho shake his head in despair as he suddenly gripped my arm, hold careful, and started walking, pulling me after him. I said nothing as I kept up with him, ignoring the way the sand still made me stumble, eyes never leaving the side of Yunho’s face as he gazed ahead determined, grip slightly tightening as if he was afraid I’d rip myself away from him. But I would never do that. My heart was beating fast as I realized we were walking towards the water, towards the pirate ship. Yunho remained quiet as he gave me one final glance, a silent question in his eyes if I truly wanted this. Wherever he went, I followed. Whatever he did, I followed. So, I nodded my head firmly, and we walked inside the water, taking our unsure future in our hands for the first time.

Our fifteen-year-old selves remained clueless as to when the ship sailed off, hidden away behind some barrels in a chamber which looked like a kitchen, Yunho and I had assumed it was one since it had a stove. Our small and lanky bodies huddled close together, Yunho’s hand holding onto my arm the whole night, as if he was scared someone would snatch me away from him. But nobody did. Despite being on an unknown ship with pirates, we slept through the night smoothly, the clanking of loud dishes the only thing which woke us up. My eyes were wide as I stared at Yunho, who’s face held no emotion as he carefully peeked out from behind the barrel, surveying our surroundings. By the sound of it, there was only one man in the kitchen beside us, and I relaxed when Yunho nodded at me reassuringly, leaning down to whisper something in my ear. But our false security was quickly gone as a strong grip on my arm yanked me to my feet, away from Yunho, who sprung up after me, taking a hold of my other arm. I stared up at the scary looking old man, who’s grip was very painful, scared for my life. Perhaps this was the day we’d die.

“Let go of her.” Yunho’s voice held no fear as he stared the old man down, eyes ablaze as he tried tugging me close to himself. The old man just chuckled and looked behind him, where the man who was washing the dishes watched us amused.

“Two children,” The old man chuckled, “what are you doing on my ship?”

“Are you the Captain?” Yunho asked, eyebrows raising. The old man said nothing as he nodded, a curious glint in his eyes as he looked at me before looking back at Yunho.

“I’ll only ask once more before I throw you to the sharks, what are you doing on my ship, children?” I gulped, heart in my throat as I looked at Yunho panicked, trying to tug my arm free from the painful grip of the Captain, but it did nothing. Yunho noticed the discomfort on my face and stepped closer to me, squaring up to the Captain as he pulled his shoulders back, wanting to seem taller and stronger than he was.

“We got bored of our old lives, Captain,” He spoke with determination, the glint I have missed back in his eyes, “And we wanted to start anew. What better way than a pirate ship?”

“If you think I’m going to take you on the adventure of your lifetime, kid, you’re very wrong.” The Captain rolled his eyes and released my arm, pushing me, making me fall into Yunho. He caught me easily and glared at the Captain as he cradled me against his chest, shielding my view of the scary man as he buried my face in his chest. My heart skipped a beat.

“We’re not here for the adventure, Captain, we’re here to work. To do something with our lives. Anything’s better than living in that God forsaken town,” Yunho sighed, his confidence still shining through, “You have seen it with your own eyes.”

The Captain hummed and after a beat of silence, I heard him speak up, “So, you want to work?”

Yunho nodded eagerly and I managed to nod as well, forcefully pulling my head away from Yunho’s chest as he tried to keep me still, “We don’t want to be a burden. You can teach us anything and we’ll do as you say, Captain.”

The Captain chuckled, but I could see his eyes softening a bit. Yunho has always had charm, all the elders loved him back in our town. Every kid wanted to be his friend. I shrunk a bit against Yunho as the Captain’s black eyes fell on me this time, eyebrows furrowing, “You’re a girl.”

I nodded, scared of what would happen next to me. I knew I was at a disadvantage here, but I also knew Yunho would never let anyone touch me or harm me. I was safe with him. The Captain’s eyebrows furrowed even more, and suddenly, he raised his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly, making my ears ring. The other pirate who had been washing the dishes quickly left the room and suddenly we heard two pairs of footsteps thudding down the hallway loudly. I felt my heart pick up again and bit my lower lip as I held onto Yunho’s arm so tightly it was probably restricting his blood flow, but he said nothing as he held me back just as tightly. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and two boys walked in. They were young, perhaps around our age, both shorter than Yunho as they walked to each side of the Captain. They looked nothing alike, yet the one with cat-like eyes resembled the Captain an awfully lot. Yunho and I glanced at each other as the Captain ruffled the two boys’ hair and then looked at us with a big smile, suddenly looking friendly, the scary man gone.

“These are Hongjoong and Seonghwa,” The Captain said cheerfully as my eyes fell on the boy to his left, who’s eyes were big and his plump lips were pulled into a warm smile, “You two look to be the same age as my boys.”

“Your boys…” Yunho repeated quietly, slightly relaxing against me, my grip leaving his arm as I detached myself from Yunho, suddenly embarrassed, and stood straight up next to him.

“My sons.” The Captain clarified and then looked at me again, “If you truly want to stay on the ship with us, you won’t have an easy life as a girl.”

I sucked in a harsh breath, finally being hit with the harsh truth. A ship. Full of pirates. Of men. And I was a girl. I shuddered and circled my arms around my torso, feeling very uneasy as I saw the two sons glance at each other before their eyes fell on me. Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and he stepped in front of me, glowering at the Captain’s son whose eyes were cat-like as his eyes seemed to remain on me for longer, “I will kill anyone who dares touch her.”

The Captain’s laughter was loud as it echoed around us and his son cracked a smile, meanwhile the other one looked concerned for a second as his eyes found mine. He looked very nice, and soft; it was weird that he made me feel safe so fast.

“You can’t even lift a sword, son.” The Captain said once he was done laughing, and then grabbed his son’s shoulder, the one that looked nothing like him, and nudged him forward. He glanced back at his father before his eyes fell on me again and he smiled at Yunho warmly as he stepped closer, extending his hand for me.

“I’m Seonghwa, nice to meet you.” His voice was velvety and he was very polite, if we met in any other circumstance, I would’ve never said he was a pirate.

“My name is Y/N.” I said as I shook his hand, lightly pushing Yunho out of the way. He didn’t like it as he watched us closely, but said nothing.

“Seonghwa will take care of you, Y/N,” The Captain said and Seonghwa nodded obediently, “he’ll give you some clothes and help you figure out how to make you look like a man. I don’t mind having you on my ship at all, but you should keep your true identity a secret if you want to be safe. I can’t promise you anything if you decide to stay.”

I looked at Yunho upon hearing the Captain’s words and he turned his head to look at me, determination coating his gaze. I nodded at him and he sighed, jaw clenching, and I knew he was worried about me. About how we were going to pull this off.

“Your hair is really pretty.” Seonghwa suddenly spoke up and as he extended a hand to touch one of my copper curls, Yunho’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist, the other son, Hongjoong, jumping forward and holding a small dagger to Yunho’s neck. I gasped as I looked at the three boys, feeling helpless as I was the cause of it.

“Stop it, Yunho.” I whispered as I stared at the dagger at his neck, heart beating fast as Hongjoong glared at my best friend. The Captain started laughing again and shook his head, pulling Hongjoong back by the arm, Seonghwa stepping back embarrassed as well.

“I see you’ll get along just well,” The Captain said joyfully and looked down at Hongjoong, “You can teach Yunho whatever you feel like, he’s all yours.”

A dangerous glint appeared in Hongjoong’s eyes as he looked back at Yunho, and suddenly I was concerned for him, scared that the pirate would put him through torture.

“We only have one free room and one bed.” The Captain said as he turned around, walking towards the exit, “You’ll have to figure it out yourselves.”

Yunho and I nodded, not foreign to the feeling of sleeping in the same bed. After his mother’s death he slept over at my house quite often, never truly explaining why; but it’s not like it bothered me. His mother really liked me and while she was alive, she’d organize plenty sleepovers for the two of us, baking and cooking her specialties to make our night even better. I missed her.

“Like I said, your hair is really pretty,” Seonghwa spoke up again as the Captain was out of the kitchen, “But it’s too long for a boy…”

I gulped, gripping the ends of my copper hair. I really loved my hair. It was special, nobody else’s in my town was like the colour of mine. It reached the middle of my back, my curls tight. I didn’t want to cut it.

“I don’t want to cut it.” I said quietly and looked at the floor as Seonghwa hummed, rubbing his chin.

“I’ll try to figure something out, then, about clothes you don’t have to worry about, Hongjoong and I have plenty of those to lend over until we deck down in a town and buy some for you two.” I smiled at him thankfully and Yunho nodded his head, looking around the room.

“Will you teach us what pirates do?” I asked quietly, starting to feel excited about the future. Hongjoong chuckled as he played around with his dagger, pointing it at Yunho.

“We aren’t on a playground here, so you better forget you’re just kids.” He said with a scowl, eyes narrowed at Yunho, “And don’t try to play the tough guy either, unless you want to be shark food. Touch Seonghwa again and I’ll cut your hand off—”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa sighed with a pointed look at his brother, “He didn’t know what I wanted to do, he was just protecting her—”

“I do not care.” Hongjoong snaped, shooting a silencing look at Seonghwa, “There are ranks on this ship, and you’re at the bottom of it right now.”

Yunho glared at Hongjoong as he raised his chin, staring at him challengingly, “We’ll see for how long, pirate boy.”

Hongjoong chuckled as Seonghwa shook his head and looked at me sadly, motioning with his head for me to follow him, “You should get changed, Y/N, the longer you look like that the longer you’re in danger.”

“Promise you’ll never tell anyone.” Yunho suddenly spoke up, looking at Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The two glanced at each other before they nodded their heads, Seonghwa gently offering his palm for me to take.

“We promise.” Hongjoong said firmly, extending his hand for Yunho, who shook it firmly, “Let me show you your room then.”

            5 years ago

            A while had passed since the pirate ship became my new home. Yunho’s new home. Captain Kim was kind to the two of us, allowed us time to learn what we were best at, and never beat us down with his words like some other pirates, who didn’t try to hide their disdain for us. I did not understand where such hatred came from, but I didn’t dwell too much on it. Yunho was quick on his feet and too smart for his own good, he learned something new every day and mastered it in only a few more days. It was impressive, the Captain became keen of him quite fast and promised to give him a high rank once the right time came. I was scared at first, not truly understanding how I could help out on a ship full of men as my strength was quite questionable and my cooking skills were nowhere to be found, that is, until one day, Seonghwa and I were cleaning up his father’s office, only to find drawings of some old ships and boats. The designs caught my attention and after asking for permission, I took them to my room and started studying them, finding similarities with our own ship. I knew I might’ve been very wrong, but I wanted to have significance and contribute with something, so one evening, when the Captain was gazing out at the dark sea, I walked up to him and whispered to him that I might have some suggestions as to how we could make our ship faster. He listened to me with a smile on his face and the next day I found myself in charge of making the ship faster. And after that, whenever something happened to the ship, I seemed to be one of the few who knew how to fix it. I could feel the heated gazes of the other pirates, those who had been on this ship for too long, throwing insults at me behind my back, cursing me for doing more than they ever could. I had been cornered a few times too, threatened with a beating and becoming shark food, but Yunho somehow was always there at the right time, scaring those pirates off as he glared at them with the scariest look in his eyes. And once they were gone, he’d turn around and cradle me against his chest, promising to always protect me. Captain Kim was also good at keeping me safe, often warning his pirates to keep their slurs to themselves if he heard them sprouting non-sense about my physical appearance, about how weak and frail I looked. Nobody besides a select few people on the ship knew I was a woman, and I intended to keep it that way. The Captain was a great help when it came to it, always shutting down the rumours, but after just six months of having been on his ship, he was killed by a rival pirate crew while we were decked down for supplies. We had a few rough weeks, especially Hongjoong and Seonghwa, but a new order was soon instilled. Kim Hongjoong, the Captain’s only blood related son, was to be the next Captain. He chose Seonghwa to be his Quartermaster and at the late request of his father, Yunho became the Master boatswain. I was assigned the position of Carpenter and Yunho’s deputy if he ever needed help, meanwhile many of the older pirates were disregarded of their positions. Hongjoong wanted to make his own reputation, he became The Slayer, making Ateez one of the most feared pirates in the four seas and four kingdoms. Our crew grew significantly throughout the years and we became a tight circle of nine, Hongjoong’s most trusted people…and friends. Everyone was special to him, and despite not being on the best of terms with everyone myself, I knew they were my family. I knew I could trust them with my life. If Yunho wasn’t there, they always were, all of them being very protective of my gender as the older pirates were quite vile, not liking the changes Hongjoong was making.

I usually stayed up late when I wanted to wash up, preferring to wait until everyone else fell asleep, that way I knew nobody would barge in on me. The little room we used as a washroom was truly small, a few utensils thrown in the corner as we used a larger barrel as a bathtub, luxuries like that weren’t made for ships. The water was almost hot as I dipped my hand in it to check the temperature, and it brought a smile on my face, knowing that Yunho was the one who washed up before me. He knew how I liked being last, so if he could, he always heated the water for me beforehand as carrying buckets filled with water was strenuous for my muscles. I waited a few more minutes, checking again if nobody was roaming the halls of the ship, and upon hearing no movement I started undressing. I took off the scarf from my hair, unwrapping it before pulling off the bandana as well, massaging my scalp and sighing at the relief of pressure from my head. My hair had to be cut every now and then, but Seonghwa was nice enough and never cut it above my shoulders, knowing how much I loved my curls and the colour of it. I unbuttoned my black shirt, but didn’t take it off as I had to first unwrap the tight cloth from around my body, which restricted my breasts from showing too much, also concealing the form of my body. My skin itched as I undid the clasps and quickly unravelled it from around my torso, groaning at the soreness of my breasts. Ever since going through puberty my breasts had gotten bigger, and having to restrict them daily made them very sensitive and sore, on some days I could barely touch them, the pain traveling through my entire torso at the smallest contact. I unlaced my trousers and quickly pushed them off, shivering as the cold wrapped around my body. As I went to pull down my undergarment, I heard footsteps barrelling down the stairs and loudly headed towards the washroom. My eyes widened as I froze for a second, listening to the sounds, trying to recognize the person, but to my horror, it wasn’t anyone whom I was close to. Yunho only needed to take one step before I recognized him, Seonghwa’s steps were light and he was usually whistling a tune stuck in his head, meanwhile Wooyoung was always screaming my name if he was searching for me. This wasn’t anyone I knew, not someone I was close to. Snapping out of my shock, I looked around panicked, not knowing what to throw on first to conceal my identity, but by the time I grabbed the bandana to wrap it around my head, the door was thrown open. I froze, my back facing the door. Nobody said anything despite the burning gaze I could feel on the back of my head and I stiffened as I subtly tried to button up my shirt. If it was anyone, I was close with, they would’ve already apologized and closed the door behind them, even San.

“Taemin?” Fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, chewing my bottom lip as I realized it was one of the older pirates, who’s voice was too raspy from smoking so much. He was one of the few remaining from Captain Kim’s crew, the old crew, and he hated my guts the most.

“Yeah?” The timber of my voice dropped, like I usually spoke to the crew. My heart was beating fast as I pulled my shoulders back, closing the last button of my shirt, bracing myself to turn around. But before I could do so, a sticky hand grabbed my arm and whirled me around.

“You’re not Taemin.” The old man’s face came in view, he was sneering at me, his breath bad as it smelled like cheap rum, he looked tipsy. I gulped before rolling my eyes, my expression steeling.

“Let go of me, you old fool.” I hissed, trying to tug my arm out of his grip, but the old man narrowed his eyes at me.

“Watch your language, pirate.” The old man snapped back, yanking me closer to himself. I tensed even more, conscious of how exposed I was. I could only pray his vision was blurry enough that he wouldn’t realize my gender.

“Release my arm, now.” I demanded, glaring at him, but suddenly, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open as his eyes travelled over my body. Fuck. I went to pull away, about to curse him out like a sailor and send him away, but the old fool was walking out the room, hauling me after himself. I struggled against him, but his strong grip wasn’t relenting.

“What are you doing?!” I yelped as I tried to hold onto the wall when he started walking us up the stairs, heart hammering in my chest.

“Shut up, wench!” He snarled as he looked back with a glare and my heart dropped to my stomach, realizing that everything was about to change. I started to trash against him, trying to free myself, but he just hissed and turned around, landing a hard slap against my cheek, making me fall into the wall. I was breathing hard, shock rippling through my body as he grabbed me by my hair and yanked hard, making me cry out, pulling me up the stairs, headed to the deck.

“Get up, everyone!” He started screaming at the top of his lungs, his harsh grip bringing tears to my eyes, “Fucking wake up! Get on deck!”

No, no, no. My lower lip trembled as I tried to turn in his grip and punch him, I knew how to fight, but this greasy man was strong and furious as he threw me against the hard wooden floor of the deck, my breathing ragged and loud as my head almost smacked against the floor. Pain shut through my knees, palms burning from taking the impact.

“You, wench!” The old pirate howled at the top of his lungs, spit flying from his mouth, “You thought we wouldn’t find out? You thought you could fool us?!”

I bit my lower lip, trying to gather myself as I heard the multiple footsteps of the rest of the pirates, then felt their eyes on me. I knew everyone would be watching, judging, and laughing. I was surrounded by men, after all, and they loved humiliating a woman. Especially the one most of them had been suspicious of for five years now.

“I am no fool!” The pirate screamed and suddenly grabbed me by my hair, yanking my head up. My body trembled from the cold and anger cursing through my veins as I glared up in his eyes with spite, “You might’ve fooled the old Captain, but not me!”

“And who are you?! You scum!” I snapped, baring my teeth at him before the back of his hand made contact with my cheek, again, sending my head flying to the side. My cheek stung from the slap, tears instantly in my eyes as I heard commotion close to us.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Yunho’s voice was deep as he screamed at the top of his lungs, voice almost cracking from the anger I could hear in it. As I looked up, cheek burning, my eyes fell on Yunho. He looked livid. His chest was falling and rising rapidly, and when we made eye contact, his jaw clenched as he took off towards the old pirate, only to be held back by Mingi and San. Wooyoung’s gaze could murder anyone as he watched the old pirate, hand gripping the handle of his sword as I saw the conflict in his eyes, not knowing whether he was allowed to help me or not as the crowd of pirates parted for Hongjoong, who’s hair stuck in odd places, his nightgown thrown over his built frame.

“What is happening?” He asked, voice tense, as he stopped in front of Yunho, keeping a safe distance between me and the old fool. I looked at Hongjoong, and when he saw me, his eyes hardened before he looked back at the old pirate. Everyone knew the old pirate has always tried sabotaging Yunho and I, even tried to throw us in the water once when we were working on deck, thankfully Hongjoong saw everything and reported it to his father instantly, as he was still alive back then. Hongjoong hated this old pirate as well, having been bullied by him his whole childhood, but he needed a good reason before getting rid of him. It seems like them moment has just come. Old fool.

“This man—no, woman!” The old pirate spat as he pointed his finger at me accusingly, “Has lied to us for years, Hongjoong—”

“It’s Captain Hongjoong to you, pirate.” Seonghwa snapped, standing behind Hongjoong tensely, keeping his eyes off me as I could see his strong front breaking each time he dared glance my way even from the corner of his eyes.  

“Captain Hongjoong,” The old man said it with difficulty, hating Hongjoong just as much as he hated the rest of us, “this woman had been hiding on our ship for five years. Calling herself Taemin, exploiting our generosity, using up our resources!”

“And? Where’s the problem with that?” Hongjoong chuckled and walked closer, taking his nightgown off as he stopped in front of me.

“Where’ the problem—she’s a wench!” The old pirate screamed at the top of his lungs as Hongjoong crouched down and placed the nightgown around my shoulders, sharing a look of understanding with me, calming my crazy heartrate for a second, “This slut thought she could outsmart us! Sneaked on the ship with that boy only to be his whore—”

I closed my eyes tightly at the vile things which kept leaving his mouth, calling me names and any slur he could remember. Yunho and I made eye contact, and I noticed how Wooyoung was gone, probably unable to remain calm, meanwhile Seonghwa had to move to keep his hand against Yunho’s chest as he trembled with fury, trying to fight off Mingi and San, who were trying to calm him down. My eyes looked up at Hongjoong when suddenly a sword was handed to me, Hongjoong’s hand extended for me. I took it and stood up, wrapping his nightgown around my exposed body, grabbing the handle of the sword.

“That’s my sword you’re holding you ugly slut!” The pirate spat and I looked him in the eye, slowly, a smirk pulling onto my lips. Hongjoong chuckled and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he stood next to me.

“You’re free to do whatever you want with him, Y/N.” He emphasized my name as we both stared down the old pirate, who seemed shocked to hear my real name.

“You—you knew!” He said bewildered, his eyes falling on the crew as he realized Mingi and San were barely able to hold Yunho back at this point, Seonghwa having to stand right in front of his face and continuously demand him to stop, “You knew all along what this stupid wench was and—”

The pirate’s words stuttered as his eyes widened, looking down at his chest. I gripped the handle of the sword with both hands as I pressed it deeper inside his heart, watching with satisfaction as the old fool seemed to realize a wench was the one to end his life.

