#blending humour
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joncronshawauthor · 9 months ago
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How Fantasy Writers Can Draw Inspiration from Red Dwarf
In the boundless realm of fantasy literature, where authors conjure tales from the depths of their imagination, inspiration can emerge from a myriad of sources, including the world of science fiction comedy. “Red Dwarf,” a beloved sci-fi sitcom known for its unique blend of humour, character-driven stories, and speculative science, offers a wealth of creative insights for fantasy authors. Let’s…
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koko-heads · 7 months ago
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homeinchaldea · 1 year ago
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VICTORY
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deepspaceclawstation · 1 year ago
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I have to visit the great uncle (grand uncle technically but english kinship terms are weird that way) who doesn't like me (and once tried to convince me (a 25 year old) that a high-pitched sound has a low frequency) today so wish me luck I guess
#Like. it's fine to be annoyed by me I'm very annoying I admit#I even understand dislike when it's based on characters or behaviours I actually have or exhibit#But like. I don't really get why he doesn't like me when he likes my parents so much#I try to match his energy and sense of humour#and not to toot my own horn but I am good to him and his family I think or at least I try#Like. he has worse...nieflings? great nieflings?#My family is the only one from our branch who visits and doesn't make a nuisance of ourselves#And like. It's still cool to like hate me or whatever based on vibes alone but keep that shit to yourself#At least pretend to be civil#Not that he's hostile or anything but he keeps asking me like. 10th grade physics questions (and being wrong about the answers)#Or ignoring my contributions to the conversation#Like. dude we have so many common interests. we are both engineers. we both learned to play keyboard (very badly). we both sew.#we are both interested in diy#At least pretend to get along like my grandma who hates me does (other side of the family)#Personal#Sorry I keep using this site like a diary but I also think it is kind of funny that people hate me#Like if you met me irl you'd not even notice me I'm really a blend into the background kind of guy#I don't understand how I could even inspire such a strong reaction as hate like a mild dislike is fine but hate??#Except my grandma though. she hates me because she hates my mom and thinks she is an evil mastermind. I hope I was kidding#Also she thinks I am not as good as her other grandson who is much more successful. okay that's true but not grounds for hate lol#I kind of know why they hate me. but I kind of want to still give them the benefit of the doubt because I'm an idiot at heart
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bighitfics · 7 months ago
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jungkook oneshots that I will keep re-reading till the end of time!
(a much needed recommendation) ִ ࣪𖤐
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The Broken Vow ୨ৎ by @lleldey
— major angst, teeny bit of fluff, yandere husband jungkook.
(this is an eight star, no doubt! i’ve read it nine times already)
When She Loved Me ✦ by @jungkookstatts
— angst, fluff, and more angst, triple the angst.
(reading this is like drinking poisoned honey, this has to be both my villain origin story & guilty pleasure fic)
Champange Confetti ִ ࣪𖤐 by @pennyellee
— dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s.
(gawd this was the perfect blend of everything and the accurate references of the 90s just made it more perfect than it already is)
I Love You Too ✧₊⁺ by @smileyoongle
— therapist!jk, found family, angst, healing, second chances.
(sceaming, blushing, giggling, sliding down the door, he’s so disgustingly sweet in this!) 😮‍💨🤌🏼
Unwaveringly Forever ⭑ by @loststarxox
— alcoholic jk, self destructive, healing/comfort, established relationship, found family <3 (i have a soft spot for this jungkook, this precious being must be protected at all cost! ps : he’s lowkey segci asf in this from the way he clings to her, to needing her by his side all the time even tho he’s drunk as hell *sighs* my dream man)
Slow And Steady ౨ৎ by @yoonia
— painter jungkook, infidelity, smut, angst.
(this women never misses with her 10/10 plotline, her ridiculous 100/10 writing skills & her ability to bring the scenes alive! mad talent)
Tempest ⭑.ᐟ by @kooktrash
— yandere boyfriend, romance, established relationship.
(obsessed is an understatement, she writes jk the best)
Fifth Wish ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ by @jiminrings
— bodyguard!au, fake dating, angst, fluff.
(this is girl breakfast, girl lunch and girl dinner! i can scream ab it all day!)
Kaiho 𓍯𓂃 by @99liners
— marriage au, age gap, controlling husband jk, trophy wife reader. (screaming, wailing, barking for toxic tsundere husband jk. i need therapy ya’ll)
What was I made for? ☽ by @spideyjimin
— strangers to lovers, soldier jungkook, angst, fluff.
(he’s so dreamy in this, oh how i pray to be loved like this)
Stars Behind Waves 𓇼 by @taegularities
— estranged best friends to lovers, fluff, smut.
(im wordless, this was too good to be true)
Rock God ⊹ ˖ by @venusjeon
— 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l.
(such a refreshing plotline, writing is top tier!)
Definition Of Love 𐙚 by @sparklingchim
— established relationship, fluff, smut.
(if there was one fic i could hug i’d hug this one)
Secret Crime ⋆⑅˚₊ by @kimnjss
— fwb (with feelings), smut, angst.
(the smut was so well executed, it got me all heated)
Night After Night ⊹₊ ⋆ by @brown-bi-beautiful
— fuckboy jungkook, exes to lovers, cute simp (red flag) jungkook.
(literally seven mv storyline executed and written in the best way possible i read it a countless time, tbh she did it even better!)
have a good read girlies <3
follow for more.
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rafecameronssl4t · 8 days ago
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Girls Just Wanna Have Fun || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
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Summary: Rafe getting a late night call from the boys saying his girl and Sarah are dancing on a table at a party and he comes and possessively brings you back home 😛
Warnings: nothing really
Word count: 1,144
MASTERLIST (rafe x thorton!reader au masterlist)
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The low buzz of Rafe’s phone broke through the quiet hum of the room. He grabbed it from the nightstand, glancing at the screen. Kelce. He sighed, already annoyed, before answering. “What?” His tone was sharp, almost a warning. On the other end of the line, Kelce hesitated. “Uh… I think you should come get Y/n.”
Rafe frowned, already feeling the stirrings of frustration. “Why?” “She’s… um…” Kelce trailed off, clearly searching for the right words. Rafe’s patience snapped. “Kelce, spit it out.” Kelce’s nervous laugh only made Rafe’s jaw tighten. “She’s drunk, man. Like, really drunk. And, uh… she’s on a table.”
“A table?” Rafe repeated, his tone flat. “Yeah, with Sarah. They’re, uh, dancing.” Kelce cleared his throat awkwardly. “Topper’s trying to get them down, but… well, it’s not going great.” For a second, Rafe didn’t respond, the disbelief sinking in. Then, he scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Wish I was,” Kelce said quickly, a hint of nervous humour in his tone. “Topper and Y/n are now just bickering. You might wanna hurry.” Rafe shook his head, the frustration bubbling up in his chest. He grabbed his keys from the counter, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Just don’t let her out of your sight, Kelce. You hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah. I got her,” Kelce assured, though his voice lacked the confidence Rafe wanted to hear. “Good,” Rafe muttered. “I’m on my way.” He ended the call without another word, shoving the phone into his pocket and striding out to his truck. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he fired up the engine, the deep growl filling the silence as he reversed out of the driveway.
~
Whatcha gon' do with all that junk. All that junk inside your trunk?I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk.
From outside the party, Rafe could already hear the heavy bass thumping through the house, the unmistakable beat of a Black Eyed Peas song rattling the windows. He pushed through the front door, the din of laughter and chatter blending with the music. His gaze sharpened as he weaved through the throng of partygoers, ignoring the greetings and drunken pats on the back.
Kelce and Topper came into view near the edge of the living room, standing together with bemused expressions, their attention fixed on something—or someone. “What the hell is going on?” Rafe muttered under his breath as he strode toward them. Kelce turned at his approach, an awkward grin tugging at his lips. “You made it.”
Rafe didn’t respond, his attention already shifting to where Kelce and Topper were staring. His jaw tightened when his eyes landed on you and Sarah, both barefoot, teetering on top of a table in the centre of the room. “Are you kidding me?” he muttered, running a hand down his face.
You were mid-spin, Sarah twirling you as you giggled uncontrollably. Your voice carried over the music as you belted out the lyrics, completely oblivious to the crowd forming around you. “I drive these brothers crazy, I do it on the daily,” you sang, your voice loud and carefree, earning cheers and laughter from the partygoers.
“They treat me really nicely, they buy me all these iceys!” you continued, tossing your head back as Sarah joined in, the two of you clumsily bumping hips in time with the music. Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, noticing how people—mostly guys—were watching, some with smirks, others with their phones out, filming the scene.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze flicked back to you, your skirt riding higher on your thighs with every exaggerated sway of your hips. “How long has this been going on?” Rafe demanded, his voice low but firm as he tucked his hands into his pockets, his irritation barely contained.
Kelce snorted, shooting Topper a glance before answering. “This is their second song.” Rafe arched a brow, his gaze momentarily shifting back to your exposed legs before snapping to Kelce. “What was the first?” “‘Pony,’” Kelce deadpanned, his tone dripping with disbelief. Rafe let out a sharp scoff, shaking his head as his lips twisted into a grimace. “Of course it was.”
Turning back to the scene, Rafe’s irritation simmered into something darker, more possessive. The sight of you, carefree and oblivious, with all those eyes on you—it didn’t matter if it was harmless fun. You were his, and he wasn’t about to let anyone forget it—least of all you.
“All right, that’s enough,” he said, his voice cutting through the music as he strode toward the table. His presence alone made heads turn, but Rafe didn’t care. His focus was solely on you. You looked down at him with a drunken smile, your face flushed and glowing under the lights.
“Rafey!” you exclaimed, your voice sing-song and laced with giggles. “Come dance with me!” Rafe’s jaw tightened as he rolled his eyes. “Not today, Princess,” he replied, his tone firm. He extended a hand toward you. “Get down. Now.” Your face fell into a pout, your lips pressing together as you leaned slightly closer to him.
“But I’m having soooo much fun!” you whined, swaying on unsteady feet. Before you could argue further, a loud squeal escaped your lips as Rafe’s strong arm wrapped firmly around your hips. With little effort, he hoisted you up and threw you over his shoulder.
“Rafe!” you shrieked, your fists lightly thumping against his back as laughter bubbled out of you. “Put me down!”Unbothered by your protests—or the amused whistles and hollers from the crowd—Rafe ignored you entirely, his steps deliberate as he walked out of the house.
“Rafe Cameron!” you yelled, your voice a mix of indignation and drunken giggles. “You’re ruining my fun!” “And you’re ruining my night,” he shot back, his tone clipped but not without an edge of amusement as he tightened his grip on your legs to keep you steady.
The cool night air hit you both as he pushed through the door, leaving the music and chaos behind. Rafe didn’t stop until he reached his truck, his irritation still simmering as he opened the passenger door and carefully set you down on the seat.
Your arms crossed over your chest, your lips still in a dramatic pout as you looked up at him. “You’re such a buzzkill,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite. “And you’re a handful,” Rafe retorted, leaning down slightly so his face was level with yours.
His eyes softened briefly, though his tone remained firm. “But you’re my handful. Now sit still before you hurt yourself.” Your pout deepened, but Rafe had already moved to the driver’s side, his grip on the situation as firm as ever.
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wordspill · 1 year ago
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went to the cinema and saw *spiderman: across the spiderverse* today for the third time. this film is just so much. it's impressed me every time i've seen it. like, i don't think anything this groundbreaking has happened in animation since disney's fantasia in 1940.
this animated film has better acting than any number of live-action films i can think of, and i am not just talking superhero films here. the animation is unbelieveably good, nuanced, mind-blowing, and deeply sympathetic. i just... i think everyone should see this film on the big screen. i think schools should do screenings for their students. i think libraries should screen it for the public.
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endursent · 2 months ago
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- My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , angst if you squint(?) , gn!reader 】
【 characters; aventurine , blade , dr. ratio , jiaoqiu , jing yuan , moze , sunday 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; might make more parts, who knows. also two one-shots/fics between gss chapters? in this writing economy? 】
【 word count; 3.303 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi ver | gi reader ver 】
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Aventurine;
You thought he’d be more agitated than this—usually Aventurine doesn’t stay still for long periods of time, always out and about, as if resting for too long or standing still raises the hairs on his neck as something rapidly approaches from behind him, unseen to anyone else.
  And yet now… he sleeps curled on the sofa in his apartment, you continue to scratch your head over the situation and how to fix it—you tried to ask Dr. Ratio, who you’ve only met once by chance with Aventurine, but he seemed knowledgeable, and you’ve seen some of his theses cited in arguments online…
  But all he replied with to your very concerned and urgent text message from Aventurine’s phone was; “lol”
  So you’re officially on your own, it’s bad enough that Ratio has rejected your plea for help and now knows about this, if it gets out to Aventurine’s coworkers…
  You sigh and plop yourself down on the sofa next to his curled form, yellow-orange fur swaying at your movements as he doesn’t even look up. For a moment, you’re a bit concerned… hopefully he’s still breathing.
  Reaching a hand out, one finger pointed straighter than others, Aventurine suddenly looks up—and closes his jaw around your finger. It’s a gentle hold, not exactly a bite despite the way it looks and the prick of his teeth. You blink at him, he slow blinks at you. “You’re so sleepy,” you note. Aventurine just licks your finger, letting go of it—though it was barely a hold.
  After having gotten what seemed to be a long-awaited proper rest over the span of two days, Aventurine seems to spring to life, not in the way he’s zooming all over the oversized apartment or knocking things over, he just seems very excited to see you when you come home from work—your partner might have turned into a cat for real, but your superior will NOT believe you—he sits on your thighs whether you’re on the couch, by the dinner table, kneeling to fix something under a shelf, anything. 
  He’s usually quite independent, so this somewhat clingy behaviour is surprising, but you don’t entirely mind, his fur is very soft.
  Aventurine didn’t even make a single sound when you bathed him after accidentally spilling some bolognese sauce on his back—he was wandering around your feet and nearly tripped you when you turned around. 
  Perhaps this temporary (hopefully) form has made him more confident in seeking the closeness to you he craves, the need for connection that he’s too reluctant to engage in most times despite being together for so long. 
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Blade;
You squint your eyes open in the darkness of the night, why is it so hard to breathe suddenly? It woke you up, as if there was something hot and heavy on your chest.
  And there is, when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see large flame-coloured eyes staring at you. Blade’s pitch black fur blends into the darkness of the night, but his eyes do not—if you didn’t know better you’d think there were two eyes floating in front of your face, but the body attached to them is very much standing on your chest.
  “... what?” you mumble sleepily, why is he staring at you like that? He doesn’t do this normally… you think. Maybe… does he?
  No response—you’re not sure what to expect, it’s not like he can talk in this form. 
  He does this every night, to a point you’ve started laying on your side so he at least has to stand on the bed. One night, you even reach out and grab him, pulling him into your arms so he’s unable to stand and stare like that. You come out with scratched arms, but it was worth the somewhat peaceful sleep when he finally settles. 
  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s always been in the corner of your eyes, sometimes waiting for you to finish what you’re doing, sometimes just standing there—not necessarily even looking at you or engaging with you in any way. He just likes to stand in the same room. 
  Except now he’s perched on shelves, under sofas or chairs, looming behind a corner so you almost step on him.
  Over time, he becomes a bit restless, but other than hiding away in warm, dark spots… but as you settle into bed, he’s always ready and hops onto your stomach as soon as your back hits the mattress. 
  The other Stellaron Hunters’ reactions range from curious concern to finding it hilarious. Firefly mentioned they have two cat members now, Blade wasn’t very happy about it… the day after she offhandedly mentioned that she could barely sleep and felt like someone was watching her the entire time. You decided not to mention his habit. 
  Blade doesn’t quite follow you at your heel the entire time… but he does always seem to be in the same general area, as he always has. It’s a bit of a relief, you thought you might get lonely without his constant presence. 
  He sometimes doesn’t run off when you pet him. Sometimes. 
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Dr. Ratio;
Ratio is appalled by this development, he hates it. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he can’t communicate properly, and you won’t stop pinching his ears. You’re lucky he doesn’t bite you. 
  He, in his infinite wisdom, developed a way for him to communicate with you. He may be a cat now, but his work doesn’t have space to halt for even a day! And so it’s up to you to continue it under his guidance, because he will not be seen like this by his assistants. 
  His way is quite funny, for complex explanations or lengthy dialogue, he will slap his paws on a holo-keyboard to type it out, but otherwise he presses buttons laid out on one of his workbenches for general commands. “Write”, “Open drawer”, “Fetch tool” (he then vaguely gestures which one), and even “Eat” and “Nap”.
  You asked him if he wanted to add a voice-over to the buttons so you wouldn’t just have to listen to a buzzer made to catch your attention, but he just stared at you blankly.
  You pinch and rub his ears, despite protests.
  To ensure subtlety, he demands you carry him in your bag in and out of the lab and past the reception… and you can’t in good faith deny that it’s adorable to see his head poke out of your bag and squint around to make sure the coast is clear once you’re outside. 
  Ratio had never imagined to hear as absurd of a suggestion as when you asked him if you should ask any of his Intelligentsia Guild colleagues about this, surely they can put their brains together and come up with a solution? 
  Absolutely not, he says, by knocking an empty coffee paper cup over. 
  You caught him staring longingly at his own bathtub and asked if he wanted to take a dip, you can wash him. The idea sounded good… until he stuck his purple paw into the soapy water and felt the spine-shattering feeling of his fur sticking together and immediately wriggled so aggressively out of your grip—startling you of course—that you both went tumbling into the water.
  He sat on his bed, towel under his body and over his back with a traumatised expression on his face for about forty eight minutes straight. Not even an offering of some nice cheese from the fridge brought him out of it. 
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Jiaoqiu;
Different from the rest of the cast, Jiaoqiu has found himself in the form of an extremely furry fox, matched exactly to the colour of his hair. He’s so soft that you can’t help but run your fingers through it, messing up the direction of the coat and requiring Jiaoqiu to stand up and shake himself a few times to right it out. It comes to a point he will nip at your fingers if your hand comes too close.
  One afternoon, you’re wondering where he went off to—he has a chronic tendency to wander off, even in regular foxian form—you go into the pantry to see his tail swaying excitedly, half of his body disappearing into a woven bag of peanuts. Startled for a moment that he might not be able to digest that—you’ve never had to take care of an actual fox before—you hurry towards him and pull him out, holding Jiaoqiu up.
  He screams in such a disturbingly human way you almost drop him. Whether the scream was of surprise or protest is hard to tell.
  You stand in front of him, sat on the divan in your home and try to look stern… but the smile and closed eyes he makes even in this form is so eerily similar to how he normally would with his usual expression that it almost freaks you out. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s basically just a furry version of himself… but it’s too close! 
  And he got away with it too, damn him. 
  Despite the pale pink fur, the tip of his tail and ears, his legs and paws are all dark, and you can’t help but hold them, stroke through the fur through the change of colour and Jiaoqiu—though normally not liking his tail or ears to be touched, in this form he seems to accept it… he can’t lie to you with turning his snout up, you see his tail sway when your hand comes close, despite how he would nip at them before—you’ve cracked the code, smooth the fur back down after ruffling it, and it’s acceptable.