“How pathetic,” I chuckled, smirking at the man arrogantly, “killed by your own sword. By a woman.”

The man tried to say something, but I yanked the sword out of his chest, watching him as he fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as blood poured out, coating his clothes and the floor. I kept my eyes on him, watching as the life faded slowly from his eyes until he fell limply against the floor. The silence behind us was deadly, and Hongjoong shook his head, looking irritated, as he turned to face his crew.

“Well, now that this is out of the way…” He said with an eerie smile, clapping his hands together, “Taemin isn’t actually a man, as you can see. Her name is Y/N and if anyone’s got a problem with having a woman in our crew, don’t be intimidated, tell us now. I’ll let her take care of it.”

Nobody said anything, their eyes averted as they shook their heads ‘no’, shuffling around uncomfortably. I released the sword and let it clatter to the ground, eyes connecting with Yunho’s as he was finally allowed to do whatever he pleased, not even two seconds later his body crashed into mine, his whole being shaking. I chuckled into his chest, trembling as well and gulping down the tears as he turned us around, his arms wrapped around me protectively, and snarled at anyone who was still gawking at me. Hongjoong nodded at us, and Yunho grabbed my arm instead, making me yearn for the comfort of what being in his arms felt like, as he pulled me after him making the crowd part for us as I stumbled down the stairs after him. He said nothing, and I remained quiet, trying to swallow the tears which threatened to spill down my cheeks. I tried to stay strong, up on the deck, but I was terrified of what would happen to me now. Of how the rest of the crew which didn’t know about me until now would act towards me.

Yunho’s tall body was tense as he kicked the door of our room open, and I gasped as he yanked me inside, slamming me against the wall before he kicked the door closed with his foot. Yunho had gotten taller over the years, something which seemed impossible since he’s always been so much taller than me. His face had gotten sharper too and eyes steelier than they used to be, the glint in them only appearing when it was just the two of us or if he was with Mingi, who had become like his brother quickly. My heart was hammering in my chest as I looked up at Yunho, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. He was breathing hard and the way his jaw would clench and then unclench was an obvious sign of his anger, of how much he was seething.

“Did he touch you?” His voice was barely a whisper, it shook in the quietness of our small room. We weren’t fifteen anymore, sometimes it felt stuffy inside here, but it was the best this ship could offer, and we had to live with it. Yunho’s voice had always been so soft, but over the years, it has gotten deeper and whenever he was angry, it would shake his whole chest as his voice boomed over everyone else’s. You rarely saw him mad, but when it happened, it silenced the whole crew as everyone covered away from his wrath.

“No—”

“Y/N, did he touch you?” He repeated his question, eyes ablaze as I sniffed, two tears rolling down my cheeks. I tried to keep it together, to look strong in front of him, but nobody has ever touched me like that old man has. Nobody has ever called me so many ugly things before. I regarded myself as a mentally strong person, but I felt violated. I didn’t want my gender revealed just yet, I was scared of what would happen to me next. Men were vile and they viewed us, women, as a piece of meat, good for nothing else than bringing them satisfaction. I could see it in the eyes of a few pirates up on the deck, their eyes running hungrily across my exposed body. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want this.

“Just—” I gulped, shaking my head, “No, not like that—just slapped me, really—”

“Did he slap you before you got to the deck?” Yunho’s voice was too levelled, it meant nothing good. I was scared he’d throw someone overboard; he surely had seen the few pirates looking my way for too long when we passed by them.

“Yunho, he’s dead.” I forced a soft smile on my lips, grabbing his wrists in a reassuring manner, “It doesn’t matter—”

“It matters!” Yunho snapped, voice raising, “It matters because you’re no longer safe with us! Because I failed to keep you away from danger when I promised I’d never let that happen! I should’ve never allowed you to come with me—”

“Yunho, it’s not your fault.” I said with a sigh, watching his eyebrows furrow in disappointment, “I should’ve waited for longer, really. And you’ve always kept me safe, stop saying such nonsense.”

He chuckled, his voice coated with irony, “If that were the case, nothing would’ve happened tonight.”

“Yunho.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as I pulled his hands off my cheeks, lightly pushing him back, “I am fine. I am safe. I am alive, standing with you in the security of our room. There’s nothing to blame you for, so please, stop it.”

Yunho looked at the floor, shaking his head as he racked one hand through his hair, long fingers tangling in the messy strands of his locks. My eyes followed the motion, eyes lingering on his hand for a second too long, before my attention was back on his face as I felt him looking at me. I raised my eyebrows, a question on the tip of my tongue, when suddenly, Yunho closed the distance between us. My heart started thumping crazily as I looked up at him wide eyed, our chest pressing together, his breathing escalated as well. He paused for a second, almost looking afraid, before bending down and grabbing the backs of my thighs, hauling me up against him. My arms wrapped around his neck instinctively and so did my legs around his hips, body shivering from the warmth his own body emanated against my cold one. Hongjoong’s nightgown slipped off my shoulders as Yunho lightly pushed it off, walking us towards the bed, leaning down and laying me down carefully. I stared up at him wordlessly, heart in my throat as he leaned down suddenly, staring intently into my eyes before he dipped his head down, lips pressing against my collarbones. My eyes widened and I gasped quietly, laying on the mattress unmoving, body tense from the strangeness of the feeling of Yunho’s soft lips brushing against my skin.

“You’re not a wench.” Yunho’s voice was deep as he pressed a kiss in the juncture between my neck and collarbones, my breath hitching for a second, “You’re not a slut.”

“Yunho—” I whispered confused, trying to find his gaze, but he wasn’t looking at me as he kissed the side of my neck so softly, I barely felt it. My skin was covered in goosebumps and I bit my lower lip as I started up at the ceiling.

“You’re not anyone’s whore—you’re not stupid.” Yunho’s voice was tense as he kissed up my neck, one hand suddenly holding my hips as I felt my body flush at his words. I didn’t think too deeply of what being his whore implied, he was my best friend after all. We had never touched each other inappropriately.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful.” Yunho suddenly whispered in my ear and I let out a quiet breath, hand unconsciously coming up to hold on to his nape as he pulled back slightly, staring into my own eyes. His pupils were slightly dilated, but he looked so serious, “You’re gorgeous and you’re smart. We would’ve long died without your skills. Nobody patches up this ship like you can. Nobody can do what you can, you’re irreplaceable. That old fool didn’t know what he was saying, he was just jealous that a woman is better than he’ll ever be.”

I nodded wordlessly, drinking in his words, staring up in his endless eyes, the glint in them pulling me in, the world disappearing around us. It was just the two of us in this room, nobody and nothing could disturb our peaceful moment. He felt like heaven. Warm and soft. So protective, so careful. Yunho’s eyes, for a second, fell to my lips which had parted just seconds ago, but I wasn’t able to say anything as he leaned down, wetting his own lips with his tongue. I didn’t know what I wanted or why I felt this desperate need to feel his lips against mine, but suddenly, I felt very thankful when he kissed the side of my mouth, so close yet so far from where I yearned to feel his. We were best friends. Certainly not lovers; and a kiss on the lips…that opened up new doors, something more than friendship. And yes, we loved each other, but not like lovers do.

“Thank you.” I found myself whispering as my hand slipped up, fingers tangling in his hair as Yunho sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes and finally, I felt his body relaxing, anger having dissipated. He looked serene as I studied his face and I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling his body down, against mine. Yunho moved us up on the bed and cradled my head against his neck, his body weight never crushing me as he turned us to the side.

“I promise you’re safe with me.” He whispered in my ear and I nodded, burying my head in his neck, nose nuzzling against his flushed skin.

“I know.” I whispered back, gulping, pausing for a second, “I love you, Yunho.”

Silence wrapped around us, the waves crashing against the ship rocking it softly. The moon was high up in the clear sky, stars illuminating our route. Yunho stroked my hair, and I felt the smile on his face, in his words, “I love you too, Y/N.”

            Present time

            Sword clashing against sword rung out in the air loudly, metal scraping metal, a sound I was familiar with. My younger self would’ve winced at the strain it exerted on my left wrist as I pushed against my opponent’s sword, but I had years and years of training, unless I strained it in some odd way, no pain would usually follow after a sparring session. I felt a grin creeping up on my face as I pushed harder against Yunho’s own sword, his eyebrows furrowed, as I managed to throw him off balance. I stepped closer, invading his personal space as the both of us were panting, the beaming sun taking a tool on us as we’ve been sparing for hours now up on the deck. The waves were loud as they crashed offshore, some bigger and more menacing looking that the others. The wind was strong, but not harsh, sailing our ship smoothly as Jongho stood in the crow’s nest, binocular in his hands and maps splayed out around him. Wooyoung clung tightly against the shrouds, the muscles of his arms bulging, as he listened closely to whatever information Jongho shouted his way, Wooyoung quickly adjusting the sails according to whatever Jongho has said to him. Whenever Wooyoung and I would make eye contact he’d grin my way, sticking his tongue out, taking my attention off Yunho and making me accidentally lose a few rounds. No matter how much I complained to Yunho that it wasn’t fair as Wooyoung had distracted me, again, he paid no mind and claimed his victory, making Seonghwa shake his head at us in amusement as he stood leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck, looking down on the lively crew. There was something different in the air today, everyone’s mood seemed to be lighter, happier than usually. Despite Hongjoong being promised a lifetime of lavish when Siwon asked to meet with him and Hongjoong coming back empty handed, but littered with a few purple-coloured small bruises on his neck, the whole deal didn’t seem to bother him so much. It was new, Hongjoong could get very stressed and mad when a deal didn’t go his way, but there was something different about him this time, I could feel it radiating off him. He was steering the wheel, taking his position as Captain, as Seonghwa and him would convers from time to time.

Yunho’s chocolate brown eyes bore into mine as we paused for a second, my eyes watching the stray sweat drop roll down from his temple to his cheek and then jawline, Yunho’s eyes watching me closely when I looked back up his, fastening my heartbeat. There was something so different about the Yunho I grew up with and the Yunho standing in front of me right now. He wasn’t a boy anymore; he was a man. A tall, well-built, and ambitious man. He looked any challenge in the eyes and conquered them without a problem, always quick on his feet. His soft eyes would glaze over with determination whenever he set his eyes on something, always the last to back off if something wasn’t going his way. He was charming, and he always used it to his advantage, features soft and friendly, almost always smiling, a warm twinkle in his eyes. It was one of the few things which signalled that this Yunho, who’s leg I just kicked out of underneath him, was the same Yunho I had grown up with. He was still the little boy whom everyone loved from our village, he was still the little boy who’d share everything with me, even if he had little of it. He was still my best friend. Albeit a bit changed, but deep down it was still him. Yunho groaned as he lost balance and with a small push, he landed on his ass, throwing his sword down in frustration as I started giggling, lowering my own sword.

“Oh, don’t be such a cry-baby,” I mocked, pursing my lips at him, “You’ve been spending too much time with Mingi lately, it’s starting to rub off.”

It was good Mingi wasn’t around to hear us, because I wouldn’t hear the end of the fact that I dared call him a cry-baby. He could be quite dramatic at times, more demanding of attention than anyone else I have met so far.

“You wish,” Yunho rolled his eyes as he sighed loudly, his breathing ragged, “I’m not a cry-baby.”

“Then explain why you’ve been whining ever since we’ve started sparing.” I raised my eyebrows and placed my sword back in its holder, the weight of it familiar around my hips.

“I wasn’t!” Yunho quickly defended himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest looking like a child, “I told you I had to carry heavy barrels two days ago, my arms are still sore from them.”

“I don’t hear Yeosang and Jongho complaining, though.” I muttered playfully, earning a frustrated groan from Yunho. He narrowed his eyes at me in a fake glare and I chuckled as I extended my hand for him, to help him up. Yunho eyed it for a second before looking me in the eyes, beaming up at me. His smile took me off guard, heartbeat stuttering for a second, but before I could have much of a reaction, the wind was knocked out of my lungs. I yelped as I gripped Yunho’s biceps tightly, back colliding with the wooden floorboards loudly. I gaped up at Yunho, taken off by his actions, as he quickly straddled my hips and grabbed a hold of my neck, long fingers curling around my blazing skin. I was left speechless as my lips parted in a quiet gasp, wide eyes staring up at my best friend, who had a triumphant smirk on his lips. He leaned closer, his golden chain necklace with a big trident charm dangling in my face, as he chuckled. His second necklace, which I have gifted him a long time ago, was wrapped snuggly around his neck, the pink shell shinning in the sunlight.

“Never let your guard down,” He muttered, voice dropped to a low mumble, making me gulp as I finally closed my mouth. I felt warmth flush over my whole body, my cheeks probably burning from embarrassment, as I took in the way Yunho looked on top of me, white shirt clinging to his sweaty torso, the top few buttons undone, tan skin glistening underneath. Veins, very visible, travelled up his exposed forearms, and the ring all of Ateez members wore, dug into the flushed skin of my neck, a screaming reminder of the firm hold he had of it, but not restricting my airflow. He was just holding me in place. His dark brown hair was messy as the wind blew it in all directions, slightly wavy from the salty breeze, and it fell on his forehead, clinging to the sweaty skin in some places. His cheeks were flushed as he looked lost in my own eyes, before he quickly cleared his throat, “The fight is never over until one is knocked out.”

By some miracle, my voice came out steady and strong, “Is that what you’re trying to do right now?”

Yunho didn’t answer, a lopsided smirk appearing on his lips as he slightly sat back, pressure taken off my hips as if he knew I would make no move to try and fight him off, “You’ll have to squeeze if you want to knock me out—”

“Mate, seriously?!” Wooyoung’s shrill voice cut my words off as a loud thud landed not far from us, “Stop being so inappropriate in front of everyone!”

Before Yunho or I could say anything back to Wooyoung, he was by our side, grabbing Yunho’s bicep and yanking him off me, up to his feet. My body finally relaxed and I closed my eyes, taking a second to calm my racing heart, knowing that it would work now that Yunho wasn’t so close anymore.

“We were just sparing—” Yunho started saying when Wooyoung made a loud noise with his mouth, lips smacking together in a way it said he did not want to hear an explanation.

“You two do this almost daily, Yunho,” Wooyoung said accusingly, making me smile as I sat up, watching my two best friends throw irritated looks at each other, “And it’s disgusting and sickening to have to watch—”

“To have to watch two pirates train?” Yunho cut Wooyoung off, making the younger one sigh with a frown.

“That’s not training—” Wooyoung almost exclaimed, but cut himself off with an annoyed groan, looking down at me with an accusatory look, “Don’t just sit there and act innocent, missy.”

I laughed as I got up, dusting off my leather pants before placing my hands on my hips, “I didn’t do anything wrong, Mr. Prude, stop yapping our ears off.”

“Yapping your ears off?!” Wooyoung sounded offended as he released his hold on Yunho and instead jumped towards me, his arms going around my neck as he bent me down, holding me in a headlock, loud laughter was leaving my lips as Wooyoung pretended to choke me.

“Somebody needs to do some damage control if—” Wooyoung glanced behind us, throwing a nod towards where Seonghwa and Hongjoong were standing, watching the scene unfold in amusement, “If the two authoritative figures just sit back and enjoy the show their fools put on for them!”

“I’m not a fool!” I said with laughter, grabbing Wooyoung’s arm to yank myself free. Wooyoung just stuck his tongue out before he loosened his hold and I pulled my head away, straightening up and holding my fists up in front of me in a challenge, “Come fight me, you fool.”

A dangerous glint appeared in Wooyoung’s eyes as he squared his shoulders back, taking up a fighting stance, fists in front of his face as I smirked at him, taking a step towards him. But before we could start a hand-to-hand combat, Yunho stepped in, pulling Wooyoung back by the shoulder, “Don’t you have something more useful to do? Jongho’s been glaring at you ever since you got off from your post so go do your job, pirate.”

Wooyoung scoffed but shook off Yunho’s hand from his shoulder, straightening his light jacket, before he looked at my best friend with disdain written over his features, “You can never take a joke, Yunho, hounding Y/N as if any of us would dare touch her inappropriately—”

“Get lost.” Yunho snapped before Wooyoung could finish his sentence and I tsked, walking up to Yunho and grabbing his hand. His fingers instantly intertwined with mine, a habit by now, as I wrapped my other hand around his bicep, slightly squeezing it.

“Be nice, Yunho,” I muttered as I jutted my lower lip out, looking at Wooyoung with an apologizing smile, “We were just playing around.”

“I know.” Yunho’s answer was quick, eyes meeting mine as I smiled at him sweetly.

“You know, my ass.” We heard Wooyoung mutter to himself as he stalked towards the shroud he was climbed up on previously, waving his hand at Jongho, who even high up in the sky, could be seen glaring at Wooyoung. I chuckled, knowing well that he was going to get an earful later for abandoning his post when they were navigating, setting the ship on the right track. My eyes left Wooyoung as I looked back at Yunho, who was already watching me, eyes soft and lips pulled in a small smile, his thumb suddenly caressing my knuckle. The action made me blush and I cleared my throat, looking away embarrassed.

“I have to start my own duties,” Yunho said as he leaned down slightly, to be eye level with me, throughout the years he continued growing meanwhile I stopped, the height difference between us quite big in the present, “Want to join me?”

I would’ve said yes, like I normally do, but my eyes fell on a body as she timidly made her way on the deck, eyes squinting at the harsh sunlight compared to how dim the lights were downstairs. The girl’s dress was relatively clean, but worn out a little, and her short hair was pulled in a low ponytail.

“I think I’ll stay here today, if you don’t mind.” I answered Yunho and he followed my line of sight, instantly understanding why I turned him down. He nodded and squeezed my hand before letting go, his body disappearing from mine as he walked away, headed underneath the deck. I missed the proximity of his body, his familiar scent which was comforting, but I pushed those thoughts aside as I approached the only other female on the ship with us. The pirates were watching her closely, curiously, however, Hongjoong didn’t look very pleased at the sight of her. He was against the idea of San keeping her, but he couldn’t do much when his Master-at-arms threatened to leave the crew behind if the presence of Ara was denied on Hongjoong’s ship. San was somebody I wasn’t very fond of, nor on good terms with. We were cordial to each other, could hold a pleasant conversation if in the mood, but we stayed out of each other’s business. Mainly because I knew what his business consisted of. I couldn’t do anything about the trafficking that went down, and I hated it. I hated seeing women imprisoned on our ship, getting sold off to heaven knows what types of horrible men. Hongjoong, San, and I have had many arguments about it, but in the end, I had to understand and learn that it was none of my concerns, that I just had to pretend that I knew nothing about it if I wanted to stay on this ship with Yunho. And for Yunho, I’d do anything.

“Hello.” I said softly, walking up to the petite girl, who jumped when she heard my voice, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looked at me, her big, round eyes, staring at me with shock in them, before her eyebrows furrowed, “You’re a woman.”

I chuckled and nodded my head, “But you’re dressed in pirate clothes.”

I said nothing as I watched her connect the dots herself, a slightly hostile expression overtaking her face. I knew what she was thinking and I looked away, gulping, hoping she’d understand, “I’m a pirate, yeah. And I’m a woman, yes. I—”

I felt the need to tell her, to let her know that I hated what San did to her, and many more women, just as much as she did, “I couldn’t help—no, I’m not allowed to interfere with anyone else’s business on this ship, so I am sorry.”

Disappointment coated her expression before understanding washed over her. This girl was an open book, her expressions so telling of her feelings. Her big eyes shone with emotion and it felt like you stared into her soul each time you looked her in the eyes. She was beautiful, and her energy was fiery, simmering, and if challenged, it would burst. I have heard about how she tried to run away, save herself from getting sold and Mingi would’ve lost a few limbs if Yunho didn’t step in and tell San to back off when they made it back to the ship, yet this girl, she stood proud and stared San down with spite, promising to rain hell on him in front of the whole crew. That night, Yunho has held me tightly against his chest, when we went to bed, and promised to only treat me with respect and adoration. I knew that already, but I knew how much he hated San for what he did, so I just kissed his forehead and reassured him that I knew I was safe with him.

“My name is Im Ara.” The girl, Ara, introduced herself and extended her hand for me. I shook it instantly, smiling at her, glad that she accepted me.

“I’m Bae Y/N.” I introduced myself and Ara hummed, letting go of my hand as hers clasped behind her back, shoulders pulled back, “We don’t often see you on deck…”

Ara looked off in the distance, eyes lost on the sea as she nodded. She’s been here for two weeks already, and this was the second time I have seen her. I was worried for her, but I knew asking San about anything would result in an argument, so I just let the thought go, “It’s nice to get fresh air, even if it’s salty and the wind is cold.”

“Are you cold?” I asked with furrowed eyebrows, about to take off to grab my jacket from Seonghwa’s side, but Ara shook her head with a smile.

“No, it feels nice. It gets too hot in San—” She gulped, as if disgusted by having to say his name, “In San’s room. It’s small for two people and you can’t really open the window, or at least San won’t let me.”

I hummed, listening to her, sensing that she needed someone to talk to. I could feel eyes on us, and when I glanced up, Seonghwa was watching us with a sad look on his face. He tried to convince San to let her go the day they returned, but San was having none of it, pockets and a bag filled with coins and gold, “I’m not supposed to be here, actually, but I snuck out.”

A mischievous smile appeared on Ara’s lips as she chuckled, turning her head to look at me, “He fell asleep while I was glaring at him. He thought I was curious about his childhood just because I bandaged him up after he kept hissing and getting frustrated at himself for not being able to do it himself.”

Yes, that did sound like San. He rarely asked for help, usually closing himself inside his room, only when things were getting too hard or serious would he ask for help. And it was usually Yeosang the one he sought out, or Hongjoong, who seemed the most willing to form any kind of bond with the mercenary.

“Just be careful with San,” I couldn’t help but warn her, afraid for her safety next to that unpredictable man, “He’s ruthless.”

“I know.” Ara said, suddenly a smile creeping up on her lips, “But I can also be scary, he should’ve just sold me off when he had the chance.”

There it was, the little simmer turning into a fire in her eyes as she looked determined, a secret promise probably to herself glimmering in her eyes before it was all gone, blinking around curiously, taking in what was happening around her for the first time, “I could never climb up there.”

She said as she watched Jongho, then Wooyoung, who was dangling upside down from the shroud as of now, laughing loudly as Hongjoong noticed and took off from his post, eyebrows pulled in a frown, expression tired but angry as he stormed towards the younger one, who was getting yelled at by Jongho too. I couldn’t help but laugh as I heard Seonghwa sigh loudly from above, going to the wheel, taking Hongjoong’s place as Ara hid her mouth behind her palms as Wooyoung tried to climb up higher when Hongjoong drew his sword out in a warning manner, making me laugh as Ara started giggling as well.

“They might be men, but at the heart, they are still just a bunch of children.” I said with a shake of my head and Ara seemed amused as she looked at me, nodding in agreement.

“What’s your job on this ship?” She asked curiously.

“I fix up the ship if it’s damaged and improve it whenever I have new ideas, Yeosang usually helps out. And I also stay by Yunho’s side, mostly helping with whatever he needs or can’t do.” I answered Ara and she hummed, suddenly a look of sadness crossing her features.

“I’m only here to rot away, my beautiful future stolen away.” She muttered, mostly to herself, before looking past me, “I was supposed to become a famous singer. I’m good for nothing else, I can’t cook well, and I’m clumsy too, I often disassociate from the real world, especially when it gets too much or I’m feeling bored. It keeps me going, but here…not even those are helping. I feel useless and helpless. San won’t let me do anything either, he just locks me up in his room when he leaves, and if he’s there, he just antagonizes me with his presence.”

I felt bad for her as I watched her eyes glass over with tears, making me feel useless too in the moment. That is, until I realized I could help her out with something little. Something that would come in handy too one day, “Do you want to learn how to fight?”

Ara’s eyes quickly fell on me, wide as she looked surprised by the question, “That’s not very ladylike.”

I nodded, agreeing with her, “It’s not very ladylike, but you’ll be able to protect yourself from anyone.”

From San. But I didn’t dare say that, even the walls had ears here, I didn’t want to start unnecessary drama. However, as if Ara read my mind, a small understanding look crossed her eyes and she nodded, looking very excited, “I should be able to do that, at least. Can you teach me?”

I smiled widely, motioning for her to follow me towards the centre of the deck, where we had more space, “Of course, I can. We’ll start with something simple today and I’ll teach you more once you master the new skills.”

“Alright, let’s do that.” Ara nodded as I took my sword off, not wanting it to get in the way of our training. We’d focus on simple self-defence today, and if she was good, then perhaps I’ll show her how to handle a dagger.

            Moreover, Ara proved herself to be quite good, catching onto things fast as she copied my moves quickly, and only struggled a few times here and there. She could easily free herself from a chokehold now, whether the attacker was holding her from the back or was keeping her in a headlock. Ara seemed to enjoy our little training session, giggling whenever my fingers accidentally brushed against her neck, ticklish. Yunho, once done with his duties in the supply room, had come up on deck and watched as I trained Ara. He’d throw in tips for her, guide her when she seemed lost by the way I was holding her, not knowing how to free herself. She asked if we could have a duel, with swords, but I told her she needed more training for that to happen as she was already tired from just an hour of learning self-defence. But she kept insisting, so I gave in at last, handing her Yunho’s dagger as I held my own in my hand. Yunho had gone off, discussing the sailing plans with Hongjoong and Jongho, Wooyoung probably gone to cook us dinner, with the help of Yeosang and Mingi. Seonghwa was sailing the boat, eyes lost as he gazed at the dark sea, clutching his compass tightly in his free hand. If I wouldn’t have been busy with Ara, I would have approached him and comforted him, knowing what type of thoughts clouded his mind when he looked so unfocused.

“Hold it like this,” I said as Ara and I stood side by side, holding the handle of the dagger in my open palm, “and then…flip it.”

Ara watched as I flipped the dagger with my middle, and ring finger, and pinkie, gripping it firmly in a stabbing hold. Ara’s eyes widened slightly before she quickly got to work, slowly trying to do what I did a second ago, the dagger almost falling out of her hand. I watched as she tried again, clumsily flipping it before she puffed frustrated, and then did it again and again, the action getting smoother with each try.

“You’re quite good at this, Ara.” I praised with an excited chuckle, her eyes shining with joy at my compliment, raising her hand and doing it again flawlessly, ready to stab anyone.

“Will you teach me how to stab someone?” She sounded too excited in spite of having asked something so dark, and her demeanour slightly faltered when she realized, grimacing at me, but I just chuckled and shook my head at her. I wasn’t new to violence nor, unfortunately, having to kill someone.

“I think it’s too soon, you barely got to hold a dagger.” I winked at her but grabbed her wrist still, standing behind her, and guiding her hand how to slash someone without killing them, “If you do it like that, you won’t kill them, but you certainly will leave a nasty gash on their skin.”

“Good.” Ara whispered to herself, eyebrows slightly furrowed, probably forgetting that I could hear her since I was leaning over her. I released her wrist and stepped back, opening my mouth to tell her that we were done for today, how I should check if Yunho needs me for anything before going to the kitchen to help Wooyoung, another helping hand always needed down there. But before any sound could leave my lips, someone’s shout halted what everyone was previously doing.

“Ara!” It was San, his deep voice unmistakable, as I turned around to see him storming towards us. Ara tensed, grip tightening around the dagger, as she whirled around, hiding her hand behind her back, “What are you doing?!”

San’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed and he looked furious as he stopped just an inch away from her, glaring down at Ara. I expected her to shrink back underneath his intimidating gaze, but Ara just straightened her back and raised her head so that she could look into his eyes.

“None of your business—”

“It is my business.” San cut her off and his eyes momentarily glanced my way before he looked back at Ara. Yunho was watching us closely, but when I shook my head at him subtly, he returned his attention onto the conversation he was having with Hongjoong and Jongho, knowing very well that I could handle myself. And that San wasn’t actually a threat to me, he wouldn’t explicitly hurt me. He couldn’t. Unless he wanted to die.

“I’ll only ask once more, Ara, what are you doing?” San’s voice dropped an octave, face going blank as his sharp eyes bore into Ara’s, who just smirked back at him and slowly revealed her hand holding the dagger.

“I was learning how to defend myself while you were sleeping, San.” She said his name with spite, lips stretching into a wide smirk when San’s jaw clenched, hands balling up into fists. He was fuming, it was very obvious as his mask slipped for a second. He glanced down at the dagger Ara was holding in her hand and suddenly his head snapped in my direction, and if his glare could kill, I would be dead right now. I stood my ground and raised my eyebrows at him nonchalantly.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” San’s voice was levelled, but the way his jaw kept clenching and unclenching was a tell-tale sign he was on the verge of bursting from his anger.

“Considering the fact that she’s on a ship full of men, I deemed it necessary she learns how to defend herself,” I answered San, taking a step towards him, but still keeping a respectful distance between us, “in case someone tries doing something to her.”

In case you try doing something to her, San. But I didn’t have to say that out loud, the implication hanging heavily in the air between us as Ara’s lip trembled for a second before she quickly composed herself as San’s gaze snapped back to her. He grabbed her wrist harshly and my hands twitched, wanting to yank his hold off her, but knew better to not touch San unless I wanted to lose my fingers.

“Don’t think you can use any of the shit Y/N taught you against me, Ara,” San sneered, Ara hissing as she abruptly released the dagger, San’s fingers digging into her skin, “You’ll be dead before you can even grab a weapon.”

“I’d rather try and die than continue living with you.” Ara spat back and whined as her free hand went to grip San’s wrist, which was squeezing her too hard. My eyebrows furrowed and I decided that I couldn’t just stand there and watch him hurt her.

“Let go of her, San.” My voice was stern, eyes steely as they bore into the side of his head, making San scoff as his blazing eyes set on me.

“Shut up, Y/N,” He hissed, releasing Ara as he closed in on me, I wasn’t scared of him, “You know she wishes for nothing more than my death and yet you teach her how to fight?! How to yield a dagger?!”

I chuckled and nodded, “Yes, because her life was taken away by you. Because you never gave her a chance…or any of the other women you sold. Because you think you can get away with everything, thinking your sins will be forgiven, but San—they will never be, not by me, and not by the gods watching over us.”

“There’s no such thing as gods and sins, Y/N,” San chuckled, watching me arrogantly, “So you can keep on wishing for my demise, praying, because it will never happen.”

“Why are you so sure?” I raised one eyebrow, glancing behind him to watch Ara for a second, who was slightly shaking, but looked grateful that I was taking her side, “I wouldn’t have so much fate in myself if I were you, you’re human, and you are vincible.”

“Ara isn’t strong enough to hurt me—”

“Don’t underestimate her because she’s a woman.” I snapped, voice slightly raising as I got triggered, knowing very well how San viewed women, “She’ll be your doom, San, you should’ve let her go when you had the chance.”

“And you should mind your own fucking business,” San hissed, getting all up in my face, his breath hitting my cheeks as we stared each other down, “How many times did Hongjoong tell you to leave me alone?”

I scoffed, irritated, “You think I can ignore the fact that you traffic women when I’m a woman myself?!”

I knew I was getting louder, but so was San, attracting some looks from the pirates who were lounging around on the deck, probably waiting for dinnertime, “You, a woman…perhaps you should act more like it—oh, well, you are getting quite emotional over nothing—”

“Your insults mean nothing.” I cut him off, glaring at him viciously, teeth grinding against each other, “I have zero care about how you view me, your opinion is not important.”

“Exactly,” San chuckled, “your opinion means nothing to me either, so I don’t see why you’re always all up in my business, trying to sabotage me.”

I could see movement from where Hongjoong, Jongho, and Yunho were huddled together, but I didn’t take my eyes off San, breaking eye contact right now would mean defeat.

“I think you sabotaged yourself this time, San,” I said with a chuckle and grabbed his shoulder, “I’ll make sure to teach Ara all the important arteries and how to cut them—”

“Do just that,” His voice was daring, bearing a promise, a threat, “And I’ll snap your neck in half.”

But his threat meant nothing to me, knowing very well the second he touched me, despite being a precious asset to Hongjoong, San would be dead in seconds. Yunho would never allow him to breathe for a second longer if he took my life. But Ara didn’t know all that and she quickly shook her head, taking a few steps towards us, hesitant, but determined to get San to calm down, to forget all about it. And just as I wanted to reassure her and push San away since his hand was raising to grab me by the neck, he was gone from in front of me, my own grip disappearing from his shoulder.

“What did you just say?” Yunho seethed as he held San by the collar, their noses almost touching as San rolled his eyes dramatically, acting nonchalant all of a second just to piss off Yunho more.

“Oh, no, are you going to snap my neck in half now?” He taunted, jutting his lips out as he glanced at me with a smirk before looking back at Yunho, “How sickening. I suppose this happens when a bitch has you wrapped around her fingers—”

San couldn’t finish his sentence as Yunho punched his jaw so hard the shorter one lost balance as his body was thrown to the right. My eyes widened, Ara gasping next to me, as Hongjoong was by our side in a second, mouth opened to yell at them to stop, but Yunho grabbed San by the collar again and suddenly started dragging him, San having not quite recovered from the punch yet. What was Yunho doing?! My heart picked up as I watched him bend San over the railing, pushing him just enough that if San even as much as flinched, he’d fall overboard. Into the cold sea. Swallowed by the deadly waves.

“Jeong Yunho!” Hongjoong’s harsh voice rung out loudly, everyone by now watching the scene unfold. Ara grabbed my wrist and I brushed her grip off, not meaning to, but I didn’t know how to react. Yunho has never punched any of the crewmates. Despite our differences, everyone was always cordial, nice, to the others, accepting them the way they were. I’ve seen Yunho angry before, but never with eyes that could kill. His body wasn’t shaking, but his anger was so strong you could see it radiating off him. Hongjoong shouted his name again, but it fell to deaf ears as Yunho bared his teeth at San, who was gripping the railing so hard his knuckled had turned white.

“If you threaten my woman ever again or dare touch her, I won’t hesitate to kill you, Choi San.” Yunho’s deep voice boomed as he hissed at San, “Know your place, pirate.”

Despite being in such a vulnerable position, where just a light push from Yunho could end his life, San started laughing loudly, maniacally, as if what Yunho had just said was the funniest thing in the four seas and four kingdoms, “Your woman!”

His voice travelled over the water, ringing loudly, and I bit my lower lip as I felt the eyes of the other pirates on me. Seonghwa had come down from the quarterdeck and was walking very slowly towards Yunho, prepared to haul him and San away from the railing as Hongjoong silently nodded at him approvingly. My heart was thundering in my chest by now, a bile rising to my throat as I felt sick as San continued taunting Yunho for no reason, “You call her your woman, Yunho, yet you aren’t even man enough to make her yours, you fucking pathetic idiot!”

San’s words felt like a dagger thrown into my own heart and I let out a shuddered breath, face flaming at his words, hating that such topic was being discussed in front of so many people. It was nobody’s business what Yunho and I did in private, especially when we’ve been friends for over fifteen years now, not even one inappropriate touch from him. Perhaps I wished for him to just finally give in and act upon his desires, perhaps I wished San was wrong with his insinuation, perhaps I wished I wasn’t so irrevocably in love with Yunho. Perhaps I wished it wasn’t so obvious to everyone around us as we remained so oblivious of the other’s true feelings. Sometimes it hurt, but sometimes it felt so good. So warm and safe. So stable and comforting. But sometimes it was so scary, it felt like I was drowning. The thought of there being the possibility of losing him one day, of losing a part of myself, creating a void in my heart never to be filled again by anything. So, when I saw Seonghwa almost by Yunho’s side, who’s whole body started shaking as he was on the verge of breaking, I screamed.

“Yunho!” My voice was shrill, panicked, scared, “Stop! Please.”

His whole body froze, as if he was reminded that I was still there, seeing everything, hearing everything. Seonghwa flinched away as San was hauled backwards, sent to the floor roughly as Yunho yanked him away from the railing, hands fisting at his sides as he didn’t glance my way. He stared at the ground, shaking his head in probably shame and disappointment, before he stormed off, feet hitting the floorboards heavily. Hongjoong sighed loudly and long next to me, jaw clenched as he glared down at San, who just sprawled out on the floor, chuckling to himself quietly. I couldn’t help but stare at him with hatred, my body burning, wishing I could throw him overboard too.

“You’re a fucking asshole, San,” Hongjoong hissed at him as he went and grabbed the man’s collar, hauling him up from the floor, “Stay out of my sight today and tomorrow if you want to live.”

“Ai, Captain, ai!” San saluted mockingly, even bowing his head as he started laughing, before he straightened back up and took off towards the stairs leading under the deck, towards our private quarters.

“Don’t make me come and get you, Ara.” He singsonged, glancing at the girl from the corner of his eyes, his expression scaring me for the first time. He was laughing, but his eyes were filled with a burning want to kill, so easy to read them. My heart clenched as Ara suck in a harsh breath next to me before very slowly she started walking towards him, hiding her trembling hands behind her. If anything happens to her today, it’s my fault. I did all of this. I started it. I shouldn’t have meddled with her, what if she dies? What if she dies because I was stupid—

“Y/N,” Seonghwa’s soft voice invaded my ears, interrupting my thoughts, “Look at me.”

I looked away from San and Ara just as she got to his side, and he grabbed her by the nape as he veered her down the stairs, “It’s not your fault. Stop thinking, I can see it in your eyes. Nothing happened.”

I shook my head and bit my lower lip as I felt tears in my eyes, “I fucked everything up.”

“You didn’t,” Seonghwa whispered and he pulled me into a tight hug, hiding my face in his chest as I started crying, “You did nothing wrong. San won’t touch Ara, trust me, she’s safe for now. He’ll calm down and act a little hostile towards you and Yunho, but that’s nothing new. And Yunho will be fine, you know he always is, he just needs time to clear his thoughts and analyse his actions. Trust him and your bond, alright?”

I didn’t want to answer him verbally, so I just nodded my head, sniffing as Seonghwa patted my head, Hongjoong passing by us with a loud sigh, shouting at the rest of the pirates to get back to their duties, the freakshow over. Yunho will come around, he always does. He needs to.

            Up until dinner I haven’t seen Yunho again, he had seemed to disappear without a trace, and I knew trying to find him would put him on edge, so I sucked it up, and helped Wooyoung with cooking dinner instead. I wasn’t as talkative as usually and Mingi noticed, so he brought it up with a curious glance which made Yeosang mutter something to him that made the taller one shut up. I shouldn’t have been surprised that what happened up on the deck was already spreading around like wildfire, gossiping, was a vicious thing the pirates on this ship seemed to love doing. Yeosang didn’t pry as he looked at me with a comforting gaze, and I nodded wordlessly, glad that Wooyoung seemed oblivious to what’s happened only a few good minutes ago. He either didn’t know or he didn’t care, making me feel slightly better as he gave me a side hug, and then instructed me to cut up some carrots as Mingi kept messing it up, cutting them very uneven, making Wooyoung scold him multiple times. Yeosang remained quiet as he stirred the stew, asking questions here and there when he noticed I started losing focus, thoughts whirling in my head. My body was there with them, but my mind wasn’t thoroughly present, straying to thoughts about Yunho and where he could possibly be at. There weren’t many places he could hide away on this ship, but he somehow had found one spot where I could never find him. I had no idea where it was, I had tried to find him one time when we had a big argument and he disappeared for the day, but he was nowhere. I had the worst panic attack that evening and if it weren’t for Seonghwa and Yeosang, I might’ve choked from the lack of air. The boys chatting brought me back to the present and Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the uncut carrot, raising his eyebrows at me questioningly. I just avoided his gaze and continued cutting, trying to stay present as the hungry pirates came down complaining, asking Wooyoung when dinner would be ready. It didn’t take too long after that for the kitchen to fill up with the crew, Wooyoung’s tasty stew’s scent wafting in the air as Mingi helped him take down the big cauldron from the stove, Wooyoung shouting loudly for everyone to take their seats. The crew dug into their dinner like some hungry sea creatures, a satisfied smile on Wooyoung’s face as he sat down to my left, bumping his shoulder with mine in a small thanking gesture. I flashed him a smile, which I knew didn’t look very genuine, but he ignored it as he ate his own portion. My appetite was gone and the empty seat to my left was a screaming reminder of today’s happenings. I sighed loudly as my head hung low, gaining Seonghwa’s attention from across me.

“Hey,” He called out softly, the loud chatter of the pirates almost drowning his voice out. I looked up, tired, as I tried to swallow the stew in my mouth. It tasted better than anything I have eaten in any of the four kingdoms, yet my stomach just refused to take it in. My throat slightly closed up on me and I almost choked as my eyes slightly widened, “Don’t push yourself, Y/N.”

I grabbed my cup filled with water and quickly washed down the stew with it, it slightly helped, “I’ll put aside your and Yunho’s portion for tomorrow, you can go to sleep if you want to.”

My eyes filled with tears a bit as I nodded, Wooyoung’s eyes on me as he looked at us confused, “Where’s Yunho? And why are you not eating? Something happened?”

Seonghwa nodded and with a scrutinizing look, and Wooyoung got the memo to shut up for now, “Yunho’s in your room, Y/N, I saw him entering when I came down for dinner.”

My heart halted for a second before it sped up and I nodded, wiping my mouth with a handkerchief, “Thank you, Seonghwa. Dinner is very tasty, Wooyoung, I just don’t have an appetite right now.”