  Don’t think for a second that you’re safe to indulge in any unhealthy habits or dumb decisions even though his “warning smile” is absent, he will bite your pants and pull so hard they might rip. You were about to be roped into some nonsense by Feixiao, seeing the perfect opportunity to borrow you for some “racing”, when Jiaoqiu comes running at breakneck speed, bites your pants, and effectively drags you away.
  Feixiao just watches with a grin. Good luck next time.
  He sulks a bit about not being able to do his job for such an extended period of time, he has a good sense of responsibility and doesn't like to sway from his sworn duties too much.
  Also, he can tell by the smell alone that the food you make for yourself in the absence of his skilled work is severely lacking in critical ingredients, and is also plated wrong. But that’s more of a subjective nitpick—maybe he’s just getting restless.
  He decides to hide one of your shoes and watch in amusement as you search high and low through the house the next morning. Sitting on the carpet with a foxy smile. 
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Jing Yuan;
Jing Yuan is delighted. He plops himself down on you no matter what you’re doing, if there is no surface to curl up, he will lie down by your feet, or anywhere he can be touching you with at least a part of his body. 
  Raking your hand through his thick fur, you pull your hand back and it’s covered in white hairs, he sheds more than Mimi.
  You vehemently vetoed his decision to rename Mimi to Wave-Treading Snow Lion when it began growing and showing signs of not being a grimalkin like he suspected it was.
  Speaking of Mimi, you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight and see the two of them splayed out by the massive windows, artificial sunlight bathing them in warmth as Mimi lies on the floor belly up… and Jing Yuan lies on Mimi’s belly, his own facing up towards the sun. You don’t dare disturb them—mostly because you worry that Mimi will roll over and crush poor Jing Yuan under it. 
  So you set the documents on his desk slowly and sneak back out, the Cloud Knights always present in the room stand still and try not to do more than whisper between themselves.
  If you thought Jing Yuan was sleepy before, you were in for a surprise. As soon as his hands turned to paws, he was lounging around as lazily as he could get away with, which was infinite in this form—perhaps this was the taste of retirement he needed, and it might convince him to go through with it… you hope. For his sake. 
  Unfortunately, your partner is cursed with a perpetual disturbance of his naps, and a problem comes up in regards to an illegal trade of magically-charged artefacts—one of which having the potential to explode if handled wrong, which could hurt innocents during the exchange. He circles the Seat of Divine Foresight like he would normally in thought… except instead of his boots touching the ground in a rhythmic thump, it’s small paws padding on the floor.
  It’s cute—but then again, he’s always cute.
  Thankfully the problem is resolved due to the Cloud Knights having previously acquired knowledge of suspicious movements over the last weeks and are able to intercept the exchange.
  As a reward for his hard work, you make a big bowl of juicy fruits for him to dive into—though Mimi’s snout got in before him, and stole about half of it… you snooze you lose, dozing general. 
  Of course, he didn’t let you off that easy, cuddles were demanded with headbutts and loud meows of protest if you turned to do anything else, so you were stuck with two cats hogging your attention for the rest of the night, good thing you have two hands to scratch behind both of their ears at the same time.
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Moze;
You thought for a moment he didn’t actually retain his senses, and had ran off somewhere, you dragged Feixiao with you to search the entirety of the Xianzhou Yaoqing… only to return home several hours later, exhausted and disappointed, to see Moze sitting on the kitchen counter with a fish in his mouth, tail swaying contently as he ate it off the bones.
  He would just randomly wander off and return at odd times, once you saw some blood on his paw and worried he had hurt himself, but no matter how you looked or poked and prodded, there was no wound. It must have been the capture of another fish or another… because, surely, Feixiao doesn’t have him doing work like this?
  You suppose it’s quite a good cover… no one would suspect a cat…?
  After locking him in your room for the workday to ensure he doesn’t go off somewhere, as you had asked an elder of the Alchemy Commission to come over and have a look at him, you came back with the old man to find the room empty.
  Given cat form, Moze has become the perfect escape artist—not that there’s much anyone can do to hold him down in his normal form. 
  Try as you might, it becomes somewhat of a game of you trying to keep him in one single place, and him disappearing like a leaf on the wind, only to show up later with a treat… usually for himself, but once he brought you a pouch of sesame balls. You hope he paid for it somehow, but you don’t hold your breath either.
  He sleeps exclusively by your feet, circles a few times and wriggles into a comfortable position against either leg that’s closer. You tried to get him to sleep closer to your torso or on your inviting arm, but he always stood up and returned to the spot by your legs after a few minutes. 
  One time, you were stroking his tail absentmindedly and accidentally pinched it only slightly—yet he still jumped into the air like you had just stepped on it with a loud yeowl, making you yourself jump as he suddenly sped off across the room and almost slammed himself into the door leading to the study.
  You decided not to play with his tail after that, he even left scratches on the floor with his hurried scuttling across the room. 
  You spotted Jiaoqiu trying to feed him some of the ‘concoction’ he was making, which Moze sniffed curiously at—but you’re fairly certain there are not many things in that broth that will settle well—or at all—in his kitty stomach, and thus you swoop in and feign extreme interest in Jiaoqiu’s dish. Of course, the foxian sees through you easily and smiles widely. “Ah, why don’t you try it then?”
  You got yourself into this position, and so, you resign yourself to burnt taste buds for the next few hours. It’s delicious as always, but your poor mouth… Moze rubs his furry head against your legs in comfort. 
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Sunday;
He couldn’t believe it. Sunday stared at himself in the reflecting mirror of the Astral Express’ windows for about ten whole minutes after being brought back to it in the state he was in. His ears flatten to his head and he glares at anyone that tries to approach, he doesn’t want to interact with anyone like this!
  He flees to his room and stays under the bed for several hours before you manage to lure him out with some delicious smelling grilled fish. Sunday reluctantly pokes his head out to grab it—which is when you grab him. 
  He flails and meows, struggling and squirming as you pick him up and stand… only to coo at him and rub his cheeks with your thumbs, musing how cute he is.
  Cute?! This is a horror scenario! 
  Despite his displeased meowing and nibbling on your fingers when you try to pet him, Sunday eventually gives up when he learns that you just find his struggling adorable. Suddenly your staring when he gets annoyed with small things start to make sense. Like when he hit his head on the ridge of a table after bending under it to fetch a pen he dropped, and the brief surge of frustration and annoyance he felt—only for you to swoop in to rub his head and see if it hurt. 
  He sulks the entire time, he doesn’t like it one bit. 
  March asks him if she can put him in outfits like she does with Pom-Pom, and he strategically avoids her for several days. Not a chance. 
  Thankfully, despite you ‘tormenting’ him on the first day, Sunday does seek comfort in you… you’re warm, and somehow you know exactly where to scratch behind his ears and under his chin where he can’t quite reach well enough. 
  You almost pull him in and rub your face into his furry torso when Sunday kneads at your shirt when you lay down to sleep, but decide that watching him is much cuter. You get such cuteness aggression when he does the smallest things. He purrs when you massage his paws or draw your fingers all the way down his back—and get a fistful of hair while you’re at it—and eventually he starts to do it at the smallest gestures… Pom-Pom once brought up concerns to Himeko that they thought that the train might have a problem, some kind of motor malfunction.
  Turns out Sunday was napping in the warm engine room and purring so loudly that when Pom-Pom leaned close to his hiding spot, they thought it was the engine. 
  He doesn’t let anyone pet him properly except you, not because he doesn’t trust the rest of the Express members—trust is a strong word in any case—but because when he closes his eyes in comfort, he wants to open them again and see you stroking through his fur. Nothing personal, though March does take it a bit personally.
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deeplyshalllow · 1 month ago
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An in depth study of Fiyero and Elphaba's first meeting in the Wicked movie
So I've wanted to do an analysis of this scene from the moment I saw it. It's such a great addition to canon and gives such a fascinating insight into both of their personalities and the facades they put on to others. It also gives hints of the fact that both of them are pretty good at breaking down each other's walls.
From the top:
“Woah, Woah there, woah.”
“I did not see her.”
“Yeah, neither did I.”
“You might want to, um”
“Ok.”
“You know,”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you there, you must have...”
The first impression we get of Fiyero is that he’s kind. Obviously careless enough to hit a girl in the dark, but he immediately slows down and, even before Feldspar has told him to apologise, he’s got down and is about to make his way over.
It’s also important to note we that seeing him talk to a Horse as a friend, when just the scene prior we have seen that a large amount of the population don’t want Animals to talk at all. In fact, this is the only other human we see friends with an Animal in the entire movie, and it sets up immediately the fact that he will agree with Elphaba on her cause.
“...blended with the foliage.”
Here is his first reaction to Elphaba’s greenness. It is the rudest thing that Fiyero says to her all scene, and something that immediately puts Elphaba on the defensive, having heard shit like this all her life, but it’s also very on par with Fiyero and his constant habit of saying dumb shit whenever Elphaba is around (“yeah, or maybe it scratched me or something,” and “well, actually it was, but it wasn’t” come to mind), he’s surprised and he reacts with humour (something we see he does a lot).
It’s interesting to contrast this to his musical comment, “Well maybe the driver saw green and thought it meant go,” which is a lot more pointed and insulting, blaming the situation on her (though to be fair she does wake him up and attack him for what his carriage driver did), Fiyero in the movie reacts dumbly but not maliciously.
“Is this how you go through life? Just running amuck and trampling anyone in your path?”
Elphaba is immediately on the defensive. She’s already stressed about Doctor Dillamond, pissed off about being knocked over and now, as usual, she has met a new person who is insulting her skin tone. So she does what she does best, she puts her walls up and hides behind them.
“No.”
*Feldspar laughs*
Fiyero is shocked by this attack. He’s naturally charming, to the point where he relies on his charm to get him out of situations. So the fact it doesn’t work stuns him a little. This is why Feldspar laughs, because he knows Fiyero and how he normally acts, and it is funny to see him not immediately manage the situation.
“No, sometimes I’m asleep.” *looks at her flirtily*
Fiyero recovers, his walls are back up. He’s over the shock of seeing someone green and how she’s reacted to him, so he goes back to charm by flirting with her. Notice how he is using self derogatory humour, it’s easy charm that he knows how to use – he’s trying to ease the situation by insulting himself and making her laugh. It’s also another way of cultivating his image, Fiyero very deliberately portrays himself as stupid, flirty and lazy (he sings an entire song about it!) and here he is playing it up.
Also, I’m pretty sure this is a reference to their meeting in the musical (where he is actually asleep), which is cute.
*Awkward pause*, “Yeah, alright, alright, here we go. No, I’m not seasick.”
Elphaba, who is not at all used to people flirting with her, but is used to people asking questions and insulting her skin tone – has picked up none of the playful implications and only that he is stupid and lazy, and therefore starts the rant that she’s said 100 times before.
“Neither am I.”
“No. I did not eat grass as a child.”
“Oh you didn’t? I did!”
But Fiyero starts replying! Again, it’s all charm and self derogatory humour, but he’s sensed the unease, he did not come to insult or attack her, and he’s trying to lighten the situation with his usual techniques he uses on everyone – but they are not working.
“And yes, I have always been green.”
“And the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?”
And here we see Fiyero let down his shield a little, and let on that he’s less dumb than he’s acting. Fiyero is remarkably good at understanding people, it’s how he manages to maintain his facade in the first place – and it’s how he ends up being an effective double agent through most of act 2. Fiyero immediately realises that Elphaba is putting on an act too, that she’s not just attacking him because she’s annoyed at him but that there’s something more going on there.
I love it. I love it so much. It’s such a good addition to the musical canon, because all the traits for Fiyero to be like this are already there, and it adds an extra bit of depth to our understanding of why he’s fascinated with Elphaba – because he knows that she’s another person hiding her true self from the world. It’s such a good link to the Lion Cub scene later where Elphaba pretty much calls him out on the same thing.
*Elphaba stares*
*Fiyero tries a smoulder*
“Hm.”
There is a second here where Elphaba realises that she’s been called out. That she’s attacked him when he wasn’t being malicious and it does cause her to retreat slightly.
Fiyero, now in safer territory, puts his walls back up and goes back to flirting. Elphaba, again not used to this at all, doesn’t really understand this and is still in a bad mood about the Animals, so breaks the moment.
*Feldspar laughs, Fiyero tries to shh him but laughs too.*
*Elphaba notices and stalks off.*
So this is interesting. From context clues, what Feldspar is laughing at earlier and Fiyero’s comment later, it appears he’s laughing at Fiyero, that his easy charm hasn’t worked and he’s found himself on the back foot. Fiyero, bewildered, but still playing up his persona, laughs too. Elphaba sees this and, obviously, immediately takes this as them laughing at her greenness, and therefore any goodwill from what he’s said is gone, and she stalks off.
“I’m off for some more trampling, may we offer you a ride?”
Fiyero, bless him, tries again. He’s seen he’s offended her, though probably hasn’t quite connected exactly why, and tries to make right. So he goes in with more self derogatory humour as well as a genuinely kind offer – it probably isn’t safe for her to walk back in the dark – but the moment has been lost.
“No thanks. Get stuffed.”
Elphaba’s walls are back up again. She might regret the “stuffed” comment by the end of act 2 though...
“Wow, Feldspar, we have just been spurned by a girl.”
“Indeed.”
“Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Fiyero ends the scene baffled, unsettled, but interested. He plays it off as if he’s normal and also reassembles his walls and defensiveness, again playing into the lazy playboy persona he puts on, ready for his next scene with Galinda.
Analysis of Fiyeraba interactions in the Dancing Through Life/Ozdust Scene
Analysis of Fiyeraba interactions in the Lion Cub Scene in the movie
An In Depth Study of Elphaba and Fiyero in the Train Station Scene
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lizfielding99 · 2 years ago
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Writing Craft
I’ve been adding On Writing pages to my blog so that new writers, any writers, can read what I’ve had to say about writing over the years. Most of it is instilled in my Little Book of Writing Romance, but the latest, Blending Humour with Emotion isn’t there. The links are at the top in the menu. I hope you find them useful.
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tarotofhope · 3 months ago
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PAC: Romantic Messages from your Lover ♡♡
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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៶Pile 1៸
You’re Whiskey in a Teacup.
“You want me?” I giggled at his bewildered expression. - “That’s what I’m saying”. He paused a moment. - “How - but what did I do?” - “I don’t know....I just think we’d be a good US”. He smiled slowly. “We’d be a wonderful us”.
“Forgive me for the things I did but mostly for the things I did not”.
“In the future...if by some miracle you ever find yourself in a position to love again- fall in love with me”.
I’m okay with your history. It made you who you are. And I happen to be in love with who you are.
Moreover, perhaps it isn’t love when I say you are what I love the most - You are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love.
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Your lover thinks that you're unattainable or very far from their reach. They think it is a tough connection which will require a lot of efforts and they do not want to lose you. You scare them. They also think that if you don't like the way they approach you, you'll think they're a creep. So, they keep their distance and stare from far away. If you're already in a relationship with this person, this could've happened in the beginning. They think you're a nice blend of modern and traditional. There is something that you keep hidden but when they get to know it, they will be amazed by you and your abilities. They want you to recognise them and love them and feel as much as they feel for you, listen to their unspoken words. They love you for all that you are and all that you've been.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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៶Pile 2៸
“Missing you comes in waves. Tonight I’m drowning”.
“Chances are, I’ll never get a moment like this again, so here’s everything I ever wanted to tell you. No one has ever gotten me like you; I’ve never found anyone who makes me laugh like you. You’re the one person who I can honestly see myself happy with; the definition of love to me is you”.
And one day, She took off her specs. Her eyes got blurred and mine never felt so focused.
God...You’re actually crazy. I love it.
“The thing is, jumping off cliffs is kinda my thing. That’s the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.”
That is the problem. If she wanted to dance, I would let her wreck the furniture. If she wanted to cook, I would let her burn down the house and if she wanted to scream, I would let her deafen me. I’ve never loved anyone enough to let them destroy me but God, she could take me by the throat and my eyes would sparkle at the mere inches between us.
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They think you're smart, cool and confident. You make them laugh, you might have a great sense of humour. They also think that you carry yourself very well and you're an all-rounder. You might be creative and good at different kinds of indoor and outdoor activities. You both could be in a long distance relationship or you guys don't get to hang out much because of work or any other reason. You might have a good physique and they really like it. You might also be good at cooking or dancing(your body could either be very stiff or very flexible). Again, like pile 1, this person expresses very less than how they actually feel. They might be a listener and you might be talkative. They love late night deep conversations with you.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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៶Pile 3៸
How beautiful to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything, but to be okay. - Khalil Gibran
“You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known and even that is an understatement”. - F. Scott Fitzgerald
I like to think of your silence as the love letters you will not write me.
Off topic but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
If tomorrow starts without me, I hope it starts with you. You see, there is a little of us in ourselves, and more of me in you. So if tomorrow starts without me, I’m not dead. I’m just seeing life differently - through you. - Temitaya_zeblon
Anyone who cares about you has to realize that you need a little looking after, nothing else really matters.
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I sense a lot of grief in this pile and also a lot of selflessness. They are your well wisher and they think so highly of you. They wish to see you having great achievements and happiness. They are your biggest cheerleader. They think it's so easy to love and understand you, you're just so simple, so self-satisfied. They love your silence and shyness. You might be a hopeless romantic but you don't express much through words. This person also wants to let you know that they've got your back and they wish the world for you. They might have already made up scenarios in their head, as to what may or may not come ahead in the future, but if something bad happens, they want you to carry on positively and happily. There might be someone here who lost their partner, this person wants to see the world through your eyes, so they want you to put your chin up and smile.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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៶Pile 4៸
I will choose you. Even on the days we don’t understand each other.
He is even better than books. -Fiction has nothing on you.
I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.
You’re so special. i hope you know that. Like the universe took it’s time with you.
“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first” Bullsh#t. I have never loved myself. But you...Oh God, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like”.
“What’s special about her?”.....“Nothing is special without her”.
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You must be someone really special to this person. Your guys' relationship is a roller-coaster ride and you guys never fail to communicate on matters, so it's like, you always come up with a solution together, to somehow figure things out between you rather than going for comfort elsewhere. I'm getting Justin Bieber ft. Big Sean's As Long As You Love Me, the lines where the rap part says
'You're the one that I argue with, feel like I need a new girl to be bothered with, but the grass ain't always greener on the other side, it's greener where you water it, so I know, we got issues baby, true true true but I rather work on this with you than to go ahead and start with someone new.'
You guys can't live without each other, you both think that only the other person can handle you and nobody else. You just know each other so well. You guys' love trope might be friends to lovers.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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៶Pile 5៸
I will not have you without the darkness that hides within you. I will not let you have me without the madness that makes me. If our demons cannot dance, neither can we. -Nikita Gill
“You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known and even that is an understatement”. - F. Scott Fitzgerald
I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.
I have two sides: Clown(Intentional) and Clown(Unintentional).
“I’m tough,” I whisper. He nods. “I know you are.”....“I can take care of myself.”....“You have,” he says. “ You still do. You always will. I’ve just joined in, too. Now we take care of each other.”