Wooyoung eyed me for a second before he nodded, watching me get to my feet as I waved at Seonghwa and him, scurrying away to my room. To Yunho’s room. To our room. I was nervous, I didn’t know if Yunho wanted to see me or if he wanted to talk to me, but I couldn’t go on ignoring him, pretending that my thoughts weren’t eating me up whole. I felt horrible for what happened earlier and I knew Yunho blamed himself for it, beating himself up for something he wasn’t guilty of. Given it more thought, it was San’s fault. All of it. He shouldn’t have overreacted and created a scene. Ara had the right to know how to defend herself, and like he said, she wouldn’t be able to take him down just yet, so I truly couldn’t wrap my mind around San’s desperate anger. Perhaps I gave Ara a flicker of hope, and that was dangerous, but I saw how badly she needed it.

I knocked on the door as I arrived to our room, sucking in a deep breath when Yunho said nothing, knowing it was me. I pushed the door open slowly, peering inside before walking in. Yunho was standing before our desk, a few parchments of paper unruled as he read over the words jutted down with ink. His body tensed when I greeted quietly, walking further inside and shutting the door behind myself. Yunho said nothing, just threw a small glance my way, before going back to his lists. He was writing down what we needed to get once we hit land, our ammunition running low as well as our fresh water. I walked to our closet and opened it, divided equally so that we’d both have space for our clothes. The left side was mine and the right was his. Our clothes neatly folded and organized carefully. I had a tendency to over organize things, it was probably one of the few reasons why Yunho didn’t take me down to the supply room when I was feeling antsy. On those days, I’d clean the whole deck and everyone’s room as it was the only thing which helped me calm down. I grabbed my nightgown and quickly undressed myself, struggling with the straps of the cloth wrapped around my torso. I had to reach around my middle to undo it, which was straining my shoulder, and if it were any other day, I would’ve asked for Yunho’s help, but I knew he was keeping his distance. We always offered privacy to the other when we were changing, our backs to each other, but Yunho’s body was too stiff, shoulders pulled back and head hung low as he didn’t sit down in the chair. I successfully unclasped the strap and unwrapped the fabric from my body, letting a content sigh out loudly, my muscles finally relaxing. I have never gotten quite used to the way it tightly hung around my torso, pulling on the skin, barely showing anything off to the prying eyes. The crew might know that I am a woman, but I do not want them to fix their hungry gazes on me, eating me up with their eyes as I were a meal. I hated it with my whole soul. I hated how San had looked at me the first time he had realized I was a woman, wheels turning in his head, eyebrows raising subtly as he took in my body, probably calculating how much I was worth if he were to sell me off. Yunho had stepped between us, sensing my discomfort and knowing San well enough, so with a nudge of his head he sent San away, the younger man smirking to himself before he made eye contact with me again, tauntingly. I shook my head at the memory and quickly pulled the nightgown over my head, pushing my leather pants off and taking my socks off too. Yunho was still silent, too silent.

I cleared my throat as I folded my pants, glancing behind me, “Are you writing the supply list?”

It was a dumb question, we both knew he was doing just that, but I needed him to speak to me. The quiet stretched between us as my body tensed, desperate for Yunho to just talk to me.

“Yes.” His answer was curt, but at least he answered. His voice held no emotion and I closed my eyes for a second before I placed my pants in the wardrobe, closing the door of it. I didn’t know what to say next. Usually, we’d talk about whatever that has happened during our day, random thoughts which came to our mind and whatever crazy things we did while we were younger, reminiscing on the past. But tonight, I didn’t know what to bring up. I wanted us to talk about what has happened, but I knew it would send Yunho away. I couldn’t fall asleep if I knew he was angry because of me.

“You didn’t come down for dinner.” I opted to say, walking next to him, stopping a respectable distance away. Yet, it made Yunho stiffen as he clumsily grabbed a parchment and walked away, towards where the small window was. The single candle burning on the desk didn’t provide enough light to lit up the whole room, Yunho couldn’t see anything on his parchment there.

“I wasn’t hungry.” Yunho answered, eyebrows furrowing as he brought the parchment closer to his face.

“You can’t see anything over there, Yunho.” I sighed out, leaning against the desk. His jaw clenched and he hummed, before very reluctantly, he walked back beside me, but kept a huge distance between us, even bringing out the chair, but not sitting down on it. I wanted to scoff and roll my eyes, but I bit my tongue and just watched him, eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“You didn’t stay for too long at dinner.” Yunho pointed out absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the parchment as he picked up his pen and scribbled something down on the parchment. I was half convinced he was just doodling nonsense down on it at this point.

“I didn’t have an appetite.” I answered quietly, looking down at the floor, when suddenly his eyes raised and stopped on me. I felt small under Yunho’s scrutinizing gaze, eyes drinking me in before he shook his head and he averted his gaze, slamming the parchment down on the desk. I flinched and looked at him wide eyed, noticing the way his eyebrows were pulled together. He turned around and walked to the closet, his steps harsh, and threw the door open. He pulled out a clean shirt and some short pants, which I had cut for him, and started undressing himself. I quickly turned around and gulped as I walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it, gripping the sheets tightly. Something angered him, but I didn’t know what. I hated it when he didn’t talk to me, when he didn’t tell me what the problem was. I somewhat knew what it was, but I wanted him to say it out loud. I wanted us to discuss it.

“You shouldn’t starve yourself, Y/N—” I looked up sharply at him, eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to shut down his assumption, but Yunho was turned towards me, shirtless, and his pants hanging low on his hips. In the golden glow of the candlelight, his tan skin was glowing, his dark wavy hair falling over his forehead messily and his veins bulged as they travelled up from his hands to his arms. His body was toned, muscles well-defined from having to carry so many barrels almost daily and the continuous sparing sessions. I knew I wasn’t supposed to look, to stare at him so shamelessly, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Yunho looked radiant. I was breathless, but quickly realized what I was doing, and tore my eyes off him as I stared at the wall to my right. Yunho remained frozen for a few minutes as I gathered my thoughts, embarrassed.

“I’m not starving myself, Yunho,” I mumbled with a sigh, cheeks flushed, “I just wasn’t able to eat anything tonight.” Because I didn’t know where you were. Because I didn’t know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Because I didn’t know when you’d open up yourself again to me. There were so many things I wished to say to him, but I knew it would only drive him away even more.

“You let your mood influence you too much.” His words were sharp, as if he was lecturing me. That was rich coming from him.

“You are the one to talk,” I didn’t mean to snap at him, but I couldn’t help it as I raised my eyebrows at him, “when you run off hiding at the smallest inconvenience.”

Why was I bringing this up? Why was I starting a fight? This is not what I wanted. I just wanted Yunho to smile again and forget everything San has said to him.

“I don’t run off.” Yunho snapped, nose flaring as he threw the shirt around his shoulders, “I don’t hide, I just—I need time. To cool off. To sort out my thoughts.”

“And you leave me standing there like an idiot each time you do that, worrying—” My throat closed in on me as Yunho’s eyes watched me sharply, the fire in them burning me up against my own will, “Worrying when you’ll acknowledge me again. Worrying whether you’ll push me away for good this time. You’re always doing this, Yunho, always.”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you!” His answer came quickly as his eyebrows furrowed and I chuckled humourlessly, licking my lips annoyed.

“Yet you always hurt me when you do that.” My response was quick, quiet, but I knew it was sharp. I knew it was the last thing Yunho intended to do, and I knew he hated it when he made me feel like that. His cold façade crumbled for a second, and I saw it in his eyes, the guilt eating him up alive, the helplessness he felt; but it was quickly gone, face morphing into a frown. I scoffed and stood up.

“What are you afraid of, Yunho?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. There was an edge to my voice, a challenge, “Why do you always run off? Why do you always push me away?”

Yunho shook his head, face pulling into a grimace as I walked closer to him, his eyes falling on the floor. His body was tense, defensive, as he tried to button up his shirt, jaw clenched, “Why do you never let me see you?”

“Because—” Yunho’s voice rose an octave before he steadied himself, shaking his head, trying to compose himself, “Because I will say things I will regret. Because I will do things I will regret. I don’t think straight when I’m angry, Y/N, I’m—I’m impulsive and I don’t want to do something that I will hurt you with. I care—I care for you deeply and I want to keep you safe, and I want to protect you, but sometimes—sometimes I’m the one who you need to stay away from.”

“Bullshit.” I spat, eyebrows furrowing as I stalked close to him stopping merely inches from his body, shaking my head disapprovingly, “You would never hurt me willingly, Yunho. If only you stopped running away, we could talk things out. I don’t want to constantly wonder where you are and what you are doing, it’s draining.”

“I am hurting you right now by not being honest!” Yunho snapped, wide eyes staring at me, more to his words, as he bit his lower lip. His eyes strayed from my face, down to my lips, my neck, and collarbones peeking out from underneath my nightgown, stopping on the mess of curls on top of my head. There was something dark in his gaze, surfacing like he’s been suppressing it for long, hidden somewhere deep inside his mind, never to see the light of day. His body was warm, drawing me in, pulling me closer. My breath hitched as he licked his lips again, his eyes on my own lips, breathing irregular. My heart pounded against my ribcage, palms sweaty as I gripped my nightgown, a yearning so grave overtaking my sense I could barely stay rooted to my place.

“You just have to say it, Yunho, you know that,” I whispered, eyelids fluttering as he let out a harsh breath, hitting my face, “I won’t say no.”

“That’s the problem.” His voice was deep as he muttered, jaw clenched as his fingers twitched beside him.

“If we both want it—” I gulped, hesitant but daring as my hand reached out, finger hooking with his, the touch sending an electric shock through my body, “There’s no problem at hand, Yunho, if we both want it. San—” It was disgusting to utter his name in such scenario, but for once in his life that man had said something true, something right, “San was right about one thing. You could—you could make me your woman, and I would want that, Yunho, I really do.”

I was conscious of what I had just confessed to. The love I harboured for Yunho has for long not been platonic. I pushed it to the deepest darkest place in my mind, scared of Yunho’s reaction if he ever were to know, but I just couldn’t help it. Not when he was looking back at me with the same look in his eyes as mine, burning anything in its way, yearning for something more we could so easily have. Yunho’s breath hitched as my words sunk deeper in his mind, mouth falling slightly open as his finger squeezed mine harshly as he intertwined our fingers, palm pressed against palm. This simple touch said so much, it wanted so much more, it was pleading for more. But Yunho’s next words just left my heart sinking into my stomach, trying to convey the disappointment from my eyes.

“I can’t, Y/N, I just can’t.” He whispered, hanging his head low as he sucked in a deep breath, “You are so precious to me, I could—I could never lay a finger on you and taint you. I just—I can’t allow myself to ruin you. Not when I can have you like this next to me for the rest of my life. When I know I love you and you love me back just as much. When I know you’re my best friend, the only person I can wholeheartedly trust and cherish. I don’t want to lose what we have now.”

His words felt like a knife was pushed down my chest, ripping my skin apart, leaving an open wound. The rocking of the ship knocked me off balance as my legs momentarily seemed to lose force, but before Yunho could catch me, I pulled my hand from his and stumbled back, needing the distance. He didn’t want me the same way I wanted him. He would never love me the way I wanted him to love me. He was too good to use me for his own selfish needs. If he wanted to, he would’ve already. My body trembled from the sudden drop of temperature as I walked to our bed, sitting down and pulling the covers back. The dreaded void was back in my chest, I had to swallow multiple times to fight the tears back from my eyes. It was alright. I could live with having Yunho the way I always had him. I could live with loving him like a best friend should. I could live on like I always had up until tonight. It was fine. I pulled the covers over my body as I shifted closer to the wooden wall, turning my back to Yunho as I curled up in a ball, squeezing my eyes shut and willing my brain to shut up, the voices going away in just mere seconds. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t want to speak. And as I heard Yunho shuffle around in the room for a few more seconds, I succumbed to nothingness, allowing the darkness to pull me in.

            Some mornings were easier than others, some gloomier, and some more energetic. Sometimes the bed was too comfortable to get out, too warm and smelling like your favourite person in the world, but still, duty called. It waited for you and you had no other choice. My eyes were closed as I shifted slightly around, stretching my left arm over my head as I mumbled mindlessly, brain foggy with sleep as I wasn’t quite awake yet. Today was a gloomier morning, when sleep didn’t quite want to let me go, dreams painting my mind. And a feather like brush against my shoulder made it even harder to open my eyes. The sensation kept going as it brushed against my collarbone, lightly nipping at the skin as I felt the hotness of another human looming over me, so close, but not entirely touching me. A shuddered breath left my lips as a kiss was pressed between the juncture of my neck and shoulder, body tingling with a sensation so familiar yet so unknown. I hummed as the lips pressed firmer against my skin, on the side of my neck as I turned my head to the left to leave more space for the attacker, left hand coming down and tangling into soft waves of kinky hair. The fog had started slowly lifting from my mind, eyebrows softly furrowing at the flush overtaking my whole body as a soft moan left my lips, when a pair of lips pressed against a particular spot harder, fingers gripping onto hair harder. My eyes fluttered open at last, staring at the wooden wall, breathing hitched as my body reacted to the ministrations done to it, until the fog completely disappeared. Until I froze, until I felt lips nipping against my jawline. My fingers untangled from Yunho’s wavy hair and I scrambled to sit up, eyes wide and breathing uneven as Yunho and I’s heads almost knocked together. He stared at me surprised, as if he didn’t understand why I reacted the way I did, as if waking up to your best friend kissing all over your body was normal. As if he didn’t just confess last night that he only saw me as his best friend, forever.

“Stop.” I croaked out, voice hoarse and heavy with sleep as my lips slightly trembled, “You can’t do that, Yunho.”

He looked hurt as he scooted away slightly, warmth disappearing with him as I threw the covers off myself, clumsily getting out of bed, “We’re friends.”

Yunho looked offended hearing that, I didn’t understand why, “Friends don’t kiss each other like that, Yunho. We need to set new boundaries, because this isn’t working anymore. You’re a man and I’m a woman. Our minds, and bodies, aren’t that of children anymore.”

Yunho’s eyes flashed with hurt at my words, but what he didn’t know was that I felt the same way when he told me those things last night. That I still felt like my heart was stomped into nothing last night. I turned my back to him, something I hated doing, as I walked to the wardrobe and took my clothes out for the day, “From now on, I’ll change in the washroom. You can do it in here while I’m gone.”

Before Yunho could say anything, I stormed off, blinking away the tears in my eyes, ignoring the yearning and the suffocating feeling in my throat, the harsh pounding of my heart. If he wanted us to be best friends, we needed a new set of boundaries established.

After having changed into presentable clothes for the day, I walked to the kitchen, having been to my room previously, but Yunho was gone by then. I pushed the anxiety of not knowing where he was down as I opened the door to the kitchen, surprised to see Ara standing by the stove, frowning deeply at it. I approached her and cleared my throat, not wanting to startle her. She glanced behind her and relaxed when she saw it was just me.

“Good morning.” I greeted her and stopped by the sink, watching her.

“Morning.” She muttered quietly, eyes still on the stove as if she was having a silent battle with it, “I give up!”

My eyebrows rose as I watched her confused, a bowl of scrambled eggs sitting on the unlit stove. Putting two and two together, I chuckled and approached her, lightly pushing her out of the way. I grabbed a match and lit it, lighting up the fireplace for Ara.

“That’s how you do it…” She muttered to herself and nodded at me in thanks, placing her eggs on the stove. As she wasn’t paying attention to me, I allowed myself to take in the other woman, eyes running over her face and any exposed skin carefully, looking for signs of any abuse or manhandling from San. But her skin was flawless, looked untouched. Perhaps I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was, because Ara glanced at me from the corner of her eyes.

“He didn’t touch me,” She muttered, focusing on cooking her breakfast, “if that’s what you’re looking for. San hasn’t—he hasn’t even looked my way since yesterday. When I woke up, he was gone and the door was wide open. I don’t know what that means, but I took my chance and came here to cook myself some breakfast. I didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“Do you want my portion of stew?” I asked as Ara looked at me surprised, her eyes filling with tears.

“No, no!” She quickly shut down my offer, stirring her eggs, “It’s fine, this will do.”

“But aren’t you hungry?” I asked confused, Ara smiled at me.

“Not that much, don’t worry.” She reassured me, chuckling, “I’m used to not eating much.”

“Why?” I asked curiously as I watched her turn off the stove. She took her eggs and walked to the long table, sitting down close to the end of it. I only came here to drink a cup of tea and see if Wooyoung had already woken up, I didn’t expect to see Ara here. Didn’t expect San to let her off so easily.

“I always tried to stay fit, not gain any weight.” Ara explained and my eyebrows furrowed as I went to take the kettle, then filled it with water.

“Why would you do that?” I asked genuinely confused and Ara chuckled as she glanced back at me.

“Because I was supposed to look pleasing to the eyes. Be pretty and well-kept.” Ara explained, voice heavy with melancholy, “I worked at an Inn, which barely paid me enough to keep a roof above my head, but perhaps it was my fault too for wishing for things I couldn’t afford. I realized early on in my childhood that sometimes I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not, getting lost in a world which is only in my head. And sometimes, I would think I could project that world into my reality, screwing myself over. To be honest, if San wouldn’t have kidnapped me, I would’ve probably been evicted sooner than latter from my little cottage.”

“Is that how you try to reassure yourself that you’re in a good place?” I asked accusingly, making Ara chuckle as I placed the kettle on the lit stove.

“God, no,” Ara shook her head, taking a bite of her breakfast, “I hate this place as much as I hate San. It’s grim, dirty, and full of smelly men—and rats! I saw one a few days ago, I wished to drop dead that exact second. I don’t deserve to be here surrounded by these people, no offense to you Y/N, you’re quite lovely, actually. But I know I was made for bigger things. Created to stand on a scene. Designed to be a star one day.”

I watched Ara a little confused, her eyes focusing on nothing as she seemed far away, lost in her own thoughts, “I always wanted to become a singer for the wealthy. To be known all around the four seas and four kingdoms, but then—then San took me, and it all shattered, a future slipped right through my fingers. I’ll never be known, nor a star. I will never sing for the Queen or the aristocrats. I will rot away on this ship surrounded by lowlifes and—rats.”

Ara’s voice choked up as suddenly tears started streaming down her face and she slightly choked on her food, making my heart clench in sadness for her. I sighed and walked over, sitting down next to her and placing an arm around her shoulders. She turned into me, crying into my neck as I rubbed her back soothingly, allowing her to feel safe, to let it all out.

“Do you miss singing?” I asked in a whisper when Ara slightly calmed down. She nodded wordlessly against my neck and I smiled, patting her brown hair down, “Would you like to sing tonight? We have an important mission tomorrow and I’m sure these pirates would enjoy a little show and let loose of their nerves.”

The kettle started whistling behind us and Ara pulled away, wiping her tears off her face, “And I have a pretty dress I never wore.”

“Really?” Ara’s eyes widened, watching me intrigued as I got up and walked back to the stove, turning it off.

“It’s royal blue.” Ara’s eyes sparkled with joy, something I haven’t seen until now, her lips pulling into a wide smile.

“After dinner?” She asked and I nodded, smiling back at her. It made Ara giggle as she went back to eating her scrambled eggs, humming a happy tune to herself as if she didn’t have a small breakdown just a few seconds ago. I watched the girl for a few more second before shaking my head as I walked to the sink, grabbing a clean cup. Such a young soul with such intangible dreams.

            The chatter invaded the vast expanse of the kitchen, the pirates talking animatedly as they finished their last spoonful of yesterday’s stew, jugs filled with expensive rum and others with beer from the North, which Jongho and his father managed to snuggle on the ship on one of our missions a month ago. The room was lively as everyone enjoyed their last night before we’d go on the mainland, having docked down close to the coastline of one of the South Kingdom’s northwestern islands. We had run out of many important supplies, so tomorrow majority of the crew would go and retrieve whatever was necessary, with a side mission only few knew about, more specifically, Hongjoong’s close circle of friends. I didn’t necessarily like these missions, because they were dangerous and usually illegal, but I trusted the boys to come back unharmed, after all, they could handle themselves. Wooyoung was going on and on about how Jongho won’t let him draw his own map, as the younger from the two thinks Wooyoung’s drawing skills aren’t good enough yet, but all I could focus on was the empty seat to my right. Yunho had come down to have dinner with everyone, but instead of sitting next to me, he was sitting across the table, between Hongjoong and Mingi. That hasn’t happened before, and I could feel the questioning gazes of the others as we started eating, but I ignored them and snuggled into Wooyoung’s side, who was warm and kept me busy from thinking too much. Seonghwa was the most persistent as his eyes didn’t leave me for a good half an hour, but once he realized I wasn’t going to meet his eyes and talk about this new seating plan, he just sighed, and finally turned his attention onto Jongho, who instead of eating was drawing frantically in his little, secret, notebook. It was his diary, actually, but he never confessed that he really was keeping a diary, embarrassed when the older pirates started teasing him about it. I found it endearing, not that my opinion would’ve changed much.