“I don’t want you to fall in love with me, because we fall by accident. I want you to walk towards me, and then sprint towards me, all on purpose, I wanted you to love me on purpose.”
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You guys are very different from each other. One is quiet or shy while the other one is full of humor and confidence. You guys just click. Opposites attract. One completes the other. You guys have so much respect for each other. This might be a love at first sight situation for a few of you while for the others of you, you got along well really quickly with each other. The one who is shy or quiet could be the unintentionally funny one(especially when they open up) while the other one is effortlessly funny and is a pro at it. There's a lot of light-hearted energy in this pile. You both are mature but in your own ways. You might think you don't need anyone but you know that your heart needs this person. You might have been through a lot of struggles and you think you'll always be okay being alone, but no, it's not going to feel right everytime. You've always craved this kind of company, deep in your heart. So, when this person comes along, keep them.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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gyuuberryy · 4 months ago
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from foe to forever
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pairing: prince!jake x pirate!reader, ft jungwon
synopsis: when prince jake’s wild behaviour leads to his capture by you, a daring pirate, you think it's just another ransom job. but as jake discovers the excitement of life at sea, your initial plans start to unravel. amidst adventure and unexpected feelings, both of you must navigate a complex web of desires and duties, ultimately facing a choice that could transform your lives forever.
genre: enemies to lovers, adventure, humour??
warnings: suggestive content!! kissing, drinking, bratty!jake, reader is mean at first(she's a pirate so duh) but character development trust! , kidnapping, pirate behaviour, constant mentions of being thrown overboard, looting, a bad storm, angst
note: i went overboard with the writing because i just love this plot so much! and my love for strong female leads also fuelled this hehe. enjoyy~
word count: 22.2k(sorry!)
royally yours masterlist | prev:jay | next:sunghoon
if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
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the scent of saltwater and the faint hum of night creatures drift through the open windows of the castle’s grand hall, mingling with the rich perfume of flowers and candle wax. but despite the setting’s elegance, the tension in the air is palpable.
“you will marry her, jake,” the king says, his voice a low, commanding rumble that reverberates through the vast chamber. “the alliance with her kingdom will secure our borders and ensure peace. this is not up for debate.”
jake’s heart pounds in his chest, anger and frustration boiling over. “it’s always about the kingdom, isn’t it?” he snaps, his voice cracking under the strain of suppressed emotion. “what about what i want? have you ever thought about that?”
the king’s eyes harden, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “what you want is irrelevant. you are a prince. you have duties, responsibilities—”
“duties?” jake interrupts, his voice rising. “you mean being a pawn in your political games? i’m a person, not a piece on a chessboard!”
“enough!” the king’s shout echoes off the stone walls, silencing the room. the courtiers and advisors standing along the edges glance away, uncomfortable witnesses to the familial strife. “you will do as you are told, or you will be stripped of your title. is that what you want?”
jake’s breath hitches, the threat striking deep. but instead of backing down, it fuels his rage. he turns sharply, storming out of the hall without another word, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.
he needs to get out. away from the suffocating expectations, away from the life that feels like a gilded cage closing in around him. without a second thought, he heads for the stables, saddles his horse, and rides hard toward the port.
the port is alive with activity, even at this late hour. lanterns flicker along the docks, casting dancing shadows over crates and barrels stacked haphazardly on the cobblestone streets. the mingling scents of saltwater, fish, and the faint aroma of cooking food fill the air, blending with the murmur of voices and the occasional shout.
jake dismounts, his legs unsteady beneath him, and stumbles toward the nearest tavern. he pushes through the door, the sudden warmth and noise hitting him like a wave. the place is packed with sailors, merchants, and travellers, all jostling for space at the bar or crammed around rough wooden tables.
he makes his way to the counter, slamming a few coins down with a defiant thud. “wine,” he orders, his voice clipped, already half-regretting coming here. but the thought of returning to the castle, to the cold, judgmental eyes of his father, is unbearable.
the bartender, an older man with a weary expression, gives him a sceptical look before pouring a generous glass of deep red wine. jake downs it in one gulp, the liquid burning a path down his throat and settling like a lead weight in his stomach. he signals for another.
it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to take hold, dulling the edges of his anger, turning his thoughts sluggish and blurred. he drinks more, his head buzzing, the world tilting and swaying around him. the tavern becomes a haze of laughter and music, the faces around him blurring into a confusing swirl.
jake stands, the room spinning as he lurches toward the door. he needs air. the port outside is cooler, the breeze off the water sharp against his flushed skin. he staggers down the street, past warehouses and shipyards, the distant calls of sailors and the creak of wooden hulls filling the night.
he’s barely aware of his surroundings, his thoughts a tangled mess. his father’s voice, cold and unyielding, echoes in his mind. you will do as you are told. 
his grip tightens around the empty bottle in his hand, a surge of bitterness rising in his chest. what’s the point of being a prince if he has no freedom, no say in his own life?
a sharp laugh escapes him, bitter and hollow, as he sways dangerously close to the edge of the dock, peering down at the dark water below. maybe he should just jump. see what the sea has to offer. it can’t be worse than the life he’s stuck in now.
“prince jake, making a scene again,” someone mutters, and jake spins toward the voice, nearly tripping over his own feet.
“what did you say?” he demands, his voice slurred, wavering between arrogance and vulnerability. but the speaker—a grizzled old sailor—just shakes his head and turns away, clearly not interested in a fight.
jake scoffs, tipping his bottle back for another long gulp. the wine burns down his throat, but it’s a good burn, a grounding one. the kind that keeps him from thinking too much, from feeling too much.
his father’s words echo in his mind, and he takes another drink to drown them out. it’s not fair. none of it is fair. he’s supposed to be a prince, not a puppet. he’s supposed to have choices, damn it.
somewhere in the fog of his thoughts, he hears someone calling his name. a guard, maybe, or a servant sent to drag him back to the palace. jake ignores them, staggering away, further down the docks, away from the prying eyes and the whispered gossip.
he stops near the end of the pier, where the water laps quietly against the posts, dark and deep beneath the pale moonlight. the waves are hypnotic, soothing in their endless rhythm, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over his heated skin.
“i don’t know what i want,” he mutters to the empty night. “i don’t know what i’m supposed to do…”
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from the deck of your ship, you had been watching the entire scene unfold with growing amusement. 
your ship had been docked for the past few days at the kingdom’s bustling port, quietly resupplying while avoiding any unwanted attention from the royal guards or port authorities. it was a place of wealth and opportunity, perfect for pirates like you to slip through the cracks and gather supplies, crew, and sometimes, new opportunities.
and tonight, an opportunity had wandered right into your line of sight.
“captain,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes also fixed on the drunken prince below. your first mate, always alert, always sharp. he stood beside you at the bow of the ship, arms crossed, the shadow of a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the scene below. “isn’t that the royal brat we’ve heard about?”
you didn’t answer at first, too busy studying the scene unfolding at the dock. prince jake—dishevelled, clearly intoxicated, and seemingly alone—was making a spectacle of himself. despite the late hour, there were still enough people around to whisper and mutter as the prince stumbled about, oblivious to their stares.
“looks like he’s having himself quite the night,” you remarked, a sly grin curling across your lips.
jungwon raised an eyebrow. “seems like he’s also forgotten he’s the heir to the kingdom. i’d bet he’s about to make a fool of himself before sunrise.”
you chuckled softly, your mind already working through the possibilities. “or… we could help him make an even bigger fool of himself.” you glanced at jungwon, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “how much do you think a prince is worth in ransom?”
jungwon’s smirk widened. “more than enough to keep us comfortable for a while.”
your gaze flicked back to jake. the wine had clearly taken hold of him, his steps becoming more erratic, his words slurred and aimless. his father had likely forced him into some political arrangement—probably that marriage you’d heard whispers of. how fitting that the prince, buckling under pressure, would run to the one place where a pirate could take advantage of him.
the idea of holding a prince for ransom made your fingers twitch with greed. the thought of the king, scrambling to rescue his son, made your heart race with anticipation. and besides, the prince was practically serving himself up to you on a silver platter.
“get the crew ready,” you ordered jungwon, stepping back from the railing. “i think it’s time we gave the good prince a proper introduction to life at sea.”
jungwon nodded, already slipping into action. the rest of the crew moved with quiet efficiency as they prepared for the impromptu kidnapping. there was no need for loud orders or clumsy manoeuvres—your crew knew how to handle this. you’d done it before, and you’d do it again. but this time, the stakes were much, much higher.
your boots clicked against the wooden planks as you descended the gangway, your crew flanking you. the night air was cool and sharp, the faint scent of seaweed and brine mixing with the distant aroma of the city behind you. as you approached the drunken prince, you couldn’t help but smile. he was still mumbling to himself, oblivious to the danger that had begun circling him.
“good evening, your highness,” you said, your voice low and dripping with mockery.
jake turned, blinking at you with bleary, confused eyes. he was handsome, you had to admit—handsome in that polished, princely way that marked him as soft, unused to the real world beyond his royal walls. his tousled hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at you, trying to make sense of your presence.
“wha—who are you?” he slurred, swaying slightly. his gaze flicked to the men behind you, then back to your face, the confusion deepening. “what… what do you want?”
you smiled, taking a slow step closer, letting him feel the weight of your presence. “oh, nothing much. just a little ransom. you know how it goes.”
jake frowned, trying to comprehend your words through the haze of alcohol. “ransom…?”
“you, my dear prince, are coming with me,” you said smoothly. “don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. just business. you understand business, right?”
he stumbled backward as your crew moved in, panic flashing across his features. “no, wait—what—what are you doing?” his voice rose, but it was too late. jungwon had already seized him by the arm, the prince’s drunken protests falling on deaf ears as your crew quickly subdued him, binding his wrists.
“you can struggle all you want,” you said, your voice calm, almost amused. “but it won’t do you any good. you’re coming aboard my ship now, your highness. congratulations, you’ve been promoted from prince to captive.”
jake cursed under his breath, his attempts at resistance clumsy and ineffective. the sight of him, so out of his element, so thoroughly unprepared for the world you inhabited, made your grin widen. he had no idea what was in store for him.
jungwon gave you a brief nod as the crew hauled jake toward the ship. “this is going to be interesting.”
“very,” you replied, your eyes still on the prince. the ransom you’d demand would be enough to keep your crew well-fed and supplied for a long time. maybe even enough to retire somewhere warm and far away.
the thought of the king’s panic when he realised his son had been taken made your blood sing with excitement. this was going to be a payday worth remembering.
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jake’s head felt like it had been split in two.
groaning, he slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. everything hurt—his temples throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his stomach churned in protest against the excess of wine from the night before. it took a moment for his vision to clear, the blurred shapes around him slowly coming into focus.
he was lying on a rough, uncomfortable mattress, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over him. the room was dim, lit only by a thin sliver of sunlight seeping through a small, grimy window high up on the wall. wooden beams crisscrossed above him, the ceiling low and oppressive. the walls were bare, made of dark, weathered wood that creaked softly as the entire room seemed to sway and shift.
jake sat up with a start, his head spinning from the sudden movement. he clutched his forehead, trying to piece together the fragments of last night’s memories. the port, the wine, his father’s angry voice ringing in his ears—those memories were clear enough. but everything after that was a blur.
he tried to stand, but his legs felt unsteady, his balance thrown off by the gentle rocking beneath his feet. the floor tilted, and jake stumbled, grabbing at the wall for support.
“where the hell…?” his voice came out hoarse, and he swallowed painfully, his throat raw. the last thing he remembered was being at the docks, stumbling around like an idiot. and then… he closed his eyes, trying to recall. there had been a voice—a mocking, lilting voice. he’d seen a shadowed figure, someone who’d grabbed him…
his eyes flew open as realisation dawned.
“pirates,” he whispered, the word sending a chill down his spine.
he looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings. the room was small, the only furnishings a rickety wooden chair and a small table bolted to the floor. there were no decorations, no signs of luxury or comfort. this wasn’t some noble’s estate or a secluded inn—this was a ship. he was on a ship.
panic flared in his chest. he had to get out, had to—
the door creaked open, interrupting his frantic thoughts. jake whirled around, his heart pounding as a figure stepped into the room.
when jake laid his eyes on you, standing in the dimly lit cabin, he couldn't help but stare. despite the circumstances, there was an undeniable air of confidence and danger that drew him in, like a storm you couldn't look away from. your sharp eyes, steady and calculating, seemed to glimmer with mischief beneath the low light, framed by wild strands of hair that escaped the loose tie holding it back. the leather jacket you wore clung to your form, tough yet graceful, and with each step you took toward him, he felt a mixture of intimidation and awe. you were no princess from some royal court. you were real—strong, commanding, and utterly breathtaking in a way that made his heart race for reasons he couldn't quite name.
you leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile playing on your lips. “good morning, your highness. sleep well?”
jake stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words. it was you—the pirate from last night. the one who had taken him. the one responsible for this entire nightmare. 
“wha—where am i?” he demanded, his voice shaky but edged with anger. “what the hell is going on?”
you raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his confusion. “you’re on my ship, prince. welcome aboard.”
“your ship?” he took a step back, his eyes darting around as if expecting to find some hidden exit. “you—why did you—”
“kidnap you?” you supplied helpfully, your grin widening. “i thought that much was obvious.”
he glared at you, the fear and anger in his eyes warring for dominance. “you can’t do this. do you have any idea who i am?”
you chuckled softly. “of course i do. you’re prince jake, heir to the throne, soon-to-be husband to some poor girl you’ve never met. or were supposed to be, anyway.”
jake bristled at your words, the reminder of his unwanted engagement fueling his anger. “then you know my father will have your head for this. you’re making a huge mistake.”
you shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “maybe. but it’s a very profitable mistake. you see, your highness, you’re worth quite a lot of money. i’m sure your father will be more than happy to pay a hefty sum to get you back.”
jake’s jaw clenched. he could feel his heart racing, the situation spiralling further out of his control with every word you spoke. “you’re a fool if you think he’ll give in to your demands. he doesn’t negotiate with—”
“pirates?” you interrupted, your voice mocking. “no, i suppose he wouldn’t. but we’re not just any pirates, prince. we’re very persuasive.”
jake’s eyes narrowed. “what do you want?”
you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. then you pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps toward him. “like i said, a ransom. nothing too extravagant—just enough gold and jewels to make this little detour worth our while.”
he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, his chin lifting defiantly. “and if i refuse?”
you laughed then, a light, almost playful sound that made his blood boil. “oh, your highness, you really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. we’re going to contact your father, and he’s going to pay us. if he doesn’t…” you shrugged again, the gesture casual, almost careless. “well, let’s just say there are plenty of other kingdoms that might be interested in buying a prince.”
jake’s blood ran cold at the implication. he had no doubt you were serious, the casualness of your threat only making it more chilling. he clenched his fists, feeling a surge of helpless rage. he hated this—hated feeling so powerless, so trapped.
“why me?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “why did you choose to kidnap me?”
you smirked, leaning back against the table, crossing your arms again. “why not? you were practically begging for it last night. drunk and stumbling around the docks, without a guard in sight. you made it too easy.”
jake glared at you, his face flushed with anger and shame. he had been stupid, reckless. he knew that. but to hear you say it, to see the amusement in your eyes—it made his humiliation burn even hotter.
“and besides,” you continued, your tone more thoughtful now. “there’s something… interesting about you, prince. most royal brats would be crying by now, begging for mercy or trying to bribe their way out of this. but you—” you looked him over, your gaze sharp and assessing. “you’ve got a bit of fight in you. i like that.”
he swallowed, his throat dry. “if you think i’m going to just sit here and let you ransom me off, you’re mistaken.”
“oh, i don’t expect you to sit quietly, jake,” you said, his name rolling off your tongue with a teasing lilt. “but you will stay here. and you will do exactly as i say. because if you don’t…” you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “things could get very unpleasant for you.”
jake’s heart hammered in his chest, the threat hanging heavy in the air between you. but he refused to back down, refused to let you see just how scared he was. “you’re a coward,” he spat, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “hiding behind threats and chains.”
you straightened, your smile fading slightly, replaced by a cool, calculating look. “maybe. but i’m the coward who’s holding you prisoner, and you’re the one locked in this room. so who really has the power here, prince?”
jake didn’t have an answer to that, the reality of his situation crashing down around him. he was trapped, alone, at the mercy of a pirate who seemed to find his struggles more amusing than anything else.
you watched him for a moment longer, then turned, heading for the door. “i’d get comfortable if i were you. we’ll be sending your father a little message soon. until then, try not to get into too much trouble.”
with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. jake was left standing there, his heart racing, his mind whirling with a thousand unanswered questions.
he took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the small, cramped space. there had to be a way out of this. he wasn’t going to let you—let anyone—control his fate. he was a prince, damn it. and he would find a way to take back control, no matter what it took.
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jake spent the next few hours pacing the confines of his makeshift cell, frustration bubbling in his chest like a pot set to boil. every creak and sway of the ship was a reminder of where he was—trapped on a pirate vessel, of all places. he had never felt more out of his depth, more powerless, and it infuriated him. 
the room was small and sparsely furnished, nothing like the opulence he was used to in the palace. he had grown up surrounded by luxury—plush carpets, gilded furniture, and servants who attended to his every whim. here, there was only the harsh creak of the wooden floorboards and the faint smell of saltwater seeping through the cracks in the planks. it was a stark, unpleasant contrast, and jake’s sense of indignation grew with every second.
he tugged at the bindings around his wrists for what felt like the hundredth time, hissing in irritation as the ropes bit into his skin. “unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. “kidnapped by a bunch of filthy pirates. my father will have their heads for this.”
his thoughts whirled, oscillating between anger and disbelief. did you really think you could get away with this? he was a prince—he wasn’t supposed to be treated like some common prisoner. yet, here he was, bound and helpless, his only company the relentless thrum of the ship’s hull cutting through the waves.
the door swung open suddenly, and you sauntered in, a smug grin on your face. “good to see you’re making yourself at home, prince.”
jake glared at you, his eyes blazing. “you think this is funny?”
you raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your gaze. “i think it’s hilarious, actually. you should’ve seen yourself last night, stumbling around like a newborn foal. if it weren’t so pathetic, i might’ve felt sorry for you.”
jake bristled at your words. “my father will crush you for this,” he spat, his voice tinged with the haughty arrogance of a nobleman used to getting his way. “do you know what happens to people who cross the crown?”
you chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “i’ve got a pretty good idea, but thanks for the warning.” you glanced at the bindings around his wrists, then back at his face. “now, are you going to behave, or do i need to tie you up even tighter?”
he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “you really think you can intimidate me with your crude threats? i’ve dealt with far scarier people than you.”
“oh, really?” you said, your voice dripping with mock interest. “and who might that be? your etiquette tutor?”
jake’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. “this isn’t a joke! i’m not some commoner you can push around. i have rights, and you—”
“—have no leverage here,” you finished, your voice firm and steady. you stepped closer, your gaze locking onto his. “you’re on my ship, prince. your rights are whatever i decide they are. and if you keep up this bratty behaviour, you’ll find out just how limited those rights can be.”
jake stared at you, his pulse pounding in his ears. he was used to people deferring to him, used to his word being law. this was… humiliating. he opened his mouth to retort, but the words stuck in his throat, his outrage tangling with something else—fear, maybe, or the uncomfortable realisation that, for now, you were right.
he turned away, biting down hard on his lower lip. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
you watched him for a moment, your expression softening slightly. “you might as well get used to it, your highness,” you said, your tone less mocking, more pragmatic. “we’re going to be at sea for a while. unless you’d rather spend your days tied up in this cabin, i’d suggest you start cooperating.”
“cooperating?” he whipped around, his eyes flashing. “with you? never.”
you shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his defiance. “suit yourself. but just so you know, it’s not going to be as bad as you think. you might even enjoy it, if you’d pull that stick out of your royal ass.”
he made a noise of disbelief, shaking his head. “enjoy being a prisoner on a pirate ship? are you mad?”
“not mad, just realistic,” you replied, your smile returning. “you could sit here sulking, or you could make the best of it. who knows? maybe you’ll learn something.”
jake let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “learn something? from a bunch of lawless thugs?”
“you’d be surprised,” you said lightly. “you might find there’s more to life than being a spoiled prince.”
the words struck a nerve, and jake bristled, his shoulders tense. “you don’t know anything about me.”
“i know enough,” you said, your tone thoughtful now. “i know you’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, who to marry. must get tiring after a while, huh?”
jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. because you were right. the constant expectations, the endless duties—it was exhausting. but he’d never admit that to you.
you watched him, your gaze assessing, then straightened, pushing off the wall. “well, when you’re ready to stop being a brat and start acting like a human being, let me know. maybe we can talk like adults.”
he glared at you, his pride refusing to let him back down. “i don’t need your pity, pirate.”
“it’s not pity,” you said calmly. “it’s a chance. take it or leave it.”
with that, you turned and left the room, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. jake stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind racing.
he hated you. hated the way you talked to him, the way you looked at him, like he was some petulant child who didn’t know any better. but more than that, he hated the way your words made something inside him twist uncomfortably, the way they hit just a little too close to the truth.
because the truth was, he was tired. tired of being the perfect prince, the obedient son, the pawn in his father’s endless political games. and in a strange, twisted way, there was a part of him that almost—almost—wanted to see what you meant. to understand what life was like outside the confines of the palace walls.
but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing that.
not yet, anyway.
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jake spent the next day doing his best to test your patience. he may have been stuck in this small, grimy room, but he wasn’t about to let you think he was going to cooperate. no, he was a prince, and he would find a way to make you regret kidnapping him.
the first signs of trouble came early. he knocked over the water pitcher, letting the liquid spill across the floor, then stood back, crossing his arms as if daring someone to come clean it up. a little while later, he took the plate of bread and fruit jungwon had brought him and tossed it out the small window, watching as it splashed into the sea below.
when you walked in, you found him lounging on the chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile on his face.
“comfortable, your highness?” you asked, your tone dry.
“quite,” jake replied, his smile widening. “just thought i’d redecorate. this place is rather… drab.”
you glanced at the puddle of water spreading across the floor, the broken plate shards glittering near the window, and shook your head. “right. very tasteful. i see why you were forced into diplomacy and not design.”
jake's expression hardened. “i was trying to make a point.”
“and what point is that?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, amusement dancing in your eyes. “that you have the maturity of a toddler?”
before jake could respond, jungwon entered the room, a look of mild exasperation on his face. he glanced around, taking in the mess, then turned to you.
“captain, you need me to deal with this?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward jake. “or should we just toss him overboard and be done with it?”
jake’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly schooled his expression back into one of defiance. “i’d like to see you try.”
jungwon smirked, folding his arms. “you wouldn’t last a minute, prince. trust me.”
you chuckled, shaking your head. “no one’s getting tossed overboard. but it seems our guest needs a lesson in respecting his hosts.”
jungwon raised an eyebrow. “you want me to teach him some manners?”
jake bristled. “i don’t need to be taught anything by you.”
“oh, this is going to be fun,” jungwon said, his grin widening. he stepped closer to jake, who leaned back slightly, clearly trying not to look intimidated.
“what are you going to do?” jake asked, his voice trying to sound brave but betraying a hint of nervousness.
jungwon looked at him thoughtfully. “well, i could make you swab the deck, or clean the bilge. but honestly, you look like you’ve never worked a day in your life. so maybe i’ll just take you to the galley and see if you can peel potatoes without whining.”
jake blinked, caught off guard. “peel potatoes?”
“yep.” jungwon clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “you’ll be the galley’s new assistant. keeps you busy and out of trouble.”
jake glanced at you, then back at jungwon. “you can’t be serious.”
“oh, i’m very serious,” jungwon said, his smile turning almost wicked. “we’ll see if you can hold a knife without crying about your precious hands getting dirty.”
jake opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. instead, he turned back to you, his expression defiant but wavering. “you’re really going to make me do this?”
you shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you did say you were bored. and i think it’s about time you earned your keep, don’t you?”
before jake could respond, jungwon grabbed his arm and started hauling him out of the cabin. “come on, your highness. let’s see what you’re made of.”
“hey—wait!” jake protested, stumbling slightly as jungwon pulled him along. “i’m not going to—”
“oh, but you are,” jungwon said cheerfully. “and if you’re lucky, i might even let you eat some of what you cook. assuming it’s not completely inedible.”
as the two of them disappeared down the corridor, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. jungwon was good at handling difficult captives, and jake was certainly proving to be a challenge. 
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the galley was a bustling, cramped space filled with the clatter of pots and the smell of cooking food. jake stood in the middle of it all, looking utterly out of place and thoroughly miserable.
“this is ridiculous,” he muttered as jungwon handed him a bucket of potatoes and a small, worn knife.
“maybe,” jungwon agreed, a teasing smile on his lips, “but it’s also your job now. so get peeling, prince.”
jake scowled, holding the knife awkwardly as he fumbled with the first potato. “i don’t know how to do this.”
jungwon rolled his eyes. “of course you don’t. here, let me show you.” he took the knife and a potato, demonstrating the quick, efficient motion of peeling it. “see? easy.”
jake watched, his pride clearly stinging, but he took the knife back and attempted to mimic jungwon’s actions. he managed to slice off a decent chunk of the potato along with the peel, grimacing as he looked at the uneven result.
jungwon snickered. “not bad for a first try. now you only have, oh, about a hundred more to go.”
jake glared at him. “i don’t see why i should be doing this. i’m not some servant.”
“no, you’re a captive,” jungwon reminded him, his tone light but firm. “and captives who don’t cause trouble get treated well. those who do…” he let the sentence hang, his grin turning sharp.
jake huffed but turned his attention back to the potato, muttering under his breath about the indignity of it all. jungwon watched him struggle for a moment, then, with a sigh, grabbed a knife and started peeling alongside him.
“just try to keep up,” jungwon teased, effortlessly skinning a potato in record time.
jake’s face burned with frustration, but he forced himself to focus, determined not to let the pirate best him. it was a small, ridiculous battle of wills, but for some reason, it mattered.
despite himself, jake found the rhythm of the work strangely calming. it was mindless, but in a way, it gave him something to focus on other than the fact that he was a prisoner on a pirate ship. and, to his annoyance, jungwon’s casual, bantering presence made it a little less unbearable.
by the time they finished, jake’s hands were cramping, and there was a pile of poorly peeled potatoes at his feet. he looked at them with a mix of pride and disgust.
“not bad,” jungwon said, his tone surprisingly genuine. “for a beginner.”
jake looked at him, surprised. “you’re not going to mock me?”
jungwon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’ll save it for when you actually deserve it.”
jake snorted, shaking his head. “i still don’t see why i have to do this.”
“think of it as character building,” jungwon suggested with a grin. “besides, it’s better than sitting in that room, sulking.”
jake glanced at the pile of potatoes, then back at jungwon, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “i suppose there are worse things.”
“there definitely are,” jungwon said with a laugh. “now, let’s get these to the cook before he decides to use us for stew.”
as they headed toward the galley, jake couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with the pirate beside him. it was confusing, unsettling even, but for the first time since he’d been taken, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.
and, who knows? he might even learn a thing or two along the way.
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as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the ship, the crew gathered on the main deck for dinner. the air was filled with the scent of grilled fish and freshly baked bread, the sound of laughter and conversation creating a lively atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the tension of earlier in the day.
jake, still somewhat dazed from his unexpected kitchen duties, found himself standing awkwardly on the edge of the group. he glanced around, taking in the relaxed, almost familial vibe of the crew as they ate and joked with each other. it was strange, seeing these hardened pirates—people he’d been raised to think of as ruthless and bloodthirsty—sharing food and stories like any other group of sailors.
he felt completely out of place.
“you gonna stand there all night, or are you actually going to eat something?” jungwon’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. the first mate appeared beside him, holding a plate piled high with food.
jake hesitated, glancing at the plate and then back at jungwon. “is this… for me?”
jungwon rolled his eyes. “no, it’s for the seagulls. yes, it’s for you. now, sit.”
jake took the plate gingerly, his stomach growling in response to the smell. he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now. he followed jungwon to a spot near the railing, where they both sat down on the wooden deck.
the food was simple but delicious: grilled fish, a slice of bread, and a generous portion of roasted vegetables. jake ate slowly, savouring each bite, his earlier defiance momentarily forgotten in the face of genuine hunger.
“you know, i’m surprised you didn’t just throw this overboard too,” jungwon remarked, his tone teasing but not unkind.
jake shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “i might be a little spoiled, but i’m not stupid. i know when to appreciate a good meal.”
“glad to hear it,” jungwon said with a grin. “our cook might have thrown you overboard if you wasted his food.”
jake raised an eyebrow. “is that a joke?”
“maybe,” jungwon replied, winking. “but you don’t want to test him. trust me.”
despite himself, jake chuckled, shaking his head. “you’re all crazy.”
“welcome aboard, then,” jungwon quipped, earning another small laugh from jake. it was strange, this easy camaraderie they were developing, but in a way, it was a relief. better this than more conflict.
as they ate, the conversation flowed easily between them. jungwon told a few stories about the crew, pointing out various members and sharing their quirks and histories. he spoke of the time he’d joined the crew himself, how he’d been just a reckless kid looking for adventure, not unlike jake in some ways.
“and then there’s the captain,” jungwon said, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “she’s the reason most of us are here. tough as nails, but fair. she sees things in people, you know? things they don���t see in themselves.”
jake glanced over at you, where you were standing near the helm, talking quietly with another crew member. he thought about how you’d handled him earlier, firm but not cruel, refusing to rise to his provocations. there was something about you—something he couldn’t quite figure out, but it intrigued him.
“she certainly has a unique recruitment strategy,” he said dryly, taking another bite of fish.
jungwon snorted. “yeah, kidnapping royalty isn’t exactly standard procedure. but you’re a special case.”
jake frowned. “special how?”
“you really don’t know, do you?” jungwon asked, tilting his head. “i mean, i’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about your own kingdom. the unrest, the protests. people aren’t happy, and your father’s trying to patch things up with that marriage alliance. he’s desperate to secure his rule.”
jake’s expression tightened. he knew all of this, of course. it was why he’d been so frustrated, so angry. he didn’t want to be a pawn in his father’s political games, married off to some princess he didn’t even know just to keep the peace. but hearing it laid out like this, from a pirate of all people, made it feel more real, more urgent.
“and what does that have to do with me?” he asked, his voice tense.
jungwon shrugged. “it means you’re valuable. not just as a prince, but as a symbol. people see you as the future of the kingdom, for better or worse. and if you’re here, with us… well, it changes things.”
jake stared at him, his mind racing. he hadn’t thought about it like that. he’d been so focused on his own feelings, his own desires, that he hadn’t considered how his actions might affect others.
before he could respond, you approached, a wry smile on your lips. “are you boring him with pirate politics, jungwon?”
jungwon grinned up at you. “just making sure he knows what he’s gotten himself into.”
you looked down at jake, your gaze sharp but not unkind. “and do you?”
jake met your eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions—defiance, curiosity, even a hint of respect. “i’m starting to.”
“good,” you said, nodding approvingly. “because you’re not going to get any special treatment here. if you want to survive, you’ll have to work like everyone else.”
jake bristled slightly, but there was no real anger in his voice as he replied, “i’m not afraid of hard work.”
“glad to hear it,” you said, your smile turning almost mischievous. “because tomorrow, you’re on cleaning duty. i expect the deck to be spotless.”
jake groaned, and jungwon burst out laughing. “welcome to pirate life, your highness.”
despite his grumbling, jake found himself smiling, a strange sense of relief washing over him. for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was in control of something, even if it was just his own response to this bizarre situation.
maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make this work. and if he was going to be stuck here, he might as well make the most of it.
“fine,” he said, lifting his chin slightly. “but don’t think i’m doing it for free.”
you laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “oh? and what do you want in return, prince?”
jake thought for a moment, then smiled. “a chance to prove you wrong.”
you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “about what?”
“that i can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “i’m not just some spoiled royal. i can be more than that.”
you considered him for a moment, then nodded, a hint of respect in your gaze. “we’ll see. but i’ll hold you to that.”
as the crew continued to eat and talk around them, jake felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside him. maybe this was his chance to figure out who he really was, beyond the title and the expectations.
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the following days saw jake throwing himself into work with a single-minded determination, his initial resistance shifting into a genuine desire to prove himself. the crew, initially sceptical, began to warm up to his efforts. they watched as he took on every menial task without complaint, his posture growing less rigid with each passing day, his movements becoming more confident.
and then there was you—always watching, always testing.
one afternoon, after an exhausting morning of scrubbing the deck and assisting the crew with their duties, jake approached jungwon, who was busy adjusting the sails.
“i want to learn,” jake said, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead.
jungwon glanced at him, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes. “learn what, your highness?”
“everything,” jake replied, determination evident in his tone. “navigation, sailing, sword fighting—whatever it takes.”
jungwon raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “alright. but don’t expect us to go easy on you. if you want to learn, you’ll have to earn it.”
jake’s gaze shifted to you, where you stood near the helm, a confident presence that seemed to command the very winds. “i’m ready.”
jungwon smirked, but there was a hint of approval in his expression. “we’ll see.”
jake’s training began with the basics: tying knots, handling the rigging, learning the different parts of the ship. he was clumsy at first, his hands unused to the rough work, but he was quick to learn, his determination driving him forward. you watched from a distance, your eyes sharp, taking in every stumble, every success.
as the days passed, jake’s confidence grew. he started to understand the rhythms of the sea, the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the crew worked together like the well-oiled parts of a single, living entity. and he found himself drawn to you, despite his best efforts to keep his distance.
there was something about the way you moved, the way you spoke to the crew with a mix of authority and respect, that both fascinated and frustrated him. you were nothing like the people he’d known at court—no politeness masking cruelty, no false smiles. just raw, unflinching honesty.
one evening, after a long day of work, jake found you alone on the quarterdeck, studying a weathered map spread out on a small table. the sky was awash in shades of pink and gold, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon.
“captain,” he called out, his voice tentative.
you glanced up, your expression unreadable. “yes, prince?”
he hesitated, then gestured to the map. “i was hoping you could teach me navigation. i know the basics, but… i want to know more.”
you studied him for a long moment, your gaze searching his face as if weighing his sincerity. finally, you nodded. “show me what you know.”
he stepped forward, standing close enough to feel the warmth of your body, the subtle scent of salt and sea air that clung to your clothes. you handed him a sextant, and he took it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second—a touch so fleeting it could have been an accident, yet it sent a strange jolt through him.
“use this to measure the angle of the sun,” you instructed, your voice low and calm. “compare that to the time of day, and you can find our latitude.”
he did as you said, holding the instrument up and adjusting it carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him closely, stepping closer to adjust his grip. your fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.
“like this,” you murmured, your breath warm against his cheek.
jake swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. he nodded, his voice coming out a little too rough. “got it.”
you stepped back, watching as he took the reading and compared it to the chart. when he got it right, he felt a surge of pride. he glanced at you, half-expecting to see you dismissive or indifferent, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips, a glint of approval in your eyes.
“not bad,” you said, nodding. “keep practising.”
“thanks,” he said, his voice softer now. he hesitated, then added, “i appreciate you giving me a chance.”
you shrugged, turning back to the map. “just don’t make me regret it.”
that night, he lay in his hammock, staring up at the ceiling of the small cabin. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d looked at him, the way your touch had felt against his skin. it was maddening, this pull he felt toward you, this mix of admiration and frustration, desire and defiance.
the next day, jake’s restlessness found an outlet in a sparring session with the crew. he watched as you and jungwon faced off on the deck, your swords clashing in a blur of silver and steel. the crew gathered around, cheering and laughing, but all jake could focus on was you—the fierce, almost predatory grace of your movements, the way you seemed to anticipate jungwon’s every move.
in the end, you disarmed him easily, your blade pressing lightly against his chest.
“yield?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.
jungwon grinned, stepping back with a mock bow. “yield, captain. for now.”
you lowered your sword, turning to jake. “what about you, prince? care to try your luck?”
jake felt his heart skip a beat. he’d been wanting this—craving a chance to prove himself, to push back against the tension simmering between you. he picked up a practice sword, testing its weight.
“i’m ready,” he said, meeting your gaze head-on.
the crew fell silent as you took your positions. you watched him, your expression unreadable, and then you moved. jake barely had time to react, his blade clashing against yours with a jarring force that sent vibrations up his arm.
“too slow,” you said, your voice almost a purr.
he gritted his teeth, pushing back. “i’m just getting started.”
you smiled—a real, genuine smile that was somehow more dangerous than any glare. you stepped back, feinting to the left before striking right. he blocked, his movements instinctive, adrenaline singing in his veins.
“good,” you murmured. “but not good enough.”
you moved like water, slipping past his defences, your blade coming to rest against his throat. he froze, his breath catching. you were so close now, your eyes locked on his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.
“yield?” you asked, your voice soft, almost teasing.
jake swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. he wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension, but his mouth felt dry. “never.”
you held his gaze for a long, intense moment, then lowered your sword, stepping back. “we’ll see.”
as the crew began to disperse, jake remained where he was, his heart still racing. he watched as you turned away, your expression unreadable, and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.
later, as the evening settled in and the crew gathered for dinner, jake found himself once again at the edge of the group. jungwon, catching sight of him, waved him over.
“hey, prince. you did good today,” he said, offering jake a plate of food.
jake took it, still slightly dazed. “thanks. i just—” he glanced over at you, where you were talking quietly with one of the crew. “i can’t figure her out.”
jungwon followed his gaze, then shrugged. “she’s the captain. she’s not supposed to be easy to figure out.”
jake frowned. “but there’s something else, isn’t there? it’s like… she’s testing me. but for what?”
jungwon chuckled. “maybe she’s trying to see if you’re worth all the trouble you’ve caused.”
jake considered that, then shook his head. “no, it’s more than that. i just… i want to prove myself.”
“to her?” jungwon asked, raising an eyebrow.
jake hesitated, then nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i do.”
jungwon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “good luck with that. she’s a tough one to impress.”
jake glanced over at you again, feeling that familiar pull, that mix of challenge and fascination. he didn’t know what he was trying to prove, or even why it mattered so much, but he knew one thing for certain:
he wasn’t going to give up.
the next day, jake found himself at the helm with you again, the map spread out between you. you were showing him how to chart a course, your voice calm and patient as you explained the intricacies of navigation.
he watched you, your profile sharp and focused, the way your fingers traced the lines on the map with practised ease. he wondered what it would be like to know you—not just as the captain, but as the person behind the title.