Noticing that everyone by now was pretty much done eating, I abruptly stood, alerting Wooyoung as he had been complaining about Jongho, making Seonghwa jump too, as he seemed lost in his thoughts. A few pirates glanced at me before they continued their previous conversations, but Hongjoong raised a questioning brow as I grinned from ear to ear, walking away from my seat, towards the closed door. I clapped my hands three times, trying to get everyone’s attention as I smiled brightly, lightly pulling on the bottom of my burgundy shirt. Ara had insisted that if she were to be dolled up for tonight’s performance, then I should also make myself presentable. I invited her in my room shared with Yunho, and she was quick to pull my hair in intricated braids, without being too harsh. It was surprising, not many could tame a curly hair. She kept complimenting my copper curls and I was slightly embarrassed from the constant attention and praises, not used to them, having been surrounded by men for a very long time now. I’d lie if I say I didn’t enjoy my time with Ara. We giggled about everything, even talked about her previous crushes from her little town, and whispered about who she thought was the handsomest pirate on the ship. When she asked what I thought, I flushed a deep shade of pink, but skilfully dodged the subject, a knowing look appearing on Ara’s face. She insisted that I get rid of the cloth wrapped around my body and instead wear one of my corset’s, which I had never worn before but Wooyoung insisted I buy it when he saw it through the glass of the boutique. It was new, allowing my curves to show through my clothes, the bumps of my breasts foreign as I could see them and even feel them. I was scared what the pirates would think and said, but nobody threw me a second glance once they saw me at dinner, besides the quiet compliments that I had arranged my hair nicely and that the burgundy colour complimented my complexion well. It was rather comforting to see how much they didn’t care about how I presented myself, of course, Wooyoung excluded. Because he let out a shrill gasp when he saw me and pulled me up from my seat, twirling me around as I felt Yunho’s burning gaze on us. We hadn’t talked all day, it seemed like he was avoiding me. It didn’t surprise me, but I feared our friendship would never be the same again. Wooyoung kept going on and on about how beautiful I looked and that he knew that corset would look splendid on me, accentuating my beautiful form. Yeosang’s compliment also made me blush, but I turned my head in time and nobody saw it, or so I thought, because Yunho’s glare bore into the side of Yeosang’s head. I thought San would come and drag Ara away from me at any given moment, but he never showed up. Ara noticed how tense I was and just sighed, mumbling that she hadn’t seen San since the morning and something told her he was giving her some space, keeping away. It was weird. San has never done that before, to anyone. I didn’t say anything to Ara, though, just allowed her to have this moment of peace and joy as she applied something she called blush on my cheeks. Then I helped her get dressed and she clipped two strands of hair from the front to the back of her head, and then smiled at me, twirling around in my dress. It looked amazing on her, brought the colour of her skin out, matching her eyes. She truly looked majestic, and I understood now why she had high hopes of becoming famous one day. Her looks would’ve definitely helped her getting that, and if her voice was good, she truly had the whole package. Pity she had to rot away on a pirate ship, like she has said. I didn’t mind rotting away here, not as long as it was what Yunho wanted.

“May I have your attention, please?” I asked loudly, the pirates looked at me confused as I chuckled, “I know everybody is tense tonight, so, Ara and I thought we could diffuse the tension a little bit and…have some fun. Thus, I present you Im Ara, our entertainer for the night!”

The pirates seemed to grow even more confused as I opened the door and then stepped aside, allowing Ara to walk inside. She held her head high and smiled softly, waving delicately as she walked towards the stove, where she had a lot of space. Everyone watched her shocked, gaping at the beauty of her, and I just smiled as I went and took my place next to Wooyoung, grinning at him as he looked at me surprised. When I glanced towards Yunho, curious of his reaction, I was slightly taken aback by the intensity of his gaze on me, his eyes boring into mine. My smile slightly disappeared as I stared back, wishing he’d just stop being stubborn and would come and sit next to me, missing his familiar scent and warmth.

“Good evening, gentlemen, and Y/N.” Ara spoke up, voice velvety as she placed her hands in front of her. The pirates cackled at her use of words and I shook my head, showing Ara an encouraging thumbs up to continue, “I deemed it necessary to lighten your mood tonight, therefore, I shall sing to you.”

A few of the pirates grew tense, the Siren’s luring and hypnotizing song still fresh in their minds, even mine. The Siren had been a scary creature, but seeing how she didn’t really hurt anyone, even went as far as saving Jongho, I found some respect for her and set aside my judgement. I started clapping, realizing the silence was slowly becoming awkward, and Yeosang and Seonghwa quickly followed, slowly each and every pirate clapping for Ara. It seemed to encourage her as she slightly bowed her head and then cleared her throat, closing her eyes. Her mouth opened and she started singing, her soft voice carrying through the room as she started out slow and soft, the notes cradling you, comforting you almost. Ara’s voice was beautiful, just like her, and it was powerful and conveyed every emotion she felt during the song she sung. It was about a little girl lost in the world, lost in her own dreams, scared of what the real world had to offer for her. She didn’t know which path to choose, she didn’t know what was right and what was wrong. She was scared of falling, of the darkness, of the monsters hiding and waiting for her to walk into their trap. But then, just like a fairy, a kind lady, not older than her had appeared, and guided her through the ups and downs handed to her by fate, the little girl growing up into a refined and confident woman, ready to take on any hardships thrown her way. She never truly figured if the helping lady was real or a fairy, or just a fragment of her imagination, but she remained forever grateful as she lived long enough to tell her grandchildren all about it.

When Ara was done singing, she opened her eyes, and after a second of silence, the table erupted in loud claps, a few pirates even standing up and shouting encouraging words at her. Ara suddenly flushed and turned around, patting her chest down, and when she turned back around, her eyes were rimmed with tears. When was the last time she had sung? When she had an audience? My heart broke for her as I clapped, smiling proudly when we made eye contact.

As the table started quieting down, one already drunken pirate spoke up, “Do you know any sailor songs?”

“Name any!” Ara said excitedly and the table erupted into cheers again, the pirates slamming their fists against the table in excitement. I started laughing, never having seen the crew quite like this, never so carefree and happy.

“The coiled fishnet!”

“Blackbeard’s treasure!”

“The Serpent and The Pearl!”

“Deep under!”

“Cator’s last sail!”

“Lost on Sea!”

“Kings never die!”

“Remember me when I sink down under!”

Various sailor songs were screamed at Ara and she held a hand over her mouth, seemingly overwhelmed for a second, before she clapped her hands, and grinned mischievously, “That is a lot you want to hear, but the night is still young, isn’t it? I shall then start with The coiled fishnet!” Everyone started cheering loudly and Ara laughed before clearing her throat and starting to sing the quite sad song, the pirates humming along.

And just like Ara has said, the night was young, but when you were having a good time, it flew past you, making it seem like it was mere minutes. As the night progressed, the pirates got drunker and drunker, to the point that the kitchen was filled with loud singing as they had joined Ara, slurring their words and over shouting Ara’s majestic voice. I had been asked to dance by Wooyoung when one of the happier songs was being sung and I couldn’t refuse him, so we went and danced. Ara seemed to sparkle in the dim lights of the kitchen, radiating happiness as she clapped as Wooyoung and I danced around her. It only encouraged the other pirates to dance along and soon, I found myself in a big circle, getting twirled around and singing along with Ara. Even she was asked to dance during one of the more pacific songs, and she accepted gladly, blushing a little when Mingi held eye contact with her. She said that after Seonghwa, Mingi was the handsomest on the ship. Hongjoong had gone to sleep half an hour ago, whispering something to Yunho, and then excusing himself, saying that he needed to be well rested for the mission tomorrow. Yeosang followed soon after, but the others remained. Jongho was talking loudly and animatedly to a circle of five men from the crew, telling them everything he knew about sirens. It had been a touchy subject after his siren got away, but lately he seemed to be happier, especially when we were sailing through the Raging Sea. I didn’t think he’d see the Siren ever again, but perhaps I was wrong. Wooyoung was constantly dancing and singing, more like shouting, as he had started stealing Jongho’s own drink up until they younger’s father caught him, and tried to stop Wooyoung from getting wasted, to no avail. It felt good seeing my friends so free of worry finally.

Yunho never joined in on the singing nor the dancing, he just sat at the table, and watched everyone carefully, his eyes rarely on someone else other than me. It felt uncomfortable at the beginning, but I knew he just didn’t know how to approach me, so I let it slide. If he didn’t want to have fun, I wouldn’t try and haggle him like Mingi had been doing until he got almost punched. San was nowhere to be seen, until I spotted him in the doorway, hiding away in the shadows, eyes fixed on Ara, and only on her. His stoic expression was slowly slipping as Ara sung about a love so strong it would transpire into the lovers next lifetime, the two bound to always find each other. His hands were balled into fists and he gulped hard, and his eyes slightly closed, drinking in Ara’s soothing voice. Two lovers bound to face challenges in their next life, some so severe even the universe thought their bond would be broken, but it never did. Because unknowingly, fate had strung them together a long time ago, sealing their love as a testament against anything evil trying to break them apart. I watched as San crumbled for a second, it almost looked like a tear slipped down his cheek, before he made eye contact with me, and stormed off, my heart clenching for him. Despite the evil deeds he did, I knew he was only human. But not all sins could be forgiven, no matter how human one was.

I tapped Wooyoung’s arm as I pulled away and stepped out of the circle, him following closely behind. His cheeks were flushed and he was constantly giggling, the alcohol having clearly gotten to his head, “I think I’m going to sleep, Woo.”

His pout was almost adorable, “So soon?”

“It’s quite late, actually.” I answered with a chuckle as suddenly Wooyoung engulfed me in a big hug, his head resting against my neck. His chest fell and rose quickly from dancing around, a sheer layer of sweat coating his forehead.

“But we’re having so much fun!” He whined, and I shook my head as I petted his hair.

“I know, but Ara will perform for us again, and we’ll have even more fun.” Drunk Wooyoung was like a child, he needed to be coerced into doing things, softly spoken to, and a lot of patience. I felt eyes on us, but I didn’t turn around, assuming that it was most probably Yunho watching us.

“Will she, really?” Wooyoung asked dazed and pulled his head back, looking at me with a drunken grin.

“Of course, she will, Wooyoung.” I said with a chuckle, “I don’t think she has anything better to do and it actually makes her happy.”

“Like cooking makes me happy—” He hiccupped and I rolled my eyes, “and, well, stealing from the royal court.”

“You’re so reckless.” I shook my head at him and carefully pulled myself out of his tight hold, knowing his clinginess got worse when drunk. Wooyoung pouted and his eyes were halfway closed, suddenly the tenacious Sailing master disappearing as all I could see was the little prince who stumbled on our ship so many years ago. His skin polished, clothes posh, well-mannered and words carefully pronounced, accent absent. He was so different from us, yet he stayed. Something about the crew attracted him to the life of a pirate and he stuck with us, his Prince title long forgotten, his once King supposed duties long left in the past.

“I’m just a pirate.” Wooyoung lowered his voice and mockingly saluted, making me shake my head at him. He just chuckled and then hiccupped, swaying on his legs, the rocking off the ship slightly making it worse.

“Let’s get you to bed—” I started saying, gripping his arm, but Wooyoung groaned loudly, pushing me away with a frown.

“No!” He whined, glaring at me, “I’ll stay and celebrate for more, you go to sleep, Y/N. Jongho’s room is closest to mine, when he goes to sleep, I’ll go with him.”

“Pinky promise?” I extended my pinkie to him, and Wooyoung giggled.

“Pinky promise.” He nodded his head and hooked his pinkie with mine, sealing it with our thumbs. He waved goodbye as I bid him goodnight and started towards the kitchen door, eyes falling on Jongho, who didn’t seem too tired or drunk enough yet, holding a pirate by the collar as his eyes shone in excitement, talking loudly and explaining something to the poor pirates, who looked slightly frightened by Jongho’s passion. He was a stoic man, rarely showing any emotions, but I guess the liquor loosened up him enough to let his secret obsessive side shine through. Jongho was a precious person, I have always been fond of him, but perhaps that was also because he was the youngest amongst our close circle, and just a little boy when him and his father joined our crew.

I left the kitchen and walked down the dark hallways, knowing them like the back of my palm, in a cheery mood as the night had gone better than Ara and I had expected it. It was good for the pirates, but it was also good for Ara. They would warm up to her easier now, something so small as songs bringing us together. Ara was talented, I couldn’t help but pity her for her ruined dreams. She did deserve more, and perhaps, one day, San would let her go. Perhaps.

I pushed open the door of my room and walked inside, the moonlight casting the room in a soft glow, not strong but just enough to see the outline of things. It’s not like I needed light, I’ve been living in this small quarter for ten years now with Yunho. I stepped inside, letting the door shut behind me on its own, but I was barely two steps in, when the door was roughly pushed open, slamming against the wall. I jumped and whirled around tense, ready to fight if anyone was here to provoke me, but instead I was met with Yunho’s tall frame standing in the doorframe. My eyebrows furrowed and suddenly, he sprung forward, the door closing behind him forcefully, closing the distance between us until his lips were pressing against mine. Yunho’s lips. Pressing against mine. My mind reeled as my eyes widened so much, I thought they’d pop out of their sockets, Yunho’s soft lips pressing painfully against mine. When I didn’t respond, he pulled back just slightly, lips brushing against mine, eyes boring into mine. His breathing was uneven as I tried to understand the situation, guess his thoughts, but his eyes gave away nothing. I didn’t understand, I just couldn’t. It was so sudden. Out of nowhere. After yesterday’s outburst, it was unexpected. I was taken-aback, but slowly, I found myself wanting to feel the press of his lips against mine. I wanted to taste him. To feel him against my body. It was Yunho, my best friend, the man I loved. I was ready to give him everything he wanted. Words wouldn’t leave my lips, all that left them, was a whine and Yunho was suddenly pressing his lips against mine again, grabbing my cheeks painfully, squeezing the air out of me. I couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss just as fiercely, standing up on my tiptoes so that he didn’t have to lean down so much, clinging onto him as I grabbed the collar of his shirt. Our lips started moving in sink, hungrily devouring the other, tasting them, curious of the other. They seemed to fit perfectly against each other as Yunho tasted of the rum he’s been consuming throughout the night, and despite being sober, suddenly, I felt like I was intoxicated myself. His hands slowly released my cheeks and I felt them on my arms as they slowly dragged down my body, hold tightening when his calloused hands and long fingers made contact with my corset. I shivered slightly at the firm grip, goosebumps erupting on my skin as he dragged his hands lower, following the curve of the fabric, of my body, as a sound left the back of his throat, pressed into my mouth, making my breath hitch. Yunho grabbed my waist and before I could react much, I was hoisted up, legs wrapping around his hips instinctually, as did my arms around his neck. Our noses pressed into each other’s cheek and I breathed in deeply, his scent so familiar that it sent chills down my spine. I couldn’t help but moan when he bit my lower lip, a sound I repressed so many times when he lazily kissed all over my body in the mornings, trying to hide the flush and the want trying to show on my face. Yunho hugged me close to his body as he walked to our bed, sitting down on it, letting me straddle his lap as I quickly pressed my lips against his again, opening my mouth up for him, desperate to feel more of him. His sweet tongue pressed against mine, and I felt like I could reach the stars any moment, as I moaned, licking at his, letting him do the same as his grip became bruising on my hips as he allowed his hands to wander underneath my shirt and corset, cold hands pressing against my heated skin. My breath stuttered for a second and Yunho must’ve felt it as he pulled back, his chest falling and rising quickly, just as breathless as I was.

I pecked his lips again, my body burning with a yearning I’ve never felt before in my life, the familiar glint back in his eyes. It felt like I was staring at the stars on a clear night, no clouds in sight. His gaze was so warm, filled with adoration and lust, as he dove down and pressed his open mouth against my neck, licking at the skin, my body reacting instantly as my hips slightly moved, shivers traveling down my spine. Yunho groaned against my skin, the vibration travelling through me, and I couldn’t help but move my hips against him again, as he pulled our bodies close by the strong grip he had on my hips. I was feeling so many new sensations at the same time, mind foggy and clouded with thoughts of Yunho. The familiarity of his scent and his warmth and his body. It felt like I’ve known him like this my whole life. My fingers tangled into the grown hair on his nape as he suddenly sucked down on the skin around my collarbones, making me grind against him slowly, biting down on my lower lip to stop a moan from escaping. Yunho licked at the abused skin and raised his head, looking me in the eyes before crashing his lips against mine again. I was hungry, wanting more and more as Yunho guided my hips against his growing member, moaning into the kiss when I gyrated my hips, long fingers bruising the skin of my hips. Our teeth clanked against each other, the sweet taste of Yunho mixed with the rum he’s been drinking all night and it was hard, too difficult, to pull away and steel my hips, when all I wanted to do was undress him and let him take me, give all of myself to him.

“Yunho,” I whispered, kissing his cheek instead when he tried to kiss me again, “You’re drunk.”

“I want you.” His voice was gravely as he whined against my cheek, “So badly, Y/N, please, I love you.”

My heart stuttered and I bit my lower lip, kissing his forehead, “I love you too, and I want you too, but not—not like this.”

Yunho sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m lucid enough to tell you that I want this.”

“Not tonight, please.” I mumbled against his skin, wanting him to be sober, not an ounce of alcohol influencing his wants and thoughts.

“I love you so much.” Yunho whispered and pressed his lips against mine, but didn’t deepen the kiss.

“And I love you just as much back.” I said with a smile and Yunho chuckled, his firm grip gone from my hips as he took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. His cheeks were flushed and I knew mine were too. My heart finally felt complete, the usual void nowhere to be found as Yunho helped me off himself, smiling and giggling as he ripped his shirt open and threw it onto the floor. Before I could stop him, he got rid of his pants too and climbed into bed, pouting and motioning for me to follow him. I chuckled and shook my head, collecting his clothes and placing them on the chair. I untied my corset and took off my pants too, but left on the shirt, as I climbed in next to Yunho. He pulled me against his body instantly, nuzzling his head against my hair and inhaling deeply as I lay on top of him, placing a hand against his cheek. Sleep stole us away way too quick tonight.

            I woke with a start, the bedsheets cold beside me, Yunho’s body missing. I shot up, instantly regretting it as my head spun, still foggy with sleep, as I rubbed my eyes and squinted. The sunshine was harsh as it shone inside through the little window and I noticed Yunho’s clothes were gone from the chair and a little piece of paper sat on top of our desk. I threw the covers off and got out of bed, walking up to the desk and grabbing the paper, reading Yunho’s neat handwritten note.

‘We had to leave at dawn, sorry I wasn’t with you when you woke up. Today’s mission is long and I don’t think I can go on without saying this, so Y/N, everything that I said and did last night, I meant it. When I return tonight, we shall talk about it.’

My heart skipped a few beats as I read the letter again, lips pulling into a small smile, cheeks flushing. The alcohol then didn’t give or take to Yunho’s actions last night, he wanted that. My heart swelled at the thought and I giggled as I shook my head, placing the paper back on the desk as I went to dress myself. I felt like abandoning the tight fabric for my torso today, and instead, grabbed the corset Wooyoung had gifted me and picked out one of my clean white shirts.

The sun was high up in the sky by the time I walked up on the deck, grabbing my binoculars in the process, taking in the few pirates standing on watch, making sure nobody tried to sneak up on our ship while we were decked down so close to the shore. Seonghwa stood on the quarterdeck, shoulders pulled back and one hand on his hip as the other held the binocular up to his eyes, looking towards land. When Hongjoong, our Captain, lead the mission, Seonghwa, his Quartermaster, stayed back to watch the ship. When Seonghwa led a mission, Hongjoong stayed with his crew. Despite my steps being light and quiet, Seonghwa heard me and turned with a smile, greeting me quietly. His long hair was pulled in a half up ponytail, sun beaming down on his tan complexion. His lips were shiny, and I just had a feeling that it was probably a gift from Bora, a sort of cream, which would hydrate his chapped lips. I chuckled at the thought as I stood next to him, looking towards the mainland, able to make out the people walking on the beach and coastline.

“Good morning.” I greeted cheerily, and Seonghwa chuckled, throwing me a questioning glance.

“Slept well?” He asked and I hummed, not saying anything more as Yeosang had walked on deck and waved our way. I waved back and Seonghwa nodded, watching as Yeosang went and climbed up on one of the shrouds. Seonghwa touched his compass, and I watched as he gripped it tightly before letting go of it, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. He had been a wreck for the six months it was missing. We hadn’t stopped until he finally found the person who had stolen it, and I couldn’t have been happier seeing Seonghwa finally regain himself. I could understand him. That compass was the only thing which reminded him that he did have a blood related family, even if they didn’t want him.

“How’s Bora doing?” I asked casually and watched as Seonghwa’s cheek caught a slight tint of pink. He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

“She was doing just fine last time we met.” He answered and I smiled at him, leaning closer.

“So, I suppose you forgave her?” My tone was light, teasing. Of course, he forgave her, I knew that. But it was always entertaining seeing Seonghwa blush. He rolled his eyes, and turned to face me.