“do you ever get tired of it?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.
you glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “tired of what?”
“this,” he gestured around, at the ship, the sea. “the constant moving, the danger. don’t you ever want something… more stable?”
your eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d overstepped. but then you shrugged, your gaze turning distant.
“stability’s a cage, prince. i’ve been there, and i’m not going back.”
jake felt a pang of something—sympathy, understanding. he nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i know what you mean.”
you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw something soften in your eyes. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by your usual guardedness.
“focus on the map, prince,” you said, your tone brisk. “you still have a lot to learn.”
jake smiled, despite himself. “yes, captain.”
and as the sun set on another day, he felt that spark of determination flare brighter. he would learn. he would prove himself. not just to you, but to himself.
because, whether he liked it or not, he was starting to realise that out here, on this ship, with you and this crew, he was beginning to feel something he’d never felt before.
he was beginning to feel like he belonged.
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the days passed in a blur of new experiences and hard work. jake found himself adapting to life on your ship quicker than he’d expected. there was something strangely liberating about the simplicity of it—no formalities, no expectations to be anything other than himself. but he couldn’t deny that his eyes sought you out constantly, intrigued by the way you commanded respect and moved with an easy confidence that spoke of years at sea.
he’d thrown himself into learning as much as he could, from tying complicated knots to reading the winds and stars. jungwon, patient but merciless in his training, guided him through the intricacies of navigation and combat. the crew had begun to warm to him, and he even caught you watching him with something that looked almost like approval.
one evening, after a long day of training and chores, jake wandered onto the deck, his muscles aching but his mind clear. the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the sea, and a peaceful silence had settled over the ship. most of the crew were below deck, resting or eating, leaving the upper deck quiet and empty.
he found you at the helm, hands resting lightly on the wheel as you guided the ship through the gentle evening breeze. you glanced over as he approached, a slight smile tugging at your lips.
“shouldn’t you be resting, prince? jungwon tells me he’s been working you pretty hard.”
jake shrugged, leaning against the railing beside you. “resting’s for people who know what they’re doing. i still have a lot to learn.”
you raised an eyebrow, your smile widening slightly. “i didn’t think you’d last this long.”
“neither did i,” he admitted, laughing softly. “but i’m starting to get the hang of it. you know, it’s not so different from court politics. a lot of manoeuvring, knowing who to trust and when to watch your back.”
you snorted, shaking your head. “except here, if you mess up, you end up overboard.”
he grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “sounds like dinner at the palace.”
you chuckled, the sound surprising him. it was rare to hear you laugh, and he found he liked it more than he expected. there was a softness to it that contrasted with your usual sharp edges, making him wonder what other sides of you lay hidden beneath your tough exterior.
“maybe you’re not so different from us after all,” you said, your tone thoughtful as you looked out at the horizon. “you’ve held your own better than i expected.”
jake’s smile faded slightly, a serious look crossing his face. “i want to be more than just a prince who got kidnapped. i want to prove that i can do this, that i belong here.”
you turned to look at him, something unreadable in your eyes. “why? you have a whole kingdom waiting for you. what’s the point of trying so hard to fit in here?”
he hesitated, then sighed, his gaze dropping to the deck. “because i don’t know if i belong there anymore. i spent my whole life being told what to do, what to be. i thought i knew what i wanted, but now… now i’m not so sure.”
you were silent for a long moment, watching him carefully. “this isn’t an easy life, jake. it’s not just about adventure and freedom. there’s danger, uncertainty. every day is a fight to survive.”
“i know,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze. “but at least here, i get to decide who i am. even if it’s hard.”
you studied him, your expression softening slightly. “and who do you want to be?”
he swallowed, his heart pounding. “i don’t know yet. but i think i want to find out.”
you nodded slowly, something like understanding flickering in your eyes. “well, as long as you’re on my ship, you’re one of us. and that means you pull your weight, no special treatment.”
he smiled, relief and gratitude flooding him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
the two of you stood there for a while, the silence between you comfortable, almost companionable. the sea stretched out before you, dark and endless, the stars beginning to peek through the twilight sky. for the first time in a long while, jake felt a sense of peace, of purpose. he wasn’t sure where this journey would lead, but for now, he was content to take it one step at a time.
“hey, captain,” he said after a while, his voice soft. “thank you.”
you glanced at him, your expression guarded. “for what?”
“for giving me a chance,” he said simply.
you looked away, your fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. “just don’t make me regret it, prince.”
jake smiled, a small, genuine smile that made something inside you twist uncomfortably. “i’ll do my best.”
and for the first time, you found yourself hoping that he would.
after that conversation, jake threw himself even more fervently into life on the ship. he wasn’t just trying to prove himself to you anymore; he was trying to prove it to himself. he took on every challenge with a stubborn determination, even managing to outlast jungwon in a sword-fighting session one afternoon, much to the crew’s amusement.
the more he learned, the more he began to understand the unspoken bonds between the crew members, the camaraderie and trust that held them together even in the face of danger. he found himself laughing more, his shoulders relaxing, the constant tension that had defined his life at court slowly melting away.
one evening, as the crew gathered around for dinner, he found himself seated between you and jungwon, the three of you sharing a rare moment of peace. the crew’s laughter echoed around the deck as they traded stories and jests, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows across their faces.
jake glanced at you, noting the way your shoulders had relaxed, your usual sharp gaze softened. he felt a strange, almost uncomfortable warmth in his chest at the sight of you like this, at ease and unguarded, if only for a moment.
“you know,” he said quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear, “i think i’m starting to get the hang of this whole pirate thing.”
you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “don’t get too cocky, prince. you’ve still got a long way to go.”
he laughed softly, the sound genuine. “i guess i just have a good teacher.”
your gaze flicked to his, and for a moment, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding, a connection that neither of you could quite put into words. it was there in the way your eyes held his, in the faint curve of your lips, in the way his heart seemed to skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat.
before he could say anything more, jungwon, who had been listening in with a grin, leaned over, nudging jake with his elbow.
“careful, prince,” he said with a wink. “the captain’s not someone you want to cross.”
jake grinned, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. “oh, i think i’ve learned that lesson already.”
you rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat in it, your expression softening as you looked between them. “just don’t expect any special treatment. you’re still part of this crew, and that means pulling your weight.”
jake nodded, his smile fading into something more serious. “i will. i promise.”
and as the night wore on, the three of you talking and laughing beneath the stars, he realised that, for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d left behind or what waited for him back at the kingdom. for the first time, he was simply here, in this moment, and it was enough.
the night was calm, the ship gently rocking as it sailed through the endless stretch of sea. above, the sky was a canvas of shimmering stars, scattered like diamonds against the black expanse. you leaned against the railing of the ship, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from the day’s work. the crew had long settled down, their laughter and banter from earlier now replaced by the quiet hum of the ocean. it was peaceful—almost too peaceful for someone like you, used to the chaos and unpredictability of life at sea.
you glanced over your shoulder, seeing jake making his way toward you. he had fit in surprisingly well with the crew, his bratty resistance from the early days replaced by curiosity and, dare you admit it, excitement. his princely demeanour had given way to something more natural, more at ease, as he took to the tasks with a sense of wonder. there was a certain boyish charm in the way he admired everything around him, whether it was the workings of the ship or the loyalty of your crew. and yet, beneath that, something more dangerous was brewing—something between the two of you.
“couldn’t sleep?” you asked as he reached your side.
he shrugged, leaning against the railing next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “not with a view like this,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he gazed up at the stars. “i’ve never seen anything like it. the stars… they feel so close out here.”
you nodded, glancing up as well. “out here, you realise how small you are. it’s humbling.”
jake didn’t respond right away, and the comfortable silence between you stretched. you were both just standing there, side by side, watching the stars and listening to the waves. the night air was cool, and the proximity between you sent a spark through your skin. there had always been something electric about jake—something about the way he looked at you, with that mixture of defiance and admiration, that made you uneasy. and tonight, it felt stronger, like the space between you was filled with unspoken words and a tension you could no longer ignore.
finally, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “i don’t get it,” he began. “why… why choose this life? you could be anywhere, doing anything, and yet, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, living on the edge. why?”
you let out a breath, your hand gripping the railing a little tighter. you’d always avoided these kinds of conversations, especially with people who didn’t understand the choices you’d made. but there was something about the way jake asked—like he wasn’t judging, just genuinely curious.
“i didn’t choose it,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “not at first, anyway.”
jake turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.
“i grew up in a port town, one that was constantly ravaged by raids. pirates came, took what they wanted, and left nothing but ruin behind. my parents... they were honest traders, working to build something. but when the raids became too frequent, we lost everything. one day, they came back, and this time, they didn’t leave anyone alive.” you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. “i survived. i hid while my world burned. after that, i realized that the only way to survive was to become stronger. to become one of them.”
jake’s expression softened, but he said nothing, letting you continue.
“i joined a crew, learned the ropes, and eventually made my own way. it wasn’t about money or fame—not at first. it was survival, pure and simple. but after a while, it became about more than that. it was about freedom. about having control over my own life.” you glanced at him, your voice wavering slightly. “out here, no one can tell me who to be. i make the rules.”
the silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. jake absorbed your words, his eyes searching your face, as if seeing you in a different light. he opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his gaze dropping to the railing. when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him before.
“i never had that,” he said softly. “control, i mean. every part of my life was mapped out before i even had a chance to think for myself. it’s always been about duty. about what’s best for the kingdom.” he let out a short, humourless laugh. “and here i am, kidnapped by a pirate, and it’s the first time i’ve felt free.”
you turned to him, studying his face as he stared out at the sea. there was something raw in his words, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected. he wasn’t just the spoiled prince you’d thought he was. there was a depth to him, a quiet yearning that mirrored your own.
for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you building with every passing second. the gentle sway of the ship seemed to bring you closer, and when jake finally turned to look at you, the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt something shift—a magnetic pull drawing you closer, making it hard to breathe.
“y/n,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the proximity of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped closer, your body betraying the caution that usually ruled you.
he reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it set every nerve in your body alight. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the space between you evaporate.
“jake…” you whispered, unsure of what you were about to say, but it didn’t matter. he was already closing the distance, his lips hovering inches from yours. and then, in one slow, inevitable moment, he kissed you.
it was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters, but then it deepened, the intensity of everything you’d both been holding back pouring into the kiss. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
when you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you.
“jake… i-”
“shh,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “we don’t have to say anything. not right now.”
for the first time in a long time, you felt exposed—your walls crumbling in front of him. and yet, instead of fear, all you felt was relief. maybe, just maybe, there was room for something more in this chaotic, dangerous life. something real.
as the night stretched on and the stars twinkled above, you knew that whatever happened next, this moment had changed everything.
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the days following that night under the stars felt different—charged with an energy neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t just the kiss, though that memory lingered like a spark waiting to ignite at the slightest touch. it was the way jake looked at you now, with a quiet intensity, a hunger in his eyes that made your heart race every time you caught him staring. and it was the way you felt drawn to him, despite the walls you’d built so carefully over the years.
every interaction felt loaded, every conversation laced with a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. yet neither of you spoke about it—not directly. instead, you let your actions speak for you. jake began spending more time by your side, asking questions about the ship, the crew, the sea. his bratty demeanour had all but vanished, replaced by a genuine curiosity, an eagerness to learn.
one afternoon, as you worked side by side on the deck, showing him how to properly tie a sailor’s knot, you felt his eyes on you again. the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the ship, but it was the heat of jake’s gaze that made your skin tingle. he was close—closer than he needed to be—his arm brushing yours as he tried to mimic the knot you’d just demonstrated.
“you’re not paying attention,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.
jake blinked, startled, his focus snapping back to the task at hand. “i am! just… distracted.”
“by what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.
jake gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “you.”
the simplicity of his answer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. instead, you dropped your gaze back to the knot in your hands, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth radiating from his body. you could feel your heart beating faster, the tension between you thick enough to cut.
“you’ll never get this right if you don’t focus,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight tremor.
he grinned, leaning in just a little closer. “maybe i like the distraction.”
you shot him a look, a warning in your eyes, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through you at his words. you couldn’t afford to let this get out of hand, not when your life was already so unpredictable, so full of danger. but with every passing day, it was getting harder to resist him.
later that evening, you found yourself on the ship’s bow, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the water, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. it was a rare moment of peace, and you savoured it, breathing in the salty air, your mind wandering back to jake. you couldn’t help but think about how he’d changed, how he’d adapted to life at sea, how he no longer seemed like the pampered prince who’d stumbled onto your ship. he was different now—stronger, more capable. and more dangerous to your heart.
“can i join you?”
his voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced over to see jake standing there, his eyes soft but serious.
you gave a small nod, and he came to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in that familiar way that made your pulse quicken. for a few moments, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you comfortable, yet charged with the unspoken feelings that lingered just beneath the surface.
“i’ve been thinking about what you said,” jake began, his voice low. “about why you chose this life.”
you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“i get it now,” he said, his gaze focused on the horizon. “why you need to be in control. why freedom means so much to you. i never understood it before, but now… after being here, after seeing what it’s like to live by your own rules, i do.”
you felt a flicker of something inside you—pride, maybe. or was it something more?
“i thought i had it all figured out,” he admitted, turning to look at you. “the throne, the kingdom, duty… it all seemed so clear. but being here with you, seeing this world, i don’t know if i can go back to that. not anymore.”
his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you met his gaze, searching his eyes for the truth. there was something raw there, something vulnerable that made your heart ache.
“jake…” you began, unsure of what to say, but he shook his head.
“you don’t have to say anything,” he said softly. “i just… i wanted you to know.”
for a moment, you let the silence wash over you, the sound of the waves filling the space between your words. you’d been so careful with him, so wary of letting your guard down, but every day, jake was breaking through the walls you’d built, piece by piece. and now, standing here with him under the setting sun, you weren’t sure you could hold those walls up any longer.
without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. it was a small gesture, but it felt monumental, like the beginning of something you couldn’t take back. he turned his hand over, his fingers lacing with yours, and the simple act made your chest tighten.
“i’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “not with anyone.”
your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, and for the first time, you let yourself acknowledge what had been growing between you all along.
“i don’t know where this is going,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “but… i don’t want to lose it.”
he smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “neither do i.”
the moment stretched between you, fragile but full of promise, and as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you felt something shift. this wasn’t just an adventure anymore. this was something real, something that neither of you could walk away from easily.
the days that followed were filled with a growing sense of companionship—a rhythm that had started to form between you and jake. he worked alongside you, learning the ways of the ship with more ease than you’d ever expected. he was no longer the prince you’d kidnapped for ransom; he was becoming something more, something you couldn’t quite define.
and in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you—whether it was a shared glance across the deck, a fleeting touch as you passed each other, or the way he’d sit beside you in the evening to watch the stars—you could feel the bond between you deepening, becoming something you couldn’t deny.
but with that closeness came a growing fear. you knew what you were, what your life entailed. could someone like jake truly leave behind everything he’d ever known? could you let him?
those questions weighed heavy on your mind, but for now, you pushed them aside. because in these moments, with jake by your side, nothing else seemed to matter.
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the early morning sun was barely cresting over the horizon when you called the crew to attention. the crisp sea breeze was laced with anticipation, the crew bustling with a mix of eagerness and nerves. you’d spotted a merchant vessel the day before—heavily laden, from the look of it, and poorly defended. an easy mark.
jake stood on the periphery, watching with a furrowed brow as you barked out orders, your voice carrying over the creak of the ship’s rigging.
“jungwon, take the helm. we’ll come up on their starboard side, quick and clean. no unnecessary risks.”
“aye, captain,” jungwon replied, his usual easygoing demeanour sharpened with focus. he threw a quick, reassuring grin at jake as he moved to his post. “don’t worry, pretty boy. we’ll be in and out before you know it.”
jake forced a smile, but his unease was palpable. he hadn’t quite reconciled the thrill of adventure with the reality of what you did to survive. watching you prepare for an attack, your face set in a mask of steely determination, twisted something in his chest.
the attack was swift and efficient. your crew moved like a pack of wolves, swarming the merchant vessel with practised ease. jake watched from the deck, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him.
you were at the forefront, your sword gleaming as you faced down the terrified sailors. “surrender, and no harm will come to you!” you shouted, your voice carrying over the chaos. the merchant crew hesitated, their eyes darting between you and your men, before they dropped their weapons, their faces pale with fear.
jake’s stomach twisted as he watched the exchange. this wasn’t some grand adventure. this was real, and it was brutal. his hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white. he’d never seen you like this—so fierce, so commanding. and it scared him.
your crew moved quickly, securing the cargo and transferring the goods back to your ship. jake felt sick as he watched, a deep, uncomfortable knot forming in his gut. these weren’t just nameless strangers; they were people whose lives you were upending, and you did it with the kind of ruthless efficiency that made his blood run cold.
when the last crate was loaded, you ordered your crew back to the ship, your eyes scanning the merchant sailors one last time. you caught sight of jake watching you, his face a mask of barely concealed horror. you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe? but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself that this was the life you’d chosen. the life you’d built.
back on your ship, the crew erupted into cheers as they inventoried the haul. gold, spices, fine fabrics—it was a good day’s work. but jake was silent, standing apart from the celebration, his expression closed off.
you approached him, a hint of unease curling in your stomach. “what’s wrong? i thought you’d be happy. we didn’t even have to draw blood.”
he looked at you, disbelief etched across his features. “happy? you think i’d be happy about this?”
your brows furrowed. “we got what we needed without anyone getting hurt. that’s a win in my book.”
jake let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “a win? you call this a win?” he gestured towards the merchant ship, now a shrinking speck on the horizon. “you just robbed them off everything. and you’re acting like it’s just another day.”
“it is just another day,” you shot back, irritation flaring. “this is what we do. this is how we survive.”
“survive?” his voice rose, drawing the attention of the nearby crew. “you’re a pirate, not some misunderstood hero! you kidnap people, you steal, and you’re telling me this is survival?”
your temper flared at the accusation in his tone. “what did you think this was, jake? a fairytale? you’re the one who got himself into this mess, stumbling around drunk at the port. did you think pirates were just misunderstood adventurers?”
he glared at you, his hands shaking with barely contained anger. “i didn’t have a choice! you kidnapped me, remember? i didn’t ask for any of this.”
you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “you didn’t seem to mind when you were running around the ship, trying to fit in. what, did you think this was some grand adventure for you to play at being someone else? wake up, jake. this is real. this is my life.”
his eyes flashed with something like betrayal. “i thought… i thought you were different. i thought there was more to you than this.”
you felt a sharp pang at his words, but you pushed it down, your expression hardening. “this is all there is. i’m a pirate. this is what i do. what did you expect?”
“i don’t know!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “i just… seeing you like that, taking everything from those people, it’s not what i thought you were.”
you took a step closer, your voice low and tense. “and what did you think i was, jake? some poor soul forced into this life against my will? i chose this. every bit of it. i’m not some damsel in distress waiting to be saved. i’m the captain of this ship, and i do what i have to do to keep us alive.”
he looked at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find something he’d lost. “i don’t know. i just… i thought there was something good here. something more.”
your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “maybe there is, but it’s buried under a lot of bad. and if you can’t accept that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”
his face went pale, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the words. finally, he turned on his heel and walked away, his shoulders stiff with barely suppressed anger.
you watched him go, the ache in your chest growing with every step he took. you’d known this moment would come eventually—that he’d see the darker side of your world and struggle to accept it. but seeing the disappointment in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were a stranger, was more painful than you’d expected.
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the days that followed the raid were tense, the air thick with unresolved tension. jake remained distant, his demeanour cold and closed off. he threw himself into the work, no longer seeking out your guidance or approval. it was as if he’d built a wall around himself, one that you weren’t sure how to break down.
you found yourself watching him more often than you cared to admit, hoping that somehow, some way, you could find your way back to each other. your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid. he was different now—his boyish enthusiasm had been replaced with a grim determination that made your chest tighten. he still did his part, working alongside the crew, but there was no spark in his eyes, no hint of the person who’d once looked at the world with such wonder.
jungwon, ever perceptive, noticed the shift as well. he caught your eye one evening as you stood at the helm, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the deck.
“he’s still not talking to you?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
you shook your head, your gaze fixed on jake’s distant figure. “no. he barely even looks at me.”
jungwon frowned, glancing over at the prince, who was helping tie down some loose ropes with a mechanical precision. “he’s hurt. you can see it in the way he carries himself. he’s not used to this life, and he’s struggling to find his place.”
you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i know. i just… i don’t know what to say to him. i tried explaining, but it just made things worse.”
jungwon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice gentle. “he’s not just angry about the raid. he’s angry because he feels like he doesn’t belong. and maybe… maybe he’s starting to realise that this life isn’t what he thought it would be.”
“or maybe he’s starting to realise that he doesn’t want to be here at all,” you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
jungwon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm in a gesture of comfort. “give him time. he’ll come around. he cares about you more than you think.”
you managed a small smile, grateful for his support. “thanks, jungwon.”
unbeknownst to you, jake had been watching from the shadows, his jaw clenched as he took in the easy rapport between you and jungwon. he couldn’t hear your words, but he saw the way jungwon’s hand lingered on your arm, the way your expression softened when you spoke to him.
something ugly twisted in jake’s chest, a hot, burning sensation that he couldn’t quite name. it wasn’t just anger or hurt—it was jealousy, raw and unfiltered. he hated the way jungwon looked at you, the way he seemed to understand you in a way that jake couldn’t.
jake tore his gaze away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of you and jungwon, couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing sense of inadequacy that clawed at his insides.
later that evening, as the crew gathered for dinner on the deck, jake sat apart from the others, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. you glanced over at him, your heart aching at the sight of his isolation, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between you.
instead, you turned your attention to jungwon, who was recounting a particularly wild story from your early days on the ship. he had the crew laughing, their voices mingling with the sound of the waves, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to forget about the tension that lingered between you and jake.
jake, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at jungwon—it was all too much. he felt like an outsider, like he didn’t belong here, and the realisation hurt more than he’d expected.
he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the deck. the sudden movement drew everyone’s attention, and the laughter died away as the crew turned to look at him.
“i’m going to get some air,” jake muttered, his voice tight.
he didn’t wait for a response, pushing past the crew and heading towards the bow of the ship. you watched him go, your heart sinking. you wanted to follow, to talk to him, but something held you back.
“go after him,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes understanding.
you hesitated, your gaze flicking between jungwon and jake’s retreating figure. “he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
jungwon shook his head. “he’s hurting, captain. he needs to hear it from you.”
with a deep breath, you nodded, standing up and making your way across the deck. jake was leaning against the railing, his back to you, his shoulders tense.
“jake,” you called softly, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.
he didn’t turn around. “what do you want?”
you winced at the coldness in his tone, but you pressed on. “i just… i wanted to check on you. you’ve been distant.”
he let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “distant? what did you expect, captain? you kidnap me, drag me onto this ship, and now you’re surprised that i don’t want to be here?”
your heart sank at the pain in his voice. “i know you didn’t ask for this. but i’m trying to—”
“to what?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. “to make me feel better about being a prisoner on your ship? to make me forget that you’re a pirate who steals and kills for a living?”
you flinched, the words hitting harder than you’d expected. “i never said i was perfect, jake. i told you from the beginning what this life was.”
“and i was stupid enough to believe that there was something more!” he shouted, his voice raw. “i thought i could be a part of this. i thought maybe, just maybe, i could find a place here. but all i’ve done is fool myself.”
you took a step closer, your voice trembling. “jake, please—”
he held up a hand, cutting you off. “don’t. just… don’t. i can’t keep doing this, pretending that i’m okay with everything. i’m not like you, and i never will be.”
the truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. when you finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “i know. and i’m sorry.”
he looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made your chest ache. “why, then? why did you take me?”
you hesitated, the truth hovering on the tip of your tongue. because i needed the ransom. because i thought i could use you. 
because i didn’t know i’d fall for you.
but you couldn’t say any of that, not now. not when the wounds were still so fresh.
instead, you looked away, your voice hollow. “i don’t know.”
jake shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “of course you don’t.”
he turned away, leaving you standing alone, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.
for the rest of the evening, jake kept his distance, his eyes avoiding yours. and every time he saw you with jungwon, his jealousy flared anew, the bitterness and hurt twisting inside him until he didn’t know how to feel anything else.
he hated that he cared so much, hated that he couldn’t just turn off his feelings and move on. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting to be the one who made you smile like that.
and that, more than anything, was what hurt the most.
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by the time the storm hit, the ship was already teetering on the edge of chaos. the sky had darkened to an unnatural shade of black, casting an eerie glow over the sea. you could feel the tension in the air, thick with the scent of saltwater and the low rumble of thunder in the distance. the crew moved with swift precision, tightening ropes, pulling down sails, and preparing for the onslaught.
“captain!” jungwon shouted from the helm, barely audible over the howling wind. “it’s coming in fast!”
“i see it,” you yelled back, your grip on the wheel tightening. the waves were already towering above the ship, slamming into the hull with relentless fury. the sea had turned into a churning monster, eager to consume you all.
you barked out orders, your voice cutting through the wind. “secure the cargo! bring down the main sail! everyone, brace yourselves!”
the crew scrambled to follow your commands, each member pushing their physical limits to keep the ship afloat. jake, amidst the chaos, worked alongside them, gripping onto ropes and securing what he could, his body soaked from the torrential downpour. every crack of thunder seemed to echo in his head, louder than the storm itself. but it wasn’t the storm he feared most—it was the words he'd spat out at you the day before.
he hadn’t meant to be cruel. but he was frustrated, confused, and angry at the life he’d been dragged into—kidnapped, held for ransom, now caught in a dangerous storm that could end his life. jake’s privilege had always shielded him from real danger, but now it was all crashing down.
and yet, as the storm raged around him, none of that mattered. all he could think about was the last thing he’d said to you. he had lashed out, criticising your life, your choices, the very thing you were good at. he’d pushed you away when all you had done was show him the kind of freedom he’d never known.
lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the deck in a blinding flash, and for a moment, jake lost his grip. he stumbled, caught by jungwon before a wave could sweep him away.
“focus!” jungwon snapped, his voice firm, though concern flickered in his eyes. “we need everyone working together if we’re going to survive this!”
jake nodded, shaking off the dizziness as he grabbed hold of the rigging once more. the storm was relentless, tossing the ship like a toy. but even as he fought through the wind and rain, all he could think about was you—where were you? were you safe? had you forgiven him for what he said?
the minutes dragged into hours, the storm refusing to relent. the crew battled through every wave, every gust of wind, holding the ship together by sheer force of will. you stood at the helm, drenched to the bone but unyielding. you steered the ship with a deft hand, navigating through the chaos like you had done so many times before. but even in the middle of the storm, your thoughts flickered back to jake. his words still lingered, stinging more than you cared to admit. you had grown used to resistance, to judgement, but hearing it from him—it had hit differently.
just as you thought the storm might break you, the winds began to ease. the rain slowed to a steady drizzle, and the waves, while still rough, were no longer threatening to capsize the ship. you gave a sigh of relief, wiping the water from your face, and began issuing new orders to your crew. “jungwon, check the sails. everyone else, assess the damage!”
but jake had only one thing on his mind. as the crew scattered to settle the ship, his eyes darted around the deck, looking for you. his heart pounded in his chest, panic rising when he couldn’t immediately spot you.
“where’s the captain?” he demanded, his voice frantic as he grabbed the nearest crew member by the arm. “where is she?”
“i saw her near the helm last,” the man replied, but that didn’t quell jake’s fear. he pushed past the others, slipping on the slick deck, his stomach churning not from the storm but from the thought of losing you without making things right.
“captain!” he called, voice hoarse. “captain!”
the ship creaked and groaned underfoot as jake searched every corner, every shadowed space, his heart sinking deeper with each second that passed. he cursed himself—why had he let his pride get in the way? he was stupid, reckless, and now he feared he might never get the chance to apologise.
finally, as he rounded the corner near the aft deck, he saw you. you were there with jungwon, overseeing the crew as they worked to fix the sails, your face set with focus, exhaustion evident in the lines around your eyes. relief flooded through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern as he noticed the strain in your posture.
without thinking, jake rushed toward you. his presence startled you, and you turned quickly, eyes widening at the sight of him approaching you with such urgency.
“jake?” you asked, surprised. “are you alright?”
he didn’t answer right away, his eyes trailing over your figure as if making sure you were unharmed. then you noticed the gash on his forearm, blood trickling down his skin.
“god, what happened?” you immediately stepped closer, grabbing his arm to examine the wound. “you’re hurt.”
“it’s nothing,” jake muttered, brushing it off. but he couldn’t hide the way his voice cracked, the emotion catching in his throat. “i… i was so scared i’d lost you.”
your hands paused, and you looked up at him, taken aback by the raw vulnerability in his voice. “i’m fine,” you reassured him, though your heart hammered in your chest. “i can take care of myself, jake.”
“i know,” he breathed, his voice thick with regret. “but i’ve been an idiot. i said things i didn’t mean. i didn’t realise how much i need you… until i thought i might never see you again.”
before you could respond, jake stepped closer, his hand slipping behind your neck, pulling you toward him. the tension between you snapped, and without warning, he crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. the world around you seemed to still, the aftermath of the storm disappearing as your body pressed into his. his kiss was filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the regret and longing, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervour.
when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “for everything.”
you stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure how to respond. but one thing was clear—despite everything, the bond between you was unbreakable.
with the storm finally behind you and the ship no longer being tossed like a toy in the waves, you took a deep breath. jake was still standing beside you, a stubborn presence even as you directed the crew to restore order. his earlier kiss lingered in your mind, a distraction that you couldn’t afford to indulge in just yet.
“jungwon, see to the crew. make sure the rigging is secure and check the hold for any water,” you instructed, your voice carrying across the deck.
jungwon gave you a nod, casting a brief, assessing glance at jake before turning away to rally the crew. you turned back to the prince, his forearm still marked by the cut from earlier, a thin line of blood staining the makeshift bandage.
“you’re hurt,” you stated, gesturing to his arm. he glanced down at it as if only just remembering.
“it’s nothing,” he dismissed, though his voice was softer now, lacking the earlier bravado.
“come on,” you said, leading him below deck. he followed without argument, and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence behind you, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension.
once inside your small cabin, you gestured for him to sit. the room was dimly lit, the single lantern casting long shadows on the wooden walls. you rummaged through a chest, pulling out a clean cloth and a small flask of rum. “this is going to sting a bit,” you warned.
“i’ve had worse,” he muttered, but his eyes never left you as you approached. you wet the cloth and began to clean the wound, your fingers brushing his skin lightly. despite his attempt at indifference, you saw the way his jaw tightened, his breath hitching slightly as you worked.
you tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, the way his gaze seemed to burn into you. his closeness was overwhelming, and you found your hands trembling slightly as you wrapped a bandage around his arm.
“there,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you tied off the bandage. you looked up, meaning to step back, but he caught your wrist, his touch gentle but insistent.
“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low. his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.
you nodded, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “it’s just a bandage, jake.”
“it’s more than that,” he insisted, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. “after everything i said… you didn’t have to help me.”
you shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “you’re part of my crew now. it’s my job to keep you safe.”
his lips quirked up in a small, almost sad smile. “am i really just another crew member to you?”
you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. the truth was, you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. he was supposed to be a means to an end—a captive, a ransom. but somewhere along the line, things had shifted, and now you were standing here, your heart hammering in your chest as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
“jake…” you started, but his name died on your lips as he pulled you closer. your knees bumped against his, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders instinctively. his grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding up to your waist, pulling you between his legs. you could feel the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.
“i’ve been an ass,” he admitted, his voice raw, filled with regret. “i didn’t mean what i said before.”
you swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to his lips, so close, so tempting. “you were right, though. i am a pirate, jake. this is what i do. i don’t… i don’t know how to be anything else.”
he shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re more than that. you’re… incredible.”
your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. you opened your mouth to say something, but then his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips in a feather-light caress.
“i’ve been thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “about this… since the first night.”
you couldn’t find the words to respond, your heart pounding in your ears. the air between you felt electric, every nerve in your body screaming for you to close the distance, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for weeks.
“jake, we shouldn’t—” but your protest was cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss. it was so different from the heat and passion of before, soft and searching, as if he were giving you a chance to pull away.
but you didn’t want to pull away. you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body aching for more. his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you into his lap, and you went willingly, your legs straddling his as his mouth moved against yours with growing urgency.
the kiss deepened, his tongue teasing against yours as his hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. you gasped into his mouth as he pulled you tighter against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. the cabin seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to the feel of his hands, his mouth, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.
when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face. “tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “tell me i’m not the only one.”
you could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “i… i don’t know what this is, jake. but i want it. i want you.”
his smile was pure relief, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed you again, slower this time, savouring the moment. and as you melted against him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, his neck, you knew that whatever came next, you were in this together.
the ship rocked gently beneath you, the storm outside a distant memory as you lost yourself in him, in the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands. and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved this—deserved him.
when you both finally stilled, breathless and spent, the world slowly came back into focus. you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cabin filled with the soft sounds of your breathing. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, the aftermath of what had just happened settling over you like a warm blanket.
jake’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, his forehead resting against yours. “i didn’t plan on this,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
you laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “neither did i.”
he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “but i’m glad it happened.”
your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. you nodded, your hand cupping his cheek. “me too.”
the storm outside had passed, but you knew this was just the beginning of another, one that was brewing between the two of you—a storm you were more than willing to weather.
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the first light of dawn filtered through the small cabin window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred, the warmth beside you a comforting reminder of the night before. slowly, you opened your eyes, turning your head to find jake still asleep beside you.
his hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his closed eyes, and his lips were slightly parted, a peaceful expression softening his features. in the quiet stillness of the morning, he looked almost boyish, a stark contrast to the fierce, determined prince you’d come to know. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that scared you more than you cared to admit.
you took a moment to drink him in, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes—the strong jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks. it was a rare thing to see him like this, so unguarded, so vulnerable. he’d given himself to you completely last night, in a way that went beyond just physical closeness. he’d trusted you, opened himself up in a way that left you feeling raw and exposed.
but as you watched him, the warmth in your chest began to cool, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. what were you doing? what had you done?
jake was a prince, destined for a life of duty and luxury, a world so far removed from the rough, uncertain life you led. he had responsibilities, people who depended on him. and you… you were a pirate, an outlaw with blood on your hands and a past you could never escape. what kind of future could you offer him? a life on the run, hiding from the law, facing danger at every turn?
you bit your lip, a knot forming in your stomach. no matter how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to keep him close, you couldn’t ignore the truth. jake deserved better than this. better than you. he deserved a life where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder, where he could live freely, surrounded by those who loved and respected him.
a pang of guilt shot through you as you remembered the way he’d looked at you last night, his eyes filled with something you were afraid to name. you’d seen that look before, on the faces of those who’d dared to care for you, to get too close. and every time, without fail, you’d ended up hurting them, pushing them away for their own good.
you couldn’t do that to jake. he’d already given up so much, already risked so much. he needed to go back, to the castle, to his people. even if he didn’t want to, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process, you had to let him go.
a soft sigh drew your attention back to him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze unfocused as he took in his surroundings. then his eyes found yours, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.
“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. he reached out, his fingers brushing over your cheek, and you felt your resolve waver. “didn’t think i’d ever wake up to see you looking at me like this.”
you forced a smile, your heart aching as you leaned into his touch. “you make it sound like i’m some heartless pirate.”
he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “well, you do have a reputation to uphold.”
“don’t remind me,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light even as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart. if he knew, he’d never leave, never let you push him away. and that would be the worst thing you could do—to both of you.
he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze never leaving your face. “you’re quiet this morning. something on your mind?”
you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “just… thinking about everything that’s happened. the storm, the crew… us.”
a flicker of concern crossed his face, but he quickly masked it, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “are you having second thoughts?”
“no, i—” you broke off, struggling to find the right words. how could you explain what you were feeling without giving too much away? “i just… i don’t want you to regret this. any of this.”
he frowned, his brow furrowing as he studied you. “why would i regret it?”
“because you’re not supposed to be here, jake,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “you’re a prince. you have a duty, a life back at the castle. this—us—it’s not… it’s not real.”
his grip on you tightened, his eyes darkening. “not real? after everything we’ve been through, everything i’ve felt—” he shook his head, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you say that?”
“because it’s the truth,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “you’re only here because i took you. you’re supposed to be at the castle, marrying some princess, doing what’s best for your kingdom.”
“is that what you think?” his voice was low, dangerous, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to bear. “that i’d rather be locked away in some castle, living a life that’s been decided for me?”
“it’s where you belong,” you insisted, hating the way your voice wavered, betraying the turmoil inside you. “you deserve a life of dignity, of safety. not this—”
“i don’t care about that!” he burst out, his frustration giving way to desperation. “don’t you get it? i don’t want that life. i want to be here, with you. i don’t care about the kingdom, or the title, or any of it if it means losing you.”
you closed your eyes, his words cutting through you like a knife. this was exactly what you’d been afraid of. he was willing to throw everything away for you, and you couldn’t let him do that. you had to be the strong one, had to protect him—even if it meant breaking his heart.
“jake…” you began, your voice trembling. “i don’t want you here. you’re just… a reminder of what i can never have, of the life i can never give you.”
his eyes widened, shock and hurt flashing across his face. “what are you saying?”
“i’m saying you need to leave,” you forced out, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. “you need to go back to your world and forget about me.”
he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he processed your words. “no. i won’t do it. i won’t leave you.”
“you have to,” you insisted, your heart breaking with every word. “please, jake. it’s better this way.”
“better for who?” he demanded, his voice shaking. “for you? because it sure as hell isn’t better for me.”
tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your vision blurring. “you’ll understand one day. you’ll see that i’m right.”