“She proved herself to be useful, so, I decided to let it slide this time.” Seonghwa answered, and I hummed, a knowing smile appearing on my lips. Nobody who touched Seonghwa’s compass lived another day, yet this girl stole it from him and kept it for six months, and still walked away unscathed. If she wasn’t special, she’d be long dead. Seonghwa could try and play it off as nothing, but I knew it ran deeper than that. It was obvious how fond he was of her.

“Did she find any leads, then?” I asked, genuinely curious, as Seonghwa hummed.

“She found a merchant who seemed to know of a Bu family whose son disappeared twenty-five years ago.” There was a flicker of hope in Seonghwa’s voice, but it was quickly gone as he continued, “It could be anyone, however, I don’t have high hopes. I’ve been searching since I was a little boy for Bu Seolhwa and never found her…”

I felt sadness wash over me as Seonghwa’s shoulders slightly slouched, “Maybe you just didn’t have the right connections, Seonghwa, maybe Bora is close this time. Do you trust her?”

“With my life,” His voice was barely a whisper as a look of yearning crossed his face, “This Bu family seems to be from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”

“Where Hongjoong’s father found you.” I said with an encouraging smile and Seonghwa nodded, looking at me with a small smile.

“I’ll be visiting Bora and Nari next week; I’ll find out more then.”

“Good,” I hummed, my eyes widening as I remembered the delicate pearl necklace I placed aside for Bora’s sister, “Hey, I just remembered. Yunho brought back a pearl necklace a few weeks ago from one of his missions and I wanted to give it to Nari as I don’t need it…Jongho’s gifted me too many pearls by now.”

Seonghwa chuckled and looked down at his own pearl necklace from Jongho, “I’ll give it to her, she’ll be really happy.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and then allowed the comfortable silence to settle between us, as both Seonghwa and I raised our binoculars to look towards the mainland, survey the waters. Just as I was about to lower it, I noticed a boat headed our way. My eyebrows furrowed as I lowered my binocular and walked down from the quarterdeck and headed to the railing of the deck. Yeosang was climbed up high by now, the wind ruffling his fluffy hair. I raised my binocular again, about to shout at the pirates to load their guns, but it was Wooyoung. He was rowing towards our ship frantically, a body laying by his feet. My eyebrows furrowed and heartbeat slightly picked up, wondering who that was. If they were coming back, it meant that it was serious.

“Seonghwa!” I called back, turning to look up at him, “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes!” Seonghwa called down as he took off from his position, and approached me quickly. The boat has almost reached us. Seonghwa looked into his binoculars again and sucked in a sharp breath, but before I could look too, he gripped my arm and turned to me, face gravely, “Lower the ladder, now.”

Yeosang and I had designed a wooden ladder, without stairs, which we threw over the side of the ship to make it easier to travel up and down from it. It was optimal when we decked down in a port or close to the beach, where we didn’t need to us a boat to get closer to the shore. The water wasn’t too deep here, but the wooden ladder couldn’t be usable, so I threw Seonghwa a confused glance until I saw the seriousness on his face.

“Seonghwa!” I could hear Wooyoung shouting over the sounds of the waves crashing and wind blowing as his boat was closer, “I need help!”

Yeosang noticed that I was struggling with lifting the wooden ladder, so he came over and helped me, throwing it overboard as it slammed against the water loudly.

“I need Yeosang!” I could hear Wooyoung still shouting, “Yunho’s been injured, he can’t stand—he’s not responding!”

My world seemed to pause for a few seconds as I watched Seonghwa run past me and jump over the railing, sliding down the wooden ladder to get to Wooyoung and Yunho. Yunho. He was injured. He wasn’t responding—as if I had just resurfaced from underneath cold water, my body flinched and tensed up, and I was running to the wooden ladder, Yeosang’s firm grip pulling me away from the railing as he stared softly into my eyes.

“Let Wooyoung and Seonghwa take him up, Y/N, you can’t help.”

“I have to!” I screamed, trying to fight away Yeosang’s grip, but he wasn’t budging, “Yeosang, please!”

He sighed, but shook his head as I heard Seonghwa and Wooyoung struggling just a few feet away from us, “You know you can’t help them.”

He was right, I really couldn’t. The ladder couldn’t hold four people at once, it was me who designed it, I was supposed to know. But Yunho was there, injured. I couldn’t just stand and do nothing—my eyes snapped to the railing as Seonghwa’s head showed.

“Yeosang, come help.” He instructed and Yeosang was gone in a flash, leaning over the railing and pulling over Yunho’s limp body, my feet rooted in one place. I stared wide eyed at Yunho’s unconscious body, lips parted and hair sticking to his forehead. His white shirt had turned red at the front, cut across his chest, a wide gash gapping at anyone who looked at it. My hands pressed against my mouth as I felt my eyes fill with tears, Yeosang kneeled next to Yunho, two fingers pressed against his artery, checking for a pulse. He cursed, Yeosang never does that. Wooyoung hopped over the railing, hands and vest bloody, as his panicked eyes fell on me and he sucked in a harsh breath, instantly approaching me.

“Seonghwa, we need to take him to his room, right now.” Yeosang’s deep voice was frantic and Seonghwa was by his side, grabbing Yunho’s shoulders as Yeosang lifted him by the legs, and they started walking away, headed towards our room. I didn’t realize I was trembling until Wooyoung pulled me into a tight hug, something wet hitting my neck, snapping me out of my frozen state. My heart was hammering against my chest, and despite not meaning to be so harsh, I pushed Wooyoung off of me, staring at him with wide eyes as he started crying.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I was supposed to be on look out and kill anyone who approached the warehouse—I didn’t know they had sneaked in through the back until I heard Yunho screaming—” No. I couldn’t listen to that right now. No, not when the love of my life was possibly dying in our bed. I didn’t think or wait for Wooyoung as I took off, running past the pirates who tried to stop me and hold me back, shouting after me that I needed to let Yeosang work in peace and silence, but I couldn’t hear them. I had to get to Yunho. So, I raced down the stairs and crashed into the wall painfully, but I didn’t care as I ran down the long hallway, heart beating frantically as I arrived to our shared room, just as Seonghwa closed the door in my face.

“No! Let me in!” I screamed at the top of my lungs and tried to open the door, but the knob wouldn’t turn. They had locked the door. Locked me outside, with Yunho inside, separated us at such a crucial time. What if he didn’t get to live? What if he wanted to see me? What if I never got to see the glint in his eyes again? The smile on his face? What if I never got to feel his warm body against mine, his warmth engulfing my whole being? I started sobbing loudly and banging my fists against the door, screaming at Seonghwa and Yeosang to let me inside, to let me see Yunho. Before I could start kicking too, arms wrapped tightly around me from behind, and I was hauled back.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, trying to free myself, but the person was strong, “Yunho!”

My voice broke at the scream of his name and suddenly, I was turned around and my head was pressed against Wooyoung’s chest as he shushed me, petting my head, hugging me tightly against himself.

“You need to let them work in silence, Y/N.” He whispered against my ear, “Yeosang has to concentrate. You know he can save him; he’s saved so many others so many times, but he needs the quiet, Y/N.”

“I have to be in there, next to him—”

“You’d just distract them, Y/N,” Wooyoung cut my words off, “Please, have faith in him and Yunho. He’s strong, he’s a fighter.”

“I know.” I mumbled with a sob as I allowed my body to go numb in Wooyoung’s hold, tears streaming down my face without stopping. I couldn’t let my thoughts swallow me whole as horrible scenarios of Yunho’s death kept coming to the front of my mind, taunting me, making me cry harder. I couldn’t lose my best friend. I couldn’t lose the love of my life. Not yet. Not when we had finally given in to each other. Wooyoung’s grip tightened as he lowered us to the ground, pulling me into his lap and petting my hair, humming a tune only he seemed to know, his body warmth so comforting right now. I would’ve crumbled without him being here, without someone anchoring me. Yunho was my everything. Without him, life wasn’t worth living anymore.

Sometime ago Seonghwa had left the room, but with a sharp look, I knew I wasn’t allowed inside yet. He said nothing, just shook his head at Wooyoung, and walked off to clean himself up. I had stopped crying, only to start again when Yunho’s painful screams ricocheted off the walls, traveling through the wooden door separating the two of us. I was so close to him, yet not allowed to offer him any support from up close. I hated it. I wanted to barge in and just hold him, cradle his head to my chest while Yeosang fixed him up. But if he was screaming, he was still breathing, and as painful as it was, I couldn’t help but let out a breath each time I heard it, thanking the Gods that he was still among us, still feeling, still living. I had moved out of Wooyoung’s lap as I sat against the wall, head fallen back against it, hand holding Wooyoung’s as he rubbed my knuckles in a calming manner, my nerves slightly loosening before my muscles tensed back up. I felt bad for him, but nothing could truly comfort me right now. I only needed Yunho. To know that he was safe, far away from death’s grasp. It felt like hours had passed as I sat in the hallway, the chatter of the pirates on deck traveling all the way down here, Yunho’s occasional screams interrupting the peace, and Wooyoung’s humming when I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, body trembling in fear and empathy for Yunho. And then finally, somehow, that cursed wooden door opened just slightly for Yeosang to step through. I didn’t think I had enough power in me, but I sprung up to my feet, ready to bounce inside, but Yeosang’s dishevelled appearance made me pause, eyes taking in his bloody clothes and hands. Even his cheeks were smudged with blood, and suddenly, I felt nauseous. What if Yunho didn’t make it? What if all that blood…was because Yeosang couldn’t save him?

“I stitched him up, the wound was very deep.” Yeosang’s deep voice was tired as he sighed loudly, “He fell unconscious, but he’s still breathing. And his pulse had gotten a lot more stable, I’m confident he’s out of harms way, he will survive, Y/N, he’s as fine as he can be.”

A weight was taken off my shoulders as my body shuddered and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from sobbing again. Yeosang stepped aside and lightly pushed the door open to me, “You can go see him, I’m done.”

“Thank you, Yeosang.” I didn’t care of the blood as I hugged the doctor tightly, conveying my emotions into that one hug, so grateful for him. Yeosang mumbled a simple ‘I would’ve never let him die’, before I released him and entered the room, instantly hit by the iron smell of Yunho’s blood. It was strong, but I noticed the small window was opened to allow fresh air inside. My steps faltered for a second as I noticed all the bloody rags on the floor next to our bed, and I gulped, eyes slowly falling on Yunho. He was sprawled out on our bed, sheets bloody too, and torso naked as his chest fell and rose rhythmically, lips slightly parted. There was a wide gash going from his left shoulder down to his ribs on his right side of the torso, skin red and raw, stitches carefully and neatly done. Yunho’s eyebrows were furrowed, but his face seemed relaxed as his fingers kept flexing and then unflexing. I approached him carefully, scared that I would wake him up, as I kneeled down next to our bed, eyes piercing his face. I counted the seconds as he breathed, reassuring myself that he was alright. I wiped the tears off my cheeks as they started falling again, but I couldn’t help it, not when the love of my life was so close to death. So close to being taken away from me. I hated these bloody missions he had to go on.

“I know you’re here.” Yunho croaked out and my heartbeat stuttered as he reached his long fingers out towards me, the ring with the letter A glinting on his forefinger. I bit my lower lip and quickly intertwined our fingers, the warmth of his hand another reminder that Yunho was alive. Breathing. Blood flowing through his veins.

“Yunho—” My voice broke as I started crying again, trying to not sob as a serene smile appeared on his lips, “Yunho, I was so scared.”

“I know, baby, I was too.” He whispered, lazily opening one eye before the other. He looked tired, eyelids threatening to drop any minute. I squeezed our hands tighter together, our similar rings digging into each other’s skins.

“You can never again do this to me, do you understand?” I demanded, eyebrows furrowing as Yunho nodded slowly, eyes boring into mine with adoration and sorry.

“I promise I won’t, Y/N.” I sniffed, wiping my tears off with my other hand.

“Good.” I whispered and raised his hand, pressing my lips against his palm. Yunho hummed deeply and smiled, closing his eyes, looking like he was in haven. He was quite close to getting there, actually.

“I love you.” Yunho whispered suddenly, “More than a friend, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, the only woman in my life. I don’t need anyone else, just you. You make me happy and feel like the luckiest man in the four seas and four kingdoms, Y/N, I love you so much.”

I bit my lower lip as a wide smile stretched on my lips, my cheeks flushing, my heart swelling. Could you truly love someone else this much? I found myself nodding at my own question, “I love you too so much, Yunho, I cannot imagine my life without you by my side. Please stay with me forever.”

“I will.” Yunho opened his eyes and looked deeply into mine, glint back in his gaze. It took me a second to realize what that was. It was love. Passionate and irrevocable. Burning me up and making me yearn for more and more as I leaned over the bed, towards Yunho’s face, and pressed my lips daintily against his. Yunho kissed me back and we both smiled into the kiss as the door opened, a deep chuckle echoing behind me.

“A few more kisses might just heal him faster, Y/N.” Yeosang said teasingly as he came back to gather the bloody rags, staring down at us happily as I pulled away from Yunho, flustered that someone caught us kissing.

“They might just.” I heard Yunho mutter to himself as he allowed his body to relax, eyelids fluttering shut, growing heavy against the sheets which smelled like us. I held Yunho’s hand as I continued kneeling on the floor, watching him sleep and thank the Gods for letting him see the sunset and sunrise once again.

I never knew you could love someone so ardently, that it ate you up, burned your whole being. I never dared imagine what it felt like when the person you love loved you back just as passionately, their whole world revolving only around you. But I knew now that it all would be fine. That nothing could break us apart, having sealed our bond for a lifetime. And staring at Yunho, I knew that I had found my soulmate, the only person in the whole world who understood me and would never abandon me.

Sneaking on this ship with him ten years ago was the smartest decision I have ever taken.

Next part (divider)

#bvidzsoo #ateez series #ateez fluff #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #jeong yunho #yunho ateez #yunho angst #yunho smut #ateez angst #ateez smut #yunho oneshot #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez pirate au #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

[bi-bard]

No Saints Ever Watched Over Me - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: No Saints Ever Watched Over Me

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Sun Summoner!Reader

Word Count: 1,798 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence

Summary: Kaz held onto the belief that no saints had looked out for him and none were in a rush to rescue him. When forced to face the very saint that he refused to believe in, will Kaz accept that he was wrong or continue on his path of denial and avoidance?

Author's Note: Here's how one piece of dialogue made me want to throw all sorts of canon to the wolves just so this idea could happen.

---------------------------

At some point, hiding became as natural as breathing.

My parents taught me to hide before most things.

They were the only ones who knew about my... condition that I hadn't directly told.

They had seen the sunlight that coursed through my veins. The prophecy unfolding in their very home. The future presented to them on a silver platter.

They knew what would happen if I was ever discovered. They never wanted me to hear, but I did. They knew that I would be hunted for the rest of my life. That I would be shoved into harm's way in the name of Ravka. Men would be happy to watch my blood spill for their battles if they were wrapped in the flag of their country.

I was young when a group of men showed up at their door.

My dad took me away. As far away as he could. My mom didn't have a chance.

When he knew that what was happening was inevitable, he told me to run. Run, hide, and never tell anyone about my gift.

I was alone.

I never saw my power as a gift. Especially not after that day. In one swoop, this "gift" had taken everything from me.

And I still had to survive despite that.

I settled in Ketterdam. Alone and terrified. I needed to find work and a place to stay while I was still very young.

Working with Kaz Brekker was an accident more than anything else. It had been a few years since I had seemed to plant my feet on the ground. I had made friends with Jesper, who had offered me a chance to make myself a decent amount of money.

After that, Kaz seemed to come to me for every mission they had. I don't know why. As far as he was able to know, Kaz could have found a hundred people who were just like me.

Granted, I didn't have to keep working with him. I could have taken another job. But I didn't. Working with Kaz just felt right. Working with the Crows felt right.

I was a regular part of the team.

It was nice.

None of them seemed willing to say it out loud but it was like having a family. A real family for the first time in ages.

I kept my... situation private. They didn't truly need to know.

However, I knew that it would be foolish to think that I could hide it from them forever. It did take them longer than

Inej was the first to find out.

Kaz had noticed that something was "off" about me. Something was different. He couldn't figure out what that thing was. And Kaz Brekker hated not knowing everything about a situation.

He sent her to spy on me for the night. Follow me. See who I did business with, who I met for drinks, who I brought home with me (which I never did).

I had been curled at the foot of my bed after a long, exhausting day. I was tired and sad and angry all at the same time. I needed something of comfort. I allowed a ball of sunlight to form in my hand and sit in my palm. The fog and dreariness of Ketterdam didn't allow for one to enjoy a moment in the sunshine, so I had to make my own.

Inej must have caught me just as I was sitting there with it.

Not that she told me.

Instead, she went straight back to Kaz with what she had learned.

I could imagine what his reaction was. The disbelief, the anger at the insistence, and the dismissal of the whole event with some comment about it all being some clever trick on my part.

I hope she asked him what the point of a trick was when I was alone.

I only found out that Inej knew when I was told to go meet Kaz in his office. As I passed the bar, Inej and Jesper watched me go by. I watched Inej's hand move to her forehead and chest. I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment. I hadn't told her anything, so why did she do that?

Kaz was standing behind his desk when I walked in.

"Close the door," he instructed bluntly. I did so.

I walked over to stand across from him, waiting for some indication of what this was all about.

"What are you," he asked.

I paused for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"What are you?" he repeated, putting an emphasis on each word.

"I'm (Y/n), you allow me to work with you because I can fight, and you said that I can be pretty clever-"

"I said what, not who."

"Will you just tell me what this is about," I asked. "I clearly don't know."

"I had Inej follow you last night."

"Kaz!"

"You were hiding something from me," he tried to explain.

"So you sent someone to watch me? That is incredibly invasive!"

"She saw your trick," he continued. "The sunlight in your hand."

I felt frozen. The motion at the bar suddenly made sense to me. Inej was firm in her beliefs. Private, but firm. She saw me and thought that I was the saint that the stories were about.

"How did you do it?"

"I... I just can," I shrugged. "You think it was a trick."

"I know it was a trick," he replied. "The sun summoner wouldn't hide away in Ketterdam."

I took a deep breath. "My parents paid for me to get here. They knew what I was. They knew what would happen if the Grisha got their hands on me. It was meant to protect me. I kept my head down. I stayed quiet. Worked with you for money because it was the safest choice I had at the time."

Kaz didn't speak up. He didn't truly believe me. Not entirely. I wasn't surprised by that. Kaz had trust issues when it came to normal people. Never mind... someone like me.

I took a step away from the desk. I let a ball of sunlight form in my hand.

Kaz slowly walked around the desk. He studied me, stepping in a small circle around me. He was looking for the trick. The effect. Some sign that what Inej had seen was wrong.

He stopped in front of his desk again.

I closed my hand, scuffing out the sunlight.

"You are never to do that unless in the presence of me, Inej, and Jesper. Understood?"

"I know how to hide," I replied. "I've been doing this for a long time now."

He just nodded to me.

I kept to that agreement as best I could. I never showed my gift outside of my room. The only time anyone else saw it was when Inej came by, begging to know if it was all true.

She tried to praise me. Call me a saint.

I didn't let her. I begged her to not see me as a hero because I wasn't one. I had no interest in being one. All I wanted was some semblance of normalcy. She respected that.

My agreement with Kaz didn't crumble until I saw it as absolutely necessary.

He had told me to join him to get through the door of some place.

He had been doing that more and more. Having me work directly by his side. I had no interest in questioning it, but I did notice it.

It had been going well. However, the number of guards had been greatly underestimated.

The only part that I truly remember was one of the guards choking Kaz. His cane had been thrown across the room from him. I didn't have the physical strength to stop the guard. I knew that.

So, as if on instinct, I threw a ball of sunlight at him.

He fell to the ground, allowing Kaz to lean back against the wall and catch his breath.

I ran over to grab his cane. I walked over slowly, holding it out to him. He snatched it from my hand, an angry look taking over his features.

"Are you alright," I asked.

He didn't bother with my question, instead posing one of his own, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That you were about to die."

“You could have gotten yourself killed, hunted! All that you have claimed to have been terrified of!”

"You would truly rather die by the hand of your own stubbornness than ever thank someone for their help," I rolled my eyes.

"You agreed to never use your powers around others! I don't need you to save me!"

I scoffed at him. “Kaz, I understand that you think you’re invincible, but please believe me when I say that you are nowhere close.”

“And you are?” he stepped closer to me.

“Would you like to compare a list of things that I could survive versus what you could survive? I really don’t think you would because you would end up quite embarrassed!”

Kaz’s jaw clenched as he merely continued glaring. As if he were stunned that I had the nerve to yell at him the way I did. To question his power and control and leadership the way I did.

“I hate to tell you this, but you have people who care for you, Kaz Brekker,” I continued. “There are people that actually don’t want you dead. Let them help you. That’s why you have a crew in the first place.”