“no,” he said again, his voice firm. “you’re wrong. you’re wrong about everything. and i’m going to prove it to you.”
before you could respond, he stood up, turning his back on you. the door to your cabin slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence that followed, leaving you alone with your shattered resolve and the aching emptiness where he’d been.
the days passed in a blur, each one bringing you closer to the inevitable. jake, true to his word, threw himself into life on the ship, trying to prove his worth. he took on every task with determination, learning the ropes, quite literally, and working harder than you’d ever seen him work. he pushed himself, and when the crew tried to tell him he didn’t need to, he pushed harder.
you watched him, your heart breaking a little more each day. he was trying so hard, trying to show you that he belonged here, that he could be part of your world. and every time he looked at you, with that stubborn, desperate hope in his eyes, it took everything in you not to break down, not to tell him the truth.
he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that it was too late. your course was already set, the ship heading back to his kingdom. you’d made your decision, and nothing he did would change it. you’d see him safely home, even if it meant tearing your own heart out in the process.
each night, when the crew had gone to sleep and the ship sailed through the quiet, dark sea, you stood at the helm, gripping the wheel tightly, your knuckles white with the force of it. jungwon had tried to talk to you, his eyes full of worry, but you’d brushed him off. there was nothing he could say that would make this any easier.
you were doing the right thing. you had to keep telling yourself that.
the day you saw the outline of the kingdom on the horizon, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. the castle loomed in the distance, its towers stark against the morning sky. you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.
jake was below deck, sleeping in your cabin. he’d pushed himself to exhaustion the night before, working late into the night, and you knew he wouldn’t wake for hours. it was better this way. he wouldn’t fight you, wouldn’t try to stop you.
you steered the ship into the harbour, the crew working quietly, their usual banter subdued. they knew what this meant, what it would cost you, and they respected your decision, even if they didn’t fully understand it.
“captain,” jungwon said softly, coming to stand beside you. his eyes were full of unspoken questions, his expression a mixture of sadness and concern.
you nodded, your throat tight. “get him ready to disembark.”
jungwon hesitated, then sighed, turning away to do as you’d asked. you watched him go, your heart aching. this was it. there was no turning back now.
when you went down to the cabin, jake was still asleep, his face peaceful, a small frown creasing his brow. you stood in the doorway, your chest constricting painfully as you watched him. you wanted to remember him like this, wanted to etch this moment into your memory, because you knew it was the last you’d have.
carefully, you knelt beside the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. he stirred, murmuring something in his sleep, and your heart twisted. you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering for just a moment.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry, jake.”
then you stood, turning away before the tears could fall. you couldn’t let him see you like this. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart.
by the time jake woke, the ship was docked at the harbour, the kingdom spread out before him. he sat up, confusion crossing his face as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements sluggish, still groggy from sleep.
“where…?” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised where he was. “no, no, no…”
panic seized him as he stumbled to his feet, rushing to the door. he burst out onto the deck, his eyes wild as he looked around, searching for you.
you were standing near the gangplank, your back to him. jungwon was beside you, his expression tense as he spoke in low tones. jake’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the scene, dread pooling in his stomach.
“what is this?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “what’s going on?”
you turned at the sound of his voice, your face carefully blank. his heart clenched at the sight of you, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. “we’re at your kingdom,” you said, your tone calm, too calm. “you’re going home.”
“home?” he stared at you, disbelief and betrayal warring in his eyes. “i don’t—this isn’t my home!”
“it’s where you belong,” you said quietly, your gaze unwavering. “it’s where you need to be.”
“no,” he said fiercely, taking a step towards you. “no, you don’t get to decide that. you don’t get to just—just drop me off like some—”
“jake,” you interrupted, your voice soft, almost gentle. “i’m doing this for you.”
he froze, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back the anger, the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm him. “for me? you think i want this? you think i want to go back to being a prisoner in my own life?”
“you have responsibilities,” you said, your voice firm, but he could see the cracks in your composure, the way your hands trembled at your sides. “people who depend on you. a kingdom that needs you.”
“what about what i need?” he shouted, his voice breaking. “what about what i want? doesn’t that matter to you?”
you flinched, the words hitting you like a physical blow. “it does,” you whispered. “it matters more than you know.”
“then why?” he demanded, his voice desperate. “why are you doing this?”
“because i love you,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “and that’s why i have to let you go.”
jake stared at you, shock and pain etched on his face. for a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading away. then, slowly, the realisation dawned in his eyes, his expression hardening.
“no,” he said, his voice cold, distant. “no, you don’t love me. you’re just like everyone else. you’re just getting rid of me because i’m not worth the trouble.”
“jake—” you began, but he shook his head, his eyes blazing with anger.
“save it,” he snapped, turning away. “i don’t need your pity.”
you watched, helpless, as he strode down the gangplank, his back rigid, every line of his body radiating hurt and betrayal. he didn’t look back, didn’t give you a second glance as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, alone, the pain of his words cutting deeper than any blade.
you’d done what you had to, what you knew was right. but as you watched him go, your heart breaking with every step he took, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made the biggest mistake of your life.
as the ship began to pull away from the dock, the distance between you growing with every passing moment, you forced yourself to look away, to turn your back on the sight of him disappearing into the crowd. this was for the best, you told yourself. for both of you.
but the hollow ache in your chest told a different story.
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as jake stood alone in the opulent chambers of the royal palace, the silence was deafening. the familiar surroundings—grand tapestries, polished marble floors, the scent of the garden wafting in through the open windows—felt foreign, hollow even. he clenched his fists, a bitter knot tightening in his chest as the events of the last few hours played on a loop in his mind. 
you had brought him back. without a word, without a goodbye, you had returned him as if nothing had ever happened between them. had it all been a lie? 
his throat tightened with the weight of his suspicions. the thought clawed at him—maybe, just maybe, all you ever wanted was the ransom. perhaps every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every tender moment under the stars had been part of the game, just another ploy to keep him content until you could cash in on the prize. he tried to push the idea away, but it clung to him like a shadow, deepening his resentment. he felt foolish now for believing there had been something more, something real. 
the ache in his chest wasn’t just from the loss; it was from the sting of betrayal, the sinking realisation that maybe he had been nothing more than a tool, a pawn in your world of gold and greed. the woman he had begun to fall for… did you ever care for him at all? or had he been blinded by his own desires, seeing love where there was only cold calculation?
when he agreed to his father’s demands to marry the princess, he’d done it not out of duty but out of sheer numbness. if he couldn’t have the life he wanted, if you had rejected him and the world he longed for, then what was the point? it was easier to go through the motions, to let himself be swept along by the tide of duty, than to fight for something he thought was never real.
but everything changed a week before the wedding.
jungwon’s letter arrived without warning, delivered to him by a messenger under the cover of night. jake had almost dismissed it, almost crumpled it up and tossed it aside, but the familiar scrawl of the handwriting stopped him. he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the seal—your crew’s seal—for what felt like an eternity before finally opening it.
the words inside shook him to his core.
jungwon’s letter was raw, honest, describing in painstaking detail how lost you’d been without him, how you’d thrown yourself into your new venture with a desperation that worried everyone around you. you were no longer the pirate captain they’d known, but a driven, almost frantic version of yourself, working relentlessly to turn over a new leaf.
“she’s doing this for you, jake, i’ve never seen her like this. she didn’t even bother about the ransom part of the deal”, jungwon had written.
“she loves you more than you can imagine. she’s trying to make herself worthy of you, trying to give you a future she thinks you deserve. but she’s falling apart, and it’s because she believes she made the right choice by letting you go.”
jake’s hands had trembled as he read the letter over and over, his heart pounding with every word. it was as if a fog had lifted, and for the first time, he saw everything clearly. you hadn’t let him go because you didn’t love him. you’d let him go because you thought it was what was best for him. you’d sacrificed your own happiness for his sake, and it was tearing you apart.
the letter had ended with a simple plea: “come back to us, jake. she needs you more than ever.”
the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d been wrong—so terribly, heartbreakingly wrong. and he wasn’t going to lose you again.
now, he stood outside his father’s chambers, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. he took a deep breath, steeling himself, before pushing the heavy doors open and striding inside.
the king looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of his son. “jake? what is it? you should be preparing for the wedding.”
jake ignored the tightness in his chest at the mention of the wedding. “i need to talk to you.”
the king frowned. “can it not wait? there’s much to be done—”
“no, it can’t wait,” jake interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. he stepped closer, his heart racing, but his resolve unshakable. “i can’t go through with the wedding.”
silence fell over the room, thick and tense. the king’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “what are you saying, jake?”
“i’m saying i can’t marry someone i don’t love,” jake said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside him. “and i can’t stay here, pretending to be happy when i’m not.”
the king rose from his chair, his face darkening with anger. “this is not about happiness. this is about duty, about securing the future of our kingdom. you can’t just walk away because of some—some fleeting infatuation!”
“it’s not infatuation!” jake’s voice rang out, sharp and defiant. he took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “i love her. and she loves me. she let me go because she thought it was best for me, but she’s wrong. the only place i belong is with her.”
“you belong here,” the king snapped, his voice cold and unyielding. “you are the prince, and soon you will be king. you have responsibilities—”
“what good is being king if i’m miserable?” jake shot back. “what good is a throne if i have to give up everything that makes life worth living?”
the king stared at him, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. “you’re being selfish, jake. this isn’t just about you. this is about our people, our legacy. you can’t throw it all away for some pirate.”
“she’s not just some pirate,” jake said, his voice low but fierce. “she’s everything. and i won’t lose her again.”
the king’s eyes flashed with anger, but jake stood his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew he was risking everything, knew that defying his father like this could mean losing everything he’d ever known. but he didn’t care. not anymore.
“i’m asking you to let me go,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less determined. “i’ll do whatever you want, fulfil whatever duty you ask of me, but not this. not marriage. not a life without her.”
for a long moment, they stood there, father and son, locked in a silent battle of wills. then, slowly, the king’s shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming.
“you’re serious about this,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.
jake nodded, his throat tight. “i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
he sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle on his shoulders. he looked at his son, really looked at him, and saw the pain, the determination, the desperate love that burned in his eyes.
“very well,” he said finally, his voice weary. “if this is what you truly want, i won’t stand in your way.”
jake’s heart leapt in his chest, hope surging through him. “thank you, father. you don’t know what this means to me.”
the king held up a hand, his expression stern. “but understand this, jake. if you walk away now, you may never have a place here again. are you prepared for that?”
jake met his gaze, his voice steady and unwavering. “i am. because the only place i need to be is with her.”
the king sighed again, then nodded slowly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “then go, my son. and may you find the happiness you seek.”
jake didn’t wait for a second invitation. he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding with anticipation, his mind racing. he had no time to waste.
he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you back, no matter what it took.
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the sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beach as you sat on the soft, warm sand. the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a soothing backdrop to your swirling thoughts. you watched the sun dip lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson, yet your heart felt heavy with the memories of what had transpired over the past two months.
two months had passed since you left jake behind in his kingdom, believing you were making the right decision. in those weeks, you had poured yourself into your new life as a trade merchant, transforming your ship from a vessel of piracy to one of honest commerce. your crew had embraced the change, excited about the possibilities that lay ahead. the laughter and camaraderie on board had been a welcome distraction, yet every night, as you lay in your bunk, the loneliness crept in like a thief in the night.
on the surface, it looked like you were thriving. you had wealth, respect, and a steady stream of business flowing your way. but it was all a facade.
every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face. the way he’d looked at you that last night, so full of love and hope. you had thought it would get easier with time, but it hadn’t. the ache in your chest only grew, a constant, gnawing pain that no amount of success could soothe.
now that you were currently docked at his kingdom, you couldn’t help but think of him even more, your heart further clenching in pain.
sighing, you pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them as you gazed out at the sea. what had you done? you had given up the one person who made you feel alive, who saw you for who you truly were. you had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing by pushing him away, sparing him from a life filled with uncertainty and danger. but now, as you looked out at the horizon, you felt only regret. you were a businesswoman, yes, but you were also a woman in love, and it hurt like hell.
you looked out at the sea, your heart heavy. maybe it was time to let go of the past. maybe it was time to accept that you’d made your choice, and now you had to live with it, no matter how much it hurt.
but then, a voice—a familiar, beloved voice—shattered the silence.
“y/n!”
you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. you must be dreaming. it couldn’t be—
“y/n!”
your heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and hope flooding through you. you turned around, your breath catching in your throat. there he was—jake. he stood a few paces away, his hair tousled by the sea breeze, his expression a blend of determination and relief. he looked different, more rugged, yet the spark in his eyes was unmistakable.
“jake!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. he ran toward you, and in that moment, everything else faded away. the world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was him.
he reached you in an instant, pulling you into his arms with such force that you stumbled, your feet sinking into the sand. you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and warmth. “i can’t believe it’s really you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against him.
his arms tightened around you, and you felt your heart swell. “jake, i—” you started, but he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped your eyes.
“y/n, listen to me,” he said, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “i talked to my father. he finally understood. he gave me permission to leave the kingdom. i don’t want to be there without you. i want to be here, with you.”
your heart raced at his words. you had imagined this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, you were overwhelmed with emotion. “but… what about your duties? your responsibilities?”
“i don’t care about any of that!” he replied, frustration threading his voice. “all that matters is you. i’ve been miserable without you. i thought i could move on, do what was expected of me, but i can’t. i love you, y/n.”
you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. “i love you too, but i thought i was protecting you by leaving. i didn’t want to hold you back from your future.”
jake shook his head, his expression softening. “you didn’t hold me back. you set me free. i realized that the life i wanted, the life i’ve always wanted, is the one i can have with you. i’ll figure out my place in this world, but i can’t do it without you.”
his words struck a chord deep within you, igniting a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. “are you sure?” you asked, your voice trembling. “what if things get complicated again?”
“let them,” he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. “i’m done pretending. i want to build a life with you, no matter how messy it gets.”
in that moment, your heart soared. you stepped closer, and before you could think twice, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. his lips met yours, a sweet, electric connection that sent shivers down your spine. the kiss was everything you had missed—fierce, passionate, filled with the yearning that had built up between you during your time apart.
when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you savoured the warmth of the moment. “you really mean it?” you asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.
“i do,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “you’re the only one i want. forever.”
with that, he pulled you close again, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. laughter bubbled up between you as you revelled in the joy of being together once more. you felt lighter than you had in months, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.
as he set you down, jake took a step back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “so, tell me about this new life of yours. a businesswoman, huh? i’m not sure i believe that.”
you laughed, a playful glint in your eye. “i’m serious! we’re now trading goods, sailing the seas, and—”
“trading goods? with pirates?” he teased, his brow raised in mock scepticism.
“hey! we’re honest merchants now,” you protested, crossing your arms playfully. “no more piracy!”
he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”
you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “you’ll see. we’ve got a shipment heading out next week, and i want you with us.”
his expression turned serious, a hint of determination in his eyes. “i’m in. whatever it takes, i’m by your side.”
in that moment, you both knew that the past didn’t matter anymore. you were no longer defined by your choices; you were defined by your love for each other. the future stretched before you like the vast, open sea, filled with endless possibilities.
and as you stood there on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. your hearts were finally aligned, ready to sail into the horizon of your new life.
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𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr
˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
taglist: @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 @kxppachu (the rest are tagged in a reblog!)
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hungharrington · 9 months ago
Note
Your last blurb has me thinking of Steve and soft early relationship smut where it’s still fairly new and exciting and he’s just so sweet and wants to be close to you 💔💔
this is basically the premise of a little less conversation BUT it’s also such a good prompt anyways that i wanna write something goofy n domestic hehe <3 u put heartbreak emojis but i’m making this goopy sry! and actually it’s not even soft god i’m sorry MDNI this entire blog is 18+
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Steve sinks into you in one slow thrust and makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, his forehead to your collarbone.
For one very long moment, he doesn’t move.
“You… you okay?” You ask, all breathy yourself. Your cunt pulses wildly, eager for him to start moving, for some friction— but you’re worried he’s maybe hurt himself somehow. “Steve?”
“I’m good,” He hisses, voice all tight like he is very much not at all good. It blends away as a husky tone threads through his voice. “God, sorry, you just feel—“
He gives a little rock of his hips, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in and a beautiful moan pulls from his lips. He does it again, pulling out a little further and pushing himself back in to your wet, inviting cunt.
He groans again, “Oh my god, I like you so much.”
You startle a laugh, your arms around his neck sliding down so you can pull his head up a bit. Steve’s flushed and looking sheepish by the time you get him face to face. His hips haven’t stopped moving, still small, perfect thrusts in and out, driving you mad.
“Sorry,” He says again, half panting. “Not the best thing to say the first time we fuck but,” He huffs, a throaty moan slipping out in the middle of the sentence. “It’s true.”
You’re beginning to pant too, all your inhales sounding gaspy and high. Your thighs spread more instinctively, pulling them further back to your chest, letting him get in deeper.
“N-No, it’s good,” You say, smiling a bit as he focuses on your face, his lips parted and pupils blown wide. “I really like you too.”
Your words inspire another moan, particularly loud, and his hips rut into you with more fervor, a soft lewd squelching noise beginning to fill the bedroom. Steve moans shakily, peppering sloppy kisses up the side of your neck.
One hand shifts on your hip, sliding up to press your leg further out and unexpectedly, and there’s an audible pop of a joint cracking. Steve stills instantly, still inside you, as he stares down at your hip.
“Oh my god—”
“No, no, it’s fine!” You hastily interrupt, knowing what he’s thinking. You tug his gaze over to you and away from your leg, seeing the smidge of panic in his eyes. “It just cracks sometimes, you couldn’t know that, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt.”
Steve deflates rapidly, giving a relieved chuckle against your chest where he buries his face. When he speaks, his words are all muffled, “I thought I broke your hip.”
You can’t help it, you laugh a bit at that— imagining his panic at the thought. For the third time, you urge his face up and out of hiding, leaning up to nuzzle against his face.
“Quickest way to end a relationship ever,” He jokes, but you can hear the genuine worry beneath his humour.
“No, no, I’m sorry I should’ve told you,” You murmur tenderly, dropping little kisses along his cheeks and nose. His face blazes hot beneath your ardent affection. “But hey, we’re figuring it out, aren’t we? That’s part of the fun, yeah?”
You use your ankles, crossed over his tailbone, to press him into you and Steve gets the message quickly, starting up his gentle thrusts again with a grunt. The soft noises of sex resume, mixed with your combined low moans. The rhythm from before is easy to slip back into. Your cunt throbs hotly, pleasure starting to drool through your stomach.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes heavily, watching your face closely. “Part of the fun. Fuck, you’re so pretty.”
He says it so sincerely that it makes you gasp, clenching around him and eyes screwing closed for a moment. A low whine crawls out your throat.
“God, fuck you for saying that,” You say, with no heat at all. You can’t open your eyes just yet, you’ll combust if you see how handsome he looks right now.
“Yeah?” Steve huffs, sounding a little smug. Your cunt gushes at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re right. Figuring this stuff out is the fun part.”
You whine as he fucks in a little harder, the angle just right to have your gut twisting up in pleasure. Your breath is ragged and you finally open your eyes again, swallowing back another sound at the sight of Steve. Messy haired, pink cheeks, reddened lips. He looks hotter than you’ve ever seen him.