"Don't claim to be my savior."

"Don't claim that you never need to be saved!"

The silence after that was tense. He was angry and the boss of the whole gang. I was angry and able to scorch the earth beneath his feet.

"We have work to do," I finally muttered, walking around him.

"What happened to keeping your... affliction a secret," he asked as I did so.

I stopped at the door, turning back to him. "If the choice was letting you die or exposing my secret, then the choice would be you. Every single time."

There was a long pause before Kaz spoke up, "Why?"

There was another, even longer pause. "Is it not obvious?"

His face didn't shift. Not at all.

I had some feeling in my chest that he knew the answer to his question long before he asked it. Maybe he just needed the personal confirmation. Maybe he wanted me to say something entirely different so that it would bring some comfort. Allow him some escape route from his own feelings.

"Can we go now," I asked.

He nodded. "Fine."

Kaz may not have believed in saints. But I would like to believe that some part of him believed in me.

And that was enough for me.

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#kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #freddy carter imagine #freddy carter fanfiction #freddy carter x reader

[luveline]

hotch baby blurb idea bc i too am obsessed with the man: bau!reader where the team goes to a cold cold place (like alaska) and she accidentally brings her summer go-bag so hotch lets her borrow one of his quarter-zip ones? he can't stop staring at her all snuggled in his clothes <33

thank you for your request! ♥︎ fem!reader (I tried to keep reader's size ambiguous but this is clothes sharing so)

Hotch is waiting for you and Emily amicably outside of your hotel room when the door finally opens, two minutes late. His eyes widen at your short sleeves. 

"It's very cold," Hotch says, looking you up and down in surprise. "I'm not one to correct the fashion choices of my associates, but I think you'll need your coat, L/N." 

Hotch feels your stress before you've opened your mouth. You're unusually self-conscious, your lips twisted with a mixture of apology and sheepishness. 

"Sir, I've brought the wrong bag. I don't have a coat." 

"You don't have one," he says. Unnecessarily. He doesn't mean to make you feel worse or anything, he's just surprised. 

"No. Sorry. I'll be okay, though." 

"We're in Alaska," Emily says, giving her own apologetic frown. "I didn't have anything... suitable." 

Her word choice makes him suspicious but there isn't time to waste probing for answers. He unlocks the door to his own room and slips inside. He searches through his clothes quickly for the loose fitting quarter zip he knows is inside, and grabs it without thinking about it anymore. 

He opens his door and offers you the quarter zip. "I know it isn't perfect, but you're welcome to it. Otherwise we'll have to break out the company Amex." You don't have time for shopping, and thankfully the quarter zip looks just fine when you thrust your elbow inside and drag it over your head. 

It looks better than fine. 

There's an awkward silence. Hotch deals with it by not dealing with it, gesturing for you and Emily to start toward the stairs down to the hotel foyer. 

And so begins his private hell. All day he witnesses you in his clothes, wishing it had no effect on him. If it were anyone else on the team it wouldn't mean a thing. Too bad it's you, lovely you. You pull the zipper down at dinner and he feels his breath catch every time he spots the bare triangle of your skin beneath it. You rub your cheek against the collar with a small smile and he wonders if he would've been better off taking you to the store for a jacket.

You walk upstairs for the night together. Hotch had sent everybody to bed hours ago. You're the only one stubborn enough to insist on staying up to work the case with him. 

"Hotch," you say, as he's pushing open the door. 

He pauses. You shrug out of his clothes, which is, by far, much worse than you shrugging into them. You dig your elbow into the hemline and tug it up over your head, your back arched, chest extended toward him. 

He clenches his fist around nothing. Your smiling, bashful face appears as you pull out your arms. You hastily tuck it the right way around. 

"Here," you say, stepping closer to him. You've never been very good at professional space. "Thank you for letting me borrow it." 

It smells like you. 

He encourages it back toward your chest as he schools his expression.

"It'll still be cold tomorrow. Keep it." 

You nod slowly. "Yeah, okay. Thank you. You'll get it back eventually, I promise." 

He'd say you could keep it forever if he thought he might survive another day of you in his clothes. As it stands, he might not make it through the day. But at least you'll be warm. 

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xii - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 2,600+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Wax leaked off the tables and onto the floor of the war room in the Forest House. It was late in the evening, but there was always work to be done.

“We should move our forces to the south east borders.” Eris pointed to the precise area. “The mortal queen, Briallyn, is still not to be underestimated. And our pathetic High Lord of Spring cannot be trusted with protecting his own borders from any movement in the mortal lands.” 

His comrades nodded in understanding. 

Before Eris could continue his orders, he was struck with a distant feeling. 

It was Y/N, that he was sure of.

But it wasn’t fear or panic that he had experienced in the past. Y/N wasn’t in danger.

No.

She was…She was sad.

The feel from the bond was lower, sitting in his gut and almost making him feel somewhat nauseous. His body felt like it had been filled with sand.

“Anything else, Lord Eris?” One of captains asked. 

Eris cleared his throat, pushing down Y/N’s feeling. “No. I require daily updates on the movement of each infantry.”

All the captains replied in unison with, “Yes, General Eris.” And with a bow of each their heads, they left the war room, leaving the heir of Autumn Court alone once again. 

Eris started pacing the room now that he had no observers. 

He wanted to go to her. It was almost more jarring than knowing she was hurt. Placing Y/N in Night Court was out of protection for her, but Eris had also always hoped she’d be happy there. 

If anyone in Rhysand’s court has done anything to upset her… He thought angrily. 

Then he remembered the gifts he had gathered for her. 

After Y/N had freely given Eris all of her merchandise of witchcraft, it had given him her promised effects. The candles actually brought him a full-night’s sleep. And even on his most stressful and tiring days, the eucalyptus eased his mind as he took his nightly baths. His mate took care of him even when she did not know the truth of their connection. 

So, Eris couldn’t help but return the favor. Perhaps it was foolish, but he couldn't help himself.

Go to her. Go to her later tonight, his heart sang to him.  

It would be easy to sneak away at this time of night. The servants and courtiers of the Forest House were familiar enough with his routine that they expected him to retire to his bedchambers for the evening. No one would come looking for him unless there was some kind of an emergency. And even then, no one would dare question his absence out of mere fear. 

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Through their bond, Eris somehow knew to go to the House of Wind instead of Y/N’s shop. It would be long closed anyway. 

“Where are you?” Eris muttered lowly to himself. 

But someone answered. 

Not someone. Something. 

Torches of faelight started igniting, clearly pointing him in a direction. 

Eris looked up to the ceiling. “Sentient are we?” He almost sounded annoyed by the revelation.

Magic he was blindsided by always made him uneasy and irritated with himself for not being fully prepared for any and all situations. 

But he followed the directions still. 

The faelights didn’t stop until he had gone up a staircase that brought him outdoors. He quickly realized he was on the roof and what lay before him was a training ring. 

Eris quickly remembered what Lucien had mentioned about Y/N training with the Valkyries. Her scent lingered here – along with other various females. This had to be where the group of female warriors trained. 

Then he spotted her. 

Y/N was on the other side of the training ring – alone – shooting arrow after arrow at an impressive distance. Every shot hit true, landing in the bullseyes of various targets. 

Yet Eris felt no pride or relief or contentment coming from his mate. 

He stepped out of the shadows of the stairway, and started to slowly clap. 

Y/N whipped around, an arrow already knocked as if he were her foe. 

But as soon as she recognized Eris, she lowered her bow and let out the breath she was holding. 

“Eris,” she gasped. “What are you doing here?” 

When Y/N started walking toward him, she also walked out of shadow and underneath the moonlight. And that’s when Eris was able to see that Y/N’s eyes were somewhat bloodshot and the skin below was puffy. 

She’d been crying. 

Eris’ nostrils flared. Who had made his mate cry?

“What’s happened?” He asked firmly. 

“N-Nothing,” Y/ stuttered. “I was just practicing…”

“You’ve been crying,” Eris pointed out, tilting his head as if daring her to challenge him like he were some fool. 

So Y/N just looked at him and swallowed; she’d given up on lying to the male, yet also refused to confess what had made her so upset. 

And Eris wasn’t going to push her. 

Why would he expect her to open up to him?

It wasn’t as if he were anyone to Y/N. To her, he was just a stuck up High Fae, heir to a monster, a male all of her friends openly disliked. 

So...Eris decided to take a different route. 

He nodded to the bow in her grasp. “Can you use a sword or do you only excel at archery?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes in challenge. 

She walked over to a row of training equipment, and grabbed two practice swords. They were made of wood – less dangerous than a real blade, but it could still seriously bruise and even concuss one’s training partner if there was a strong blow to the head. 

Y/N tossed one to Eris, who caught it smoothly. 

“Have these Illyrian’s been teaching you to fight like a brute?” He taunted, getting into proper fighting stance. 

Something flickered in Y/N’s gaze as he said ‘Illyrian,’ and it didn’t go amiss by him. 

Without giving her warning, Eris lunged for Y/N. 

She managed to block his swing – but it was almost too late. 

Eris took it easy on her, but he almost didn’t have to. He was over five centuries older than her – and a general. The fight wasn’t exactly fair. Though he hated to admit, the Illyrians had trained Y/N well. It was clear they had taught her tactics to hold her own with a fae, while she was mortal. But with this training and her witchcraft, she would be a challenging foe for most fae warriors. 

The longer they fought and Y/N held her own, the more light returned to her gaze. The sadness she had greeted Eris with almost completely gone. 

But Eris still wanted to know what had upset her in the first place. 

And he could also see that her energy was nearing its end. Her blocks were weaker and her attacks were slower. 

So, he finally took out her footing, forcing her to fall onto her back and he leaned before her, wooden sword at her throat. 

“How’d I do?” Y/N asked him between heavy gasps. She was incapable of stopping her beaming smile. 

In return, Eris couldn’t stop his amused grin. “You have much to learn still.”

Y/N seemed to be expecting such a retort and wasn’t offended in the least. Instead, she merely laughed. 

“Well, I don’t have centuries of training, do I?” She pointed out and raised her brows. 

Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips. 

“Plan on releasing me, Lord Eris? Or shall I play dead for the rest of the evening?” 

Eris swore his heart skipped a beat. 

He frowned to save his pride and stood back up, offering her a hand. 

She took it with a smile. 

Eris looked around at the training ring just to stop himself from getting lost in her gaze again. “Why do you train with them? The Valkyries.”

Y/N’s amusement disappeared as she took looked around the ring. “The females here…some train to regain their power. But others…others like Nesta wish for more.”

Eris locked eyes with her once more. “I didn’t ask about them. I asked about you.” 

Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she whispered, “I wish to survive. I don’t ever want to feel helpless again.” 

Eris caught a shiver go through her body. The temperature had already been cold upon his arrival and it was only getting colder. 

Without saying anything, he took off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders. 

She seemed taken aback by the gesture and gaped at him. 

“You mortals are fickle things, catching illnesses so easily.” Eris stated coldly. “It is astounding you haven’t gone completely extinct because of it…”

Y/N laughed. “You know...you don’t have to say something cruel after every good deed, Eris.”

The sound of her laughter alone struck Eris’ heart like lightning. 

“Tell me why you were crying earlier tonight,” he demanded. 

Her smile dropped. Y/N hadn’t expected him to truly care. 

She looked at the ground as she softly replied, “You will laugh.”

“I would never laugh at anything that brought you to tears.” 

And there she was again, shocked by his words. 

“I saw someone tonight who I thought might have…” She hesitated. “Who I thought might have cared for me – as more than just a friend, that is.” 

Eris merely waited for her to continue.

“Earlier tonight, one of them was meant to take me home, like they always do. But he never showed up. No one did. So, I just went to a pub after I closed the shop – alone." She visually winced. "Then I saw him there…with her. It was so clear from the way they looked at each other…”

Y/N needn’t say more. 

She shook her head and huffed out a laugh. “It’s silly when I say it aloud. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so upset by it.”

Eris had managed to accept the idea of Y/N loving another male. Though he knew it wouldn’t be easy, it was the best choice for her. 

However, Eris had never considered her loving a man who was beneath her. It was silly that such an outcome had never occurred to him. He knew the evils of males more than most. Why had he just assumed Y/N would end up with a male who was worthy? 

Learning that Y/N’s past lovers were less than sufficient, bordering on male chauvinists, made Eris want to hunt each one of them down and make them beg for mercy from Y/N on their knees. 

And he would teach them a thing or two about courting…

But to see her mistreated, ignored, pushed aside from another female in real time was not something Eris could’ve ever prepared himself for. 

Azriel had blatantly forgotten about Y/N. And it only made worse that he'd done so because he was sneaking around with Elain.

Eris stepped to her with a stern look. “Never lessen your emotions. What is the point of stopping yourself from feeling them?”

Though his words still came through his harsh mask, they hit Y/N’s heart. 

“Shall I kill him?” Eris suddenly asked him. 

Y/N’s widened in horror. “W-W-What?!”

“It is the Spymaster you speak of, no?” 

“H-How did you…” Then she blinked rapidly. “Please do not kill anyone!” 

“I truly would not mind,” Eris continued as he dug out nonexistent dirt from beneath his flawless fingernails. “It would be my pleasure.” 

“Is it so obvious, my infatuation for him?” Y/N muttered in embarrassment. 

“The Illyrian is beneath you. Why dwell on such questions? He would rather chase after my brother’s mate. Perhaps one day Lucien will grow a backbone and invoke the blood duel…”

Y/N stiffened. “Blood duel? What is that?”

“An Autumn Court tradition,” Eris answered, almost sounding bored. “If a male tries to even so much as court a female who has a waiting mate, the male mate can challenge him to a blood duel. It is a battle to the death. It is part of the old ways, and rarely is it ever invoked.”

Y/N’s expression was utterly horrified. “B-But Lucien would never do such a thing.” 

Eris shrugged. “How can you be so certain?” 

Though he knew she was right: Lucien was cunning and dangerous when he wanted to be. But he would never inflict such pain onto anyone for such petty reasons. 

“Because despite Elain ignoring their bond, Lucien would never take away any form of happiness she has found,” Y/N answered with confidence. 

The sincerity of her response made it impossible for Eris to continue to tease her or belittle his youngest brother. 

Then he asked, "How did you get back to the House of Wind?"

This court was meant to be taking care of his mate. Not forgetting in her the streets, unable to return home at the end of the night.

"I practically ran out of the pub and back to my store. I was planning on just sleeping there for the night. But I ran into Rhysand – quite literally. I think he knew I was upset. But he was kind enough not to ask. I would've lied to him anyway..."

But Y/N had enough of the topic and looked at Eris with determination now.

“I have told you my secret of the night,” she began. “In return, I think sharing why you are in Night Court is fair enough.” 

“I had something to give you,” he replied easily. 

Her brows shut up. “Oh?” 

“It seems the rumors of your talents were not exaggerated. You remedied my restlessness with mere candles.”

“Enchanted candles,” she corrected. “It involves spells. Not just wax.” 

Eris gave her an irritated look before waving his hand. In the blink of an eye, a dagger and bow appeared in his grasp. 

Immediately, the craftsmanship of both was not missed by Y/N. 

When she didn’t take them from him instantly, Eris stepped forward, almost shoving the gifts toward her. 

The dagger was sheathed in Autumn Court red. The handle was gold with red and green gemstones decorating it.

When Y/N finally grasped it, the weight was almost nothing, yet it still felt like a strong and deadly weapon. 

The bow was a rich gold and chestnut, almost perfectly fitting the Autumn Court aesthetic.

Y/N flicked the string to try it out, and smiled at its aptitude. This was like no bow she had ever owned. 

Eris could no longer handle her silence and stiffly said, “I hope they are to your liking.” 

He spoke as if this were a business transaction. 

“To my liking?” Y/N repeated. “These are the finest weapons I’ve ever touched in my life – let alone merely seen.” Then her eyes shot up to his. “I cannot except such grandiose gifts.” 

She even tried handing them back to Eris. But he shook his head and grasped his hands behind his back.

“I am the son of a High Lord, it was no inconvenience.” 

“It is not an equal trade,” Y/N argued, growing more exasperated. 

Eris ignored her pleas. “Lucien mentioned that you were talented with the bow. I am glad I was able to see it for myself tonight.” 

Then something shifted with Y/N.

“I don’t understand…” She muttered slowly and quietly. “Why are you so short and insolent to everyone, yet all you’ve ever shown me is kindness?” 

“Don’t misinterpret my recompense as kindness. Now we are even.”

“Hardly…” Y/N scoffed, looking down at her gifts again. 

"I simply do not like owing favors," he added for good measure.

"Is that how you view everything?" Y/N sounded sad. "If someone is kind to you, you think they will eventually use it against you?"

Eris didn't have the heart to tell her that was exactly how he viewed everything. It was what came with power – and it was how his father had conditioned him to live. Perhaps he didn't realize how truly difficult it would've been for him to unlearn.

So he ignored her question. And luckily Y/N didn't push.

Eris looked around as if some imaginary person was waiting for him to leave. “I should probably be going.”

But really there was a warmth that had formed in his chest since he helped Y/N off the ground. And it was starting to panic him. The bond made Eris want to be near Y/N at every moment. But he knew he was starting to play a risky game. 

“Wait,” Y/N stepped forward hurriedly, expecting him to winnow the next second. 

With her rush, she hadn’t realized how close she had brought the two of them. 

Her face heated from their closeness. And she looked at the ground for a moment before whispering, “Thank you. For the bow and dagger.” She gave him a sad smile before softly adding, “And for making me feel…less alone.” 

And before Eris could try to muster up a harsh reply or belittle his gift to her, Y/N leaned in and placed a soft kiss against his right cheek. 

It was so innocent. So pure. 

Yet, Eris swore his world stopped. 

His old self would ridicule him for how he was reacting to a kiss on the cheek. You have had countless harems of women, you fool, Eris could hear himself chiding. Pull yourself together before you embarrass yourself. 

Y/N didn’t seem to regret her innocent kiss. But she did add with a smirk, “I promise I won’t tell the others how kind you are to me."

“They would never believe you anyway,” Eris returned. 

"But more more importantly, Eris..." Her eyes darkened with sincerity. "I will never use your kindness against you."

Her finally statement knocked the breath from Eris.

And with it, he windowed from the Night Court and away from his mate. 

When he returned to the Forest House, Eris couldn’t ignore that his heart had never beat harder in his centuries of living.

––––––––

Thank you of much for your patience. My life got a little crazy with traveling and work.

Please let me know if you liked the chapter 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

chapter xiii

#eris acotar #gust & flame #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #night court #inner circle #eris reader insert #chapter xii #chapter 12 #eris vanserra #eris

[lunarbuck]

Baby, It's Cold Outside (Stuckyxf!reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You’ve been friends with Steve and Bucky for quite some time, but when you accept to spend the holidays with them in a cabin, friendship evolves into something more.

Warnings: friends to lovers <3, stucky, fluff, smut (p in v, p in a?), anal, oral (m and f receiving), threesome - F/M/M, polyamory, pet names [doll, baby, princess], unprotected sex 

A/N: not only is this my first time writing a Steve fic, it’s also my first time writing for a threesome… please let me know how I did/if this is something you’d like to see more of :) please also let me know if I did anything wrong!!! I want to learn <3 beta’d by the literal best, @lfnr-blog-blog-blog 💕

main masterlist | bucky one shot masterlist | my ao3

The holidays are always a tricky time of year. No one has a perfect family, and even if that problem-free family exists, you bet even they have some trouble around the holidays. You know from experience that the holiday season brings out the worst in people, so when Bucky and Steve offered to have a holiday celebration with just the three of you, you couldn’t pass it up.

You’d gone just a little overboard with their presents, but how could you not? The two of them treat you better than anyone else in your life, and you just want to show them you’re thankful.

So now, as you sit in the backseat of the car, watching the world fly by, you’re thankful that the world brought the three of you together.

You’d been working at the Tower for some time before you ever crossed paths with Captain America and his friend, the Winter Soldier. Honestly, working in legal, it was bound to happen. It was an instant connection, and you’ve been friends ever since. Inseparable, practically attached at the hip.

Steve drives carefully as he eases off the highway and onto a little side road, taking the three of you further away from civilization and closer to the cozy little cabin you’ll be staying in for the next few days.

It’s easy to lose yourself as you watch Steve drive. The way his strong hands grip the steering wheel, the way his blue eyes reflect the bright winter sky. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought of him that way. Who hasn’t? He’s America’s golden boy, the man of your dreams.

And Bucky… oh Bucky, your thoughts about him are simply unholy. The quiet, brooding partner to America’s sweetheart. As you’ve gotten to know Bucky, you’ve come to understand that there’s more to him than meets the eye, but you love the darkness that settles just below the surface. 

As if he can hear your thoughts, Bucky turns and glances back at you from the passenger seat. “How you doin’ back there, doll?” He asks, a soft smile on his lips.

“Oh, I’m fine, Sarge,” you reply, smiling back. He gives you a wink before turning back in his seat.

You’re not sure how you’ll survive three days in a cabin with the two of them; there are so many variables… so many different ways this could send you up shit’s creek without a paddle.

You’re not going to lie; the past two days have been… tough, to say the least. There have been so many innocent touches and sweet smiles that you can’t tell what’s real and what’s your fantasy anymore.

Tonight is the official gift exchange. You’re excited for the boys to open your gifts; you tried so hard to find the perfect items. After changing into a pair of flannel PJ pants, you make your way out into the cabin’s main room.

You each have your own rooms, but each night you’ve been desperate to sneak into Steve or Bucky’s room and just see what happens. You haven’t had enough courage to do it, and part of you had hoped that one of them would do the sneaking.

You push the thoughts from your mind as the three of you gather in front of the roaring fireplace. There’s a sizable pile of gifts scattered around, more than you’d expect for a group of three, but you certainly don’t mind.

Steve and Bucky both wear similar attire to you, tight short-sleeved t-shirts, Steve in white and Bucky in black, as well as matching flannel pants. 

The boys hand out the gifts, making three separate piles for each person. Butterflies flit in your belly as you run your eyes over their straining muscles. Their shirts are too small, and you can practically see everything. But you’re not complaining. No, not one bit.

“Okay, who’s starting?” Steve asks, sitting back on his heels.

“Youngest to oldest,” Bucky suggests, grinning. Steve rolls his eyes but nods, looking to you to pick your first gift.

Torn wrapping paper litters the floor, and Steve waves around the garbage bag again in an attempt to get you and Bucky to clean up after yourselves. The two of you just laugh and crumple up the paper into little balls, chucking them at Steve.

“You keep that up, and I’ll take away the rest of the presents,” Steve scolds, though his smile is big and bright, so you know he’s not upset.

There’s only one gift left for each of you, so once the little paper fight has ended and you all settle down, you begin to peel the paper off your gift.

Inside is a thin black box that you know for sure contains jewelry. Your heart thuds in your chest as you pop the box open. Inside is a simple silver necklace with a beautiful blue topaz stone shaped like a teardrop hanging from the chain. Even though Steve and Bucky have different shades of blue in their eyes, somehow, this stone perfectly encapsulates both.

Tears well in your eyes as Steve and Bucky both move to sit beside you. Bucky sweeps your hair to the side, freeing your neck for Steve to place the necklace. 

“What’re you crying for?” Steve asks, brushing a stray tear away from your cheek. You sniffle a little and laugh, wiping your face.

“It’s just the perfect gift,” you reply, looking between Bucky and Steve. The way they look at you is heated, possessive, almost, but you shake your head a little and tell yourself you imagine it. 

Bucky lets his fingers linger on your skin for just longer than he should before the two of them return to their seats on the floor. 

Steve opens his gift next; it’s from you. He tears open the present like a little kid, grinning from ear to ear. Inside, he finds a new set of paints that were a bitch to find. He’d been talking about trying out a new style, and this one brand of paints would be perfect, so of course, you had to find him.

He gapes at the paints for a moment before wrapping you in a giant hug. “You’re the best,” he whispers into your shoulder before releasing you. 

By the time you recover from the embrace, Bucky is already opening his last gift, also from you. It’s a first-edition print of The Hobbit. The way Bucky looks from you to the book speaks volumes, and you’re about to tear up again.

Tonight went so much better than you thought it would. You’re so happy to be here, with them, in this cabin, on a perfect winter night. The snow has been coming in pretty steadily, but you don’t care one bit.

The three of you clean up, casually talking about work and other things happening in your lives, and once the main room is tidied, you realize how late it is.

It’s almost midnight, and Steve never shuts up about his bedtime. Bucky gives him shit for it, teasing him for needing the beauty sleep, but a good sleep routine is necessary for your line of work, so you don’t mind.

But you don’t want tonight to end. Tomorrow, you’ll have to pack up and return to the real world. 

Fuck that. Fuck the real world.

“You headin’ to bed?” Bucky asks Steve as the two of them toss the trash bags by the back door. Instead of responding, Steve just stares at you, lips slightly parted. You cock an eyebrow at him, confused.

“It’s way past your bedtime, old man,” you tease, hoping to clear the air of the odd tension that’s fallen over the three of you.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Steve suggests, leaning against the wall. “My room has the biggest TV.” Bucky smiles, and you nod along. A movie sounds nice.

Never mind, a movie is torture. Bucky and Steve lay on either side of you, and you’re practically frozen where you sit. If you move even an inch, you’ll be pressed up against a muscular chest. As much as you’d like to be pressed against one of them, you’re not sure how they’d feel about it. Sure, it was Steve’s idea to watch the movie in his room, but that doesn’t mean he was consenting to you being all over him.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers trace little patterns on your arms, sending shivers through you, but you try to pretend like you don’t notice. You’re worried that if you acknowledge it, he’ll stop.

The credits roll on the cheesy holiday movie Steve had picked, and you slowly push yourself upright. You huff a bit of a breath, and both men look at you curiously.

“Well, it’s late,” you say, shifting yourself down the bed to avoid crawling over Steve or Bucky. “I should probably head to bed.” You nearly run into the dresser, feeling around for your slippers. 

“Awe, come on,” Bucky practically whines from the bed. “The night is still young.” Even though you can’t see him in the dark, you know he’s wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes your heart squeeze.

“I– I really can’t stay,” you say, fumbling over the words as you make your way toward the door. There’s movement behind you, sheets rustling, then suddenly, a presence right behind you. If you took a big breath, you’d be pressed against him.

“But baby, it’s cold outside,” Bucky tells you, placing his hands on your hips. His warmth envelops you from behind, begging you to sink into his embrace. You shiver.

“Tonight was,” your voice falters as you search for the words. “Amazing, but really, I should head to my room.”

“Baby,” Steve whispers, suddenly stepping in front of you, blocking your access to the door. “It’s cold outside.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the way he’s looking at you. You could drown in it. The heat of his gaze sends fire sweeping through you; it settles in your belly and makes you ache.

Bucky gently tugs you back into his chest, pressing you against him. Steve closes the distance, and you’re surrounded by them.

“You’re like ice, princess,” Bucky mumbles into your ear, nudging your neck with his nose. “Let us warm you up.”

Steve’s hands cup your jaw on either side, tilting your head up. His bright blue eyes shine despite the lack of light. “Is this okay for you?” He asks sweetly, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

“Yes,” you breathe, a weight seeming to lift from your shoulders. Steve leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sending electricity shooting down your spine. Steve kisses you like he’s tasting you, like you’re a porcelain doll he doesn’t want to damage. 

Bucky litters kisses along your neck, sucking and nipping at all the sensitive spots. He’s leaving marks, but you don’t mind. Your right hand reaches out for Steve while your left feels back for Bucky. Both men react to your touch, pressing even closer to you.

“You know how long we’ve wanted this?” Bucky whispers into your ear. Steve keeps kissing you, swallowing the little moan you release. “The day we saw you, we knew.”

Steve releases you from the kiss and uses his grip on your head to turn you toward Bucky. His eyes are darker than Steves’s, not only in color but in intention. It makes your legs feel like jelly.

“I want you too,” you reply, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. Bucky grins and leans down, capturing you in a heated kiss. Steve’s hands drift down your neck, feeling the little marks Bucky left before reaching the neckline of your shirt.

You pull away from Bucky only long enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dark room. Steve sucks in a breath at the sight of you in your bra, and you practically glow at his reaction. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve mumbles, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone, down your sternum, and between the valley of your breasts. He kneels in front of you as his fingers find the clasp of your bra at your back. He undoes it and carefully slides the garment off you, exposing you to his gaze.

“Stevie’s been craving you,” Bucky muses at your ear, hands sliding beneath your arms to grasp your tits. His vibranium fingers are cold in contrast to his flesh hand, and you moan at the feeling. “He’s so eager to please you.” His fingers tweak your nipples before heading south. His left hand finds Steve’s head, spearing his fingers through the blond’s hair. “Why don’t you tell our girl what you told me before this trip,” Bucky says to Steve. Your blood rushes in your ears. How is this real?

Steve gazes up at you with stars in his eyes. “I want to taste you,” the man practically moans. “I need it.” Bucky makes a sound, and Steve’s eyes shift to him. That must not’ve been the answer Bucky was looking for.

“Come on, Stevie, tell her exactly what you said.” You reach out and run your fingers along Steve’s jaw, silently telling him that you won’t judge him.

“I need you like I need to breathe, I need to feel you, need to taste you. I want to taste you on Bucky’s cock. I want to taste myself in your pussy.” You were already wet before, but now you’re soaked. The needy tone of Steve’s voice, the possessive grip Bucky has on both of you, it’s almost too much. It’s not quite enough.

Steve brings his lips to your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your nipples while his fingers play with the other. You lean back into Bucky’s muscular body, and he holds you upright, letting his hands roam your body.

You’ve never been with two men, but the thought had undoubtedly crossed your mind when fantasizing about these two. 

“You gonna let him taste you?” Bucky asks, teasing the waistband of your pants, slowly dipping his fingers beneath the elastic. “You gonna give Stevie what he needs?”

All you can do is nod and let Bucky and Steve tug your pants down. They help you step out of the pooling fabric before Steve is pressing his lips against your panties, breathing you in.

His fingers grip your hips and ass, digging into your flesh and muscles. He eats you out over your panties, driving you wild with the need to feel him directly. 

“Please, please,” you beg, arching your back to get your point across. Bucky chuckles and reaches down to help Steve pull your panties off. You catch the way Steve balls them up and tucks them into Bucky’s pocket, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Steve dives back in without another word, lapping up your arousal eagerly. He works your clit in perfect circles bringing you right to the edge. You’re so worked up that when Bucky bites your shoulder, it sends you spiraling. Your legs buckle beneath you, but they’re both there to catch you as you come down from the high.

“That was perfect, princess,” Bucky praises, kissing you sweetly. You smile into the kiss, feeling him lift you up and place you on the bed.

“Your turn,” you say, reaching out for both men. Bucky groans at your suggestion, palming his erection. He directs Steve to sit on the bed and gets everyone into position. You love how he commands the room; he’s in his element.

You slip off the bed and kneel between Steve’s legs while Bucky kneels on the bed, hips at Steve’s head. What you’d give to be a fly on the wall watching this…

The men both remove their pants and boxers, and you shamelessly ogle them. They’re both built like gods, sculpted from marble and fucking magic. Their cocks are just like the rest of them, and it dawns on you that you have no idea how they’ll fit.

Even so, you reach out and wrap your fingers around Steve’s hard length, bringing his attention down to you. As you begin to circle your tongue around his tip, he tangles his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, just moves with you. Bucky then guides his own cock to Steve’s mouth, and you notice that the more eagerly you please Steve, the harder he works Bucky.

You grin at the power you hold over both of them and work your mouth down Steve’s cock. You take him into your throat until you’re sputtering, and Steve moans around Bucky. 

The way Bucky guides Steve’s head has you moaning as you try to replicate the movement. Steve strains around Bucky’s cock but takes him so well. Bucky praises both of you, grunting about how good the two of you are, how perfect you are.

A moment later, Steve pulls you off his dick and tugs you onto the bed. Bucky is repositioning himself as well, and butterflies flit in your tummy.

“We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” Steve tells you, running his fingers down your back. “I don’t wanna push you or anything.” Bucky nods in agreement, vibranium hand cupping the back of your neck.

“This is all pretty new to you; we won’t be upset if you want to take things slower,” he adds. 

“What if I don’t wanna go slow,” you reply, sucking in a heaving breath. You want them so bad you’re practically vibrating with need. “What if I need to feel you?”

Steve whimpers at your side, and Bucky moans.

“Fuck, princess, that’s music to my fuckin’ ears.” Bucky kisses you, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers over you, caging you in. His right hand reaches between your legs and runs along your sensitive flesh. Steve does the same from the other side, two hands working you in tandem.

Their fingers open you up, stretching you in a way you’ve never experienced before. They work without needing to speak, a singular goal in mind.

“You’re doing so good,” Steve praises, running his free hand along Bucky’s back. “So good for us.”

Once Steve and Bucky are satisfied with their handiwork, Steve guides Bucky’s cock to your entrance. “You ready, baby?” Bucky asks, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Yes, please fuck me, Bucky,” you plead as he presses into you. Even though they prepped you, Bucky is still big, and you’ve never taken anything quite so large before. It feels so good as he thrusts deep and hard inside of you.

Your eyes roll back into your head while your hand seeks out Steve, needing the connection. Finding his cock, you wrap your fingers around him and pump at the same speed as Bucky. Steve hisses in a breath at the feeling and bucks into your hand.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, princess,” Bucky moans into your ear, hiking one of your legs onto his shoulder. “So tight for me.” Your mouth falls open, your lips forming an ‘O’ as the band in your belly tightens. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, getting closer and closer to snapping.

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky urges. “Come all over my cock. That’s it; you’ve got it.” You burst at the sound of his words, coating his cock with your orgasm. He keeps fucking you, making you ride the wave for what feels like an eternity.

He pulls out once you’ve caught your breath and tugs Steve down. Steve eagerly takes Bucky into his mouth and moans at the taste. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Steve sucking the cock that had just been buried inside you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You like what you see, princess?” Bucky asks, one of his fingers drifting to your clit, circling it slowly. “He can’t get enough.”

Bucky guides Steve off his dick, and the two men turn to face you. 

“I want both of you,” you whisper, barely able to muster up the courage to admit it. Bucky cocks a brow at you before turning to Steve.

“You hear that, Stevie?” Steve nods, seemingly in a trance. “She wants both of us.” You watch in amazement as Bucky positions the three of you in the way he wants, quickly figuring out where everyone needs to be to make your fantasy come to life.

Bucky then steps away, digs through the bedside table, finds what he needs, then returns. “Okay, Stevie, lay back and let our princess ride you.” Steve does what Bucky asks and helps you straddle his strong hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars. 

From behind you, you feel Bucky’s fingers, slick from what must be lube, slide against your ass. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access. 

“You feel so perfect squeezin’ me,” Steve moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your tits.

“Isn’t she tight, Stevie?” Bucky asks, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Steve just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Bucky slowly moves his finger.

One finger becomes two, and you ride Steve a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his dick, working the pleasure from you.

Bucky adds a third finger, and you feel like you’re going to explode, but a good explosion. You’ve never felt so full, and you can’t imagine how amazing it’ll feel when it’s his cock and not just his fingers.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you beg, leaning back against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, princess?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace. 

“Fuck yes, Bucky, I need you so bad.” Bucky pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. For us. Be a good girl and let me in.” Bucky keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Steve helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him.

Only a thin wall separates Bucky and Steve’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands. Bucky and Steve worship you; they chant your name like a prayer.

All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their supersoldier serum, they last so much longer than other men. They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Bucky leans over your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“Give her your cum, Stevie; she wants it so bad. Right, princess?” Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrap around your neck, and you come again just from that.

“Oh my god, Steve, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan, gripping Bucky’s arm.

Steve comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Bucky over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating. Bucky kisses you deeply before shifting to give Steve the same treatment. Steve carefully slides off the bed and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean up with.

He takes care of you sweetly, ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin. You clean him up, and together you care for Bucky.

Once you dispose of the washcloth, Bucky and Steve tug you down into bed between them. Your limbs tangle with theirs, and you melt into their embrace. 

“You were so perfect, baby,” Bucky whispers against your head, thumb rubbing circles into your arm. “You are so perfect.” Your heart tugs in your chest.

“I hope you know,” Steve interjects, clearing his throat. “We both have feelings for you, more than just for the physical stuff. If you feel the same way, we wanna make this work out in the real world. The three of us.” Your breath catches, and you feel like you’re dreaming. No way is he saying this.

“Really?” you ask, turning to see Bucky’s reaction.

“Really, princess. You’ve been ours since the day we saw you. We’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. We’ll take it slow, it’s not gonna be as easy as a ‘traditional’ relationship, but we’ll make it work. We want it to work for you.” Tears brim in your eyes and Steve kisses your cheek.

“Yes, yes, of course, I want this,” you reply, holding their hands. “Who gives a shit about easy? Nothing is ever easy. As long as we’re in it together, that’s all I care about.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he kisses you. When he breaks the kiss, he turns you to Steve, who presses his lips to you sweetly. It all feels so natural, so easy. 

Even though the winter wind whips at the windows, you’re comfy and warm in the embrace of your two supersoldiers. Nothing could be better than this right here. 

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[celtic-crossbow]

Whumpuary Day 27-28

Prompt: Stabbed (alt)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood; Injury

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

You had seen some great plans in your time after the apocalypse. Majestic strategies that led your group to victory and survival. 

And you had seen some terrible plans. Inefficient calculations that brought more wounds and heartaches for the lot of you. 

This? This was neither of those. 

This was a fuckery. A terrible horrible no good very bad fuckery of epic proportions. 

So as you wrestled a living man wearing the skin of the dead for control of your knife, you couldn’t help but wonder how many of you were going to pay for this monstrosity of fucked-upness. 

When you couldn’t seem to get the upper hand, you went for the lower blow, bringing your knee up into the man’s groin and rolling him off of you just in time for the incoming walkers to take over. “Fuck.” You breathed, struggling to your feet. You needed to find the others, to find Daryl. Wiping away the blood from your nose on the back of your hand, you made your way further up the hill. The walkers were occupied but they wouldn’t stay that way long. 

Daryl was fighting two whisperers, kicking one off balance to send them tumbling down past you and into the herd below. You picked up the pace, aiming to help so that the two of you could regroup with the rest of your party. 

It happened so quickly that you weren’t sure you had time to take a breath. The archer’s knife sank into the skull of the man he fought, not seeing yet another rounding the tree. 

“Daryl!”

He pulled his blade free, his arm still in motion but his midriff was unprotected. You could have sworn you felt the pain in your own stomach. You were running, wishing to hell you had your gun. Too far, I’m too far. 

His own knife had been dropped, both hands around the wrist of his attacker. If he held him there, the blade wouldn’t go any deeper. But the fatigue on his face was evident even from the distance that still separated you. 

Stopping, you took a breath and flipped your knife, calling upon every lesson Daryl had given you. If you missed— no, you wouldn’t miss. 

The weapon whipped through the air and met its mark, the whisperer dropping and pulling the knife with him. 

“Fuck!” It took much longer than you liked to finally reach him, his black shirt already saturated before you pushed your hands down on the wound. “I’ve got you. Keep your eyes on me.” Daryl didn’t respond, sweaty and panting, but watching you as you snatched the radio from his belt. “Carol? Aaron? Fucking anyone?!”

“Y/N!”

“Michonne! Thank go— Daryl’s down! The herd’s too close! I need help!”

“Where are you?”

“Fourth mile east from the rendezvous point. Please, Michonne!”

“We’re on our way.”

“Hear that? They’re coming. So don’t do something stupid like die, okay?” You peeled off the flannel over your tank top and pressed it against the wound, wincing at Daryl’s pained groan. 

“Nah…ya have… all the stupid. Ain’t none…left for me.” He coughed, but there was no blood. You refused to believe anything else other than taking it to mean there was no internal bleeding. 

“That’s right. So, you gotta stick around and make sure I don’t do anything stupid, okay?” He clenched his teeth and grabbed your hand over the flannel, the blood making his skin slip across yours. 

“‘M sure as…hell gonna try, sunshine.”

You laughed wetly, the taste of your tears salty on your tongue. “Have you met me? Not a damn thing sunny about me.” 

Daryl grunted and moaned but then settled again. “Shuddup. Eye’a…the beholder…an’ all that shit.” You leaned forward with another laugh, pressing your forehead against his. 

“Daryl Dixon, are you saying I’m pretty?” 

His hand shook when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, dampening it red. “Eh…you’re alright, I… I guess.” His eyes were closing even as you called his name. You could hear your friends raised voices and knew they’d be able to help. Saddiq was with them. He’d save Daryl. You had to keep him conscious. Biting your lip, you pressed hard against the wound until he arched with a shout. 

“Sorry.”

“What’s a guy…gotta do to…get a nap ‘round here?”

“How’re you feeling, Bowstrings?” You beamed at him from over the back of the couch. Daryl was benched for at least a couple of weeks— even if you both knew you’d be saving his ass in less than one. 

“Like I got stabbed in the gut.” He replied flatly, fingers tapping anxiously against his chest. 

“You could almost pass for a real person in a t-shirt and flannels.”

“S’ comfortable.” He grumbled. You rounded the couch and sat on the arm, just above his head. 

“Good. You deserve comfortable.” He tilted back his head to look up at you while you swept back his hair. “What?”

“You deserve comfortable too.” 

Why did he look so adorable when he blushed?

“Would you still think I’m pretty in flannels and a t-shirt?” You stood up to go grab his antibiotic and some water, almost missing his muttered reply. 

“Wear a garbage bag an’ I’d still think ya was pretty, sunshine.”

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