“Shut up and hold my hand,” You say— because two can play that game. It works a charm. You can feel the stutter in his hips, see the ripple on his face, hear the whimper in his throat.
Steve keens, tucking his face down into your neck again. His hand searches the sheets til it finds yours, fingers intertwining before he presses your linked hands into the mattress and ruts into your snug cunt harder and faster, deeper.
“F-Fuck,” He stammers, a moan lilting the word. “I like you so much.”
You can’t even laugh this time round because your mind is starting to melt a little at the edges— but it makes the pleasure all that much better, knowing he means it.
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cressidagrey · 4 months ago
Text
Stars all aligned - Chapter 2
Summary:
If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.
They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.
Warning:
Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, kinda depression?, isolation, Cassian is an idiot, slut-shaming?, discussion of SA
(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)
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Azriel kept showing up. 
And Zahra kept letting him in. 
She had no fucking clue what possessed her. 
And yet every time Azriel showed up at her doorstep…she let him in without protest. 
He always brought food or he cooked. Always something to eat. And he always stayed until she had consumed an entire serving in front of her. 
She should tell him to stop. She should tell him to leave her alone.
But Zahra never said a word. 
Zahra couldn’t manage that. 
It wasn’t like she had had many private conversations with Azriel before. And she did get t to see a side of him that…she never seen before. The kind, gentle side with a biting sense of humour. She could be as bitter and cutting with him as she wanted to be and he gave back just as sharply…but it never got personal. They never hurt each other.
And she got to know him. Not the spymaster, not Rhysand’s most trusted spy….but Azriel. The male. Not the Illyrian warrior, not the fae…but just him. as a person. Azriel who loved good food and good books. Azriel who smiled and who was gentle and kind…and coaxed mice back outside with never-ending patience. 
It was strange, how easy it was to talk to him. How easy and relaxed it felt to spend time with him. How natural it was that he was there. 
As if it had always been the two of them cooking together. 
She shouldn’t get too used to it. It wasn’t going to last. Zahra knew it wouldn’t. But she allowed herself to bask in it. Just for a little bit longer. 
Bask in the feeling of…having at least one person in this new life that…dare she say it? Was like a friend to her.
A friend. When was the last time she had had one of those? 
She didn’t want to think about that.
Just like she didn’t want to think about it, when Azriel started showing up earlier, reports in hand and joined her in working at the rickety old kitchen table.
Zahra worked on the ledgers, sorting through the numbers. And he sat right across from her, reading through his reports, quietly sipping his tea. 
(He had brought better tea with him.)
Zahra had thought that he would annoy her… but they were utterly content with ignoring each other for hours at a time. No need for words or unnecessary conversation. Just the comfortable silence of each other’s presence. It was oddly…pleasant. 
And somehow his presence…it lit something inside her. When she dropped off the account ledgers the next time, she made a quick detour to a cheap antique store just a few doors down.
Zahra browsed through the shelves on the inside. 
It was a tiny shop, filled up to the brim with old stuff and odd trinkets from the past. And then she found something that made her pause. 
An absolutely ugly, oversized armchair with the most horrible plaid pattern…but it looked like it was made for wings. The one chair in her kitchen worked for Azriel because the back was narrow enough to slot through the middle of his wings, while the one she preferred wouldn’t have worked in a million years…but the couch she had…that was another story. No way that couch was comfortable for him. 
But this armchair….
It was perfect, if you were willing to overlook the absolutely hideous pattern. But Zahra kind of grew to like it with each second that passed. So she pulled on her best haggling skills and bought that monstrosity. 
And then Zahra had the seething hot realisation that she needed to get it home somehow. She felt a tug at the hem of her skirt and stared down to find a tendril of shadows tugging at her.
One of Azriel’s. She just knew it.
The same shadows that liked prowling through her rooms and pruning the sad basil plant on her windowsill… She was also quite sure that they had started to oil the hinges on her door, but she hadn’t yet caught them in the act.
“You don’t to be able to bring that home for me, do you?” She asked them drily. The shadows coiled in a way that made her assume that they were laughing at her. Or at least having fun. It was honestly hard to tell. But another tendril popped into existence as if to say ‚Yes, I can do that!‘ 
A moment later, the chair had disappeared.
Zahra just hoped it actually had been Azriel’s shadows and not another bunch that liked stealing stuff. The thought that she had just given a chair away to some random shadows for free was a slightly concerning one. Oh well. Hopefully, it would arrive at her house soon enough and not at some random place. She had just paid for a pretty decent sum of money for that monstrosity after all. 
She bought other stuff too. Like actual spices, so Azriel wouldn't need to keep bringing all of that with him every time...another couple of plates...A blanket for the living room...
She didn’t even know what possessed her to do that. It was like something inside of her just…woke back up again. She had been dead in more ways than one. But Azriel was slowly coaxing her back to life. 
She felt more alive than she’d done in a long time. She could actually feel her heart beating. Her blood rushing in her veins. She could…feel again. And it was such an odd sensation. 
To her surprise, the armchair stood in the middle of her living room when Zahra arrived home.
A little shadow wrapped itself around her wrist as she gaped at the monstrosity sitting in her living room. The shadow seemed proud of itself.
"Thank you," Zara said politely and the shadow ruffled up as it preened. It was honestly kind of cute. And it was odd to see it like this. A small little bit of…personality. So different from what she’d always thought the shadows would be like. 
Then the shadow disappeared again and she was left with…the armchair. Which was now placed right in the middle of her living room.
Damn it. She forgot about how absolutely ugly it was. 
But oh well. It fit right in with some of the flaking of paint in the rest of her house...and the rotting floorboards in one corner.
At least that armchair was comfortable. She had to admit it. There was something oddly charming about that ugly old chair. 
She sighed, ignoring the chair for the moment as she organised her spices in the kitchen and then went back to work.
Azriel showed up in the evening that day, blinking twice at the chair.
“Where’d you get that eyesore?” he simply asked in greeting. 
"Antique shop," Zahra gave back drily. "And I bought it for your wings, thank you very much."
That made him blink in surprise. "For my wings?" he echoed and his eyebrows shot up.  "You bought an armchair for me?" 
There was something about the absolute surprise in his voice that made her want to laugh. "Yes, I did, Shadowsinger," she confirmed. "And just for you, I will ignore that horrendous plaid pattern that is covering every inch of that hideous thing." 
His lips curved into a smile, something like fond amusement playing in his eyes. "What a kind thing of you," he returned with equal amounts of dryness. "To give me such a wonderful eyesore to keep my wings company." 
He dropped down into the chair and she had to admit that it was perfect for his wings. They slotted through the gap in the back and seat without problem and he looked like he melted into the cushions. 
"It may be the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but it is the most comfortable too," he admitted with a sigh.
A small smirk edged up her lips. "I know," she simply said. "So you are stuck with it now. Consider it as a present for all the food that you give me." 
He snorted in amusement.
His head dropped back and he looked up at her, his hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. His wings were flared all over the back of that chair and she couldn’t help but notice how damn huge they were. 
He was big. She knew he was, of course, but it was easy to forget when she saw him next to Cassian. But Azriel was broad and muscular all on his own…and his wings flared all over her living room really emphasised it. 
And for some damn reason, she had the sudden mental image of his wings wrapped around her. The thought was absolutely ludicrous and completely inappropriate. 
She firmly squashed the mental image and instead just focused on the fact that Azriel was still looking at her through half-lidded eyes. There was an amused, almost fond smirk on his lips. 
"Where do I get paint from?" she blurted out.
That made his eyebrows raise. "Paint? Why do you need paint?" he inquired as he sat forward and his wings folded back against his body. 
"I should probably do something against the flaking-off paint around here," she admitted with a shrug.
He pursed his lips in thought. “And I assume you’ll try to do this all by yourself.” That wasn’t a question. He sounded pretty damn certain what her answer would be. 
"Have you talked to your landlord?" he asked her. "Are you allowed to do that? I mean, whoever it is is probably going to be happy that you do something...to stop this whole house from falling apart, but still.” 
She rolled her eyes at him. "You know, this house is mine," she gave back drily. "I can do whatever I want with it."
Azriel’s brows shot up at that, an amused surprise in his eyes. “You own this place?” he echoed, clearly not having expected that. 
"I won it in a game of cards," she admitted drily. "The guy I won it from inherited it and wanted to get rid of it. Nobody wants it because it's out of the way, but I like it."
Her one and only time in a tavern had left her with the house. She should probably consider that beginner’s luck. 
“You won it in a game of cards…?” he repeated again, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “Are you joking?” 
Her lips curled into a smirk. “Nope,” she said with great amusement. “Nine men's morris to be exact. The idiot lost it fair and square.” 
He was looking at her in a sort of disbelief, yet there was something like respect in his eyes. “Remind me never to play cards with you,” he said drily. 
She just shrugged. "It was just once," Zahra said with a sigh. "I went to one of the taverns...decided to get utterly wasted," she snorted. "I don't think becoming an alcoholic is for me, because I spent 3 days afterwards throwing up."
“The hangover must’ve been brutal,” Azriel commented dryly. "So you won a house in a game of cards."
She just gave a nod. “Pretty much, as ridiculous as it sounds. I do think it needs some paint though."
Azriel just snorted. "I think it needs more than paint," he said drily. "It probably needs to be demolished and built up again."
“It’s not that bad,” she protested, but even to her, that sounded weak. The place was a dump. It was a literal dump. "It has character," Zahra said, her resolve growing. "Just because it's a little broken, doesn't make it garbage," she whispered.
There was something sad in her voice and Azriel just looked at her, a certain quiet understanding in his eyes. And she cursed him inwardly, because he saw too much. 
He always saw too much. Saw through her defences and the walls that she’d built up. 
"You are right," he agreed. "It's a little bit broken. But I am sure can be fixed."
A sharp pang flared up in her chest at his words, as if that gentle acceptance and quiet understanding from him hurt. She pushed it down, refusing to examine the feeling too closely. 
"And there a few different shops in Velaris that sell...paint...and other...things to...improve a house."
"You mean to stop it from falling down onto my head?" she asked him wryly
“Exactly,” he responded with an amused smile as he folded his wings again. “And stop the drafty windows from letting in a constant, cold breeze.” 
Damn it…she had been hoping he hadn’t noticed that. But of course, he had, because he was observant. Far too observant. 
“And you know, maybe put in a proper lock at the door,” he continued drily. “And fix the leaking tap in the bathroom…”
Zahra rolled her eyes at that. “I like that dripping sound, it’s very melodic,” she said with sarcasm drizzling from her voice. 
It made him chuckle lowly. The shadows around him rippled and coiled in response to their master’s amusement.  “You have a strange concept of melodious sound, if you find dripping water to be in any way pleasing,” he told her drily. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, should I be swooning over the sound of a harp or the violin?” she rebutted with a sharp little snort. 
“Not necessarily,” Azriel replied with an amused smirk. “Any other sound would be better than that constant drip…Though I have been known to enjoy the symphony on occasion," he admitted to her. "Or even some of the taverns."
A snort of laughter left her lips at that, despite herself. “I can’t imagine you in a tavern,” she told him honestly. 
He shot her a dry look at that. “Why not?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at her. 
“It just doesn’t fit,” she gave back bluntly. “You in your leathers, standing in the middle of rowdy drunks. Just seems so odd.” 
He rolled his eyes at that. “I know how to dress down,” he rebuked her drily. “And I also know how to blend in.” 
“You’d stick out like a sore thumb, even if you wore absolutely normal clothes,” she retorted. “Your muscles betray you, Shadowsinger.” 
He huffed at that and then leaned back into the armchair, arms folded. “Now you’re just being insulting,” he groused and she snorted. 
“Oh, did your ego get bruised, Shadowsinger? How terrible,” Zahra dead-panned, making him roll his eyes again. 
"Let's just see if I bother making dessert, for you if you continue that," he groused at her. "I got all the makings of caramel pudding."
“What?! No, wait.” She leaned forward, something like panic on her face. “You cannot dangle that in front of me and then not give in! I even bought you an armchair!" she told him, making him snort.
“It’s a hideous armchair,” he pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “You really think it’s a gift?” 
“Hey! You agreed that it was comfortable,” she protested. “And you can’t deny that your wings like it too.” 
He snorted as he stood up and walked into her kitchen.
She did get caramel pudding in the end. Of course, she did. Even Azriel wasn’t immune to some good old puppy eyes. 
***
Zahra bought him a chair. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge. 
The fact that she had thought of him enough to buy one for him…it was something he was still trying to process in his mind. 
With the idea that she had spent her own money not on something to make herself uncomfortable...with the fact that her own bed was a mattress on the floor...but she had made sure that the next major piece of furniture she bought hadn't been a proper bed...but instead an armchair for him.
The fact that she had deliberately put his comfort above her own…yeah, he still didn’t know what to do with that information. 
He also didn't know what to do with the information that he actually...he actually really liked her.
Maybe it had been there since the beginning and he just hadn’t noticed it. But the more time he spent with her, more she made him laugh or argue or just…talk. The more he started to like her and appreciate her company. 
She was quick-witted and smart...and so quick to bloom if anybody paid her any attention. And when it was just the two of them at her house...well, then it was...it was so easy. So comfortable.
He forgot to remember to make sure to not give her any reason to be scared of him because she never was. She didn't even blink twice if he came home with the carcass of a deer slung over his shoulder, only cleaned off the table so that she could help strip it.
She asked questions about what he was doing and genuinely seemed interested. Never judged or looked at him weirdly, because she just seemed to get it. Just took him being the spymaster in stride, because that was who he was. Accepted it almost like she accepted his shadows.
He didn't think he would even need to hide the blood that coated his hands, because Zahra didn't seem to care one way or another.
She didn’t even ask him where he had been during the day or what he did. She just accepted the blood and dirt that came with it. 
And quite frankly…if he did his work at her dining table or locked into his room at the House of Wind…who cared?
That dilapidated cottage at least had better company than his own brooding one.
And it never felt felt he was intruding on Zahra when she used him as free labour for whatever redecorating she was doing that day.
They replaced the floorboards…he helped paint the door…
In fact, he was willingly going to her house every night, like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. It probably wasn’t, but he didn’t care. Every evening, when Azriel was done with his duties, he simply dropped into her house. 
They cooked together. Illyrian recipes that he knew…then some that he didn’t know that he had asked his mother for, who had answered into a sprawling letter…recipes that Zahra knew from her human years…and then he brought a cookbook from the library in the House Of Wind and they did that too.
The one thing the two of them did agree on though, was that no dinner was complete without dessert.
They both had a horrible sweet tooth.
Unspokenly, Zahra was the one who lit the fire of the fireplace and the oven…who put food in the oven and pulled it out again.
Zahra didn’t say a word about it. She just did it.
He didn’t even think about who was doing what if he was being honest. He just enjoyed having a shared dinner and the easy conversations that were taking place. It became as routine as breathing, just being in her house and spending the evening with her. 
He tended to linger too. Kept staying with her. So that he doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind, try and fail to sleep and listen to Cassian’s and Nesta's enthusiastic lovemaking.
That was why he stayed. He really needed to avoid the lovebirds at all costs, because they were…just too damn loud. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn annoying. 
“If you want and ruin your back on my couch, be my guest,” Zahra said one evening and he froze, staring at her.
She had gained some weight. It looked good on her. No longer a back of skin and bones as she had been, but her cheeks were fuller, Her clothing filled out more.
His gaze briefly flicked up to the couch and the frown on his face grew. “Honestly, that thing is probably the worst place to sleep,” he muttered. “But…I think I prefer it over listening to my brother and his mate going at it.” 
“Nice,” Zahra said with a snort, seemingly unbothered by the comment. “Seems like they know what it means to respect your need for sleep.”
Azriel snorted at that too. “Not quite,” he retorted with dry amusement. “They just don’t care.” It was the damn truth. Cassian and Nesta didn’t even bother putting up any kind of noise-mutting spell to spare his already poor sleep. 
Still…if he stayed there…” Aren’t you worried that I…” he trailed off.
“What? Ravish me?” Zahra drawled. “You had every chance at it for weeks and you haven’t touched me. So no, not really, Azriel.”
“I simply don't want to overstep my boundaries,” he found himself saying quietly. "I wouldn’t force myself on you," he continued with a quiet severity in his voice. "Not ever." I am not a brute," he added firmly. 
“Oh trust me, I don’t think you're a brute,” Zahra told him dryly. “If you wanted to force yourself on me, then you would have done it weeks ago.” 
He nearly flinched at the matter-of-fact way she said that. 
“I would never do that,” he choked out. 
“You are a good man,” Zara said quietly.
Something in his chest flared at that. A mix of shame and guilt, because he was so far away from being a good man. “I don’t want to give you any reason to fear me,” he said quietly, the words tumbling out of him before he could even stop them. 
Her expression softened at that and he held his breath. His shadows coiled, as if they were holding their inhale as well, waiting for her response. 
“It’s funny…” she began quietly and he had to forcibly keep himself from leaning in. “You have never given me a reason. Never.” He blinked at that, a small sense of surprise flaring up in his chest. 
“I…have never once been scared of you,” she told him bluntly and he stared at her incredulously. Because how could she ever say that? How could anyone not be scared of the spymaster of the Night Court? The male who was rumoured to be the spawn of nightmares and death? 
“Don’t look so surprised,” she deadpanned at the sight of his undoubtedly shocked face. “Honestly, you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.” 
“I am not a softie,” he protested with a sharp frown on his face. “I am a literal Shadowsinger. I am anything but soft.” He told her firmly. 
“Sure…” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, clearly not believing a word he said. “You are a terrifying man for sure, Shadowsinger.” He bristled at her cheeky tone. “That’s why you come over here every night and feed me.”
“I-” he paused, not knowing what to rebut with that statement. It was true. He came over every, single night to share dinner with her, to…just spend time with her. 
Zahra just laughed, patting his cheek and then disappeared into her bedroom. “Good Night!”
Azriel let out a long breath and just shook his head at her retreating back. Sometimes he had no idea what to do with her.
But he also couldn’t resist the smile that tugged on his lips and he moved over to the couch, curling up on it and trying to make himself comfortable as much as possible. 
Even when it was a far cry from a massive bed in the House of Wind…it was the best night of sleep he had in ages.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he fell asleep fairly quickly. And even his shadows seemed to rest easy, coiling around his body and the couch like a cocoon. 
And for the first time in a long time, his dreams weren’t plagued by nightmares. 
He was awake before dawn, stocking up the fireplace and moving silently across the cottage so that Zahra could still sleep a few hours.
And then he winnowed to the House of Wind for a quick breakfast. He was out there preparing the training rings before anybody else.
It also meant that the shadows were happily trembling around him.
Which was good, because he still had a question to ask them.
“How high are the chances that you cheated at cards so that Zahra would get that house?” He asked the shadows drily.
There was a tendril of shadows assigned to each family member. Only so that Azriel would know where they were at every given moment. He never asked the shadows for more, he respected everybody’s privacy as well as he could…but…But this hadn’t let him go for weeks.
No answer.
He hadn’t expected one.
“Of course,” he said with a sigh. “You like her.” It wasn’t a question.
We do! The shadows answered brightly. She treats Master well!
His lips curled up into a slight smirk at that. They were right. She did treat him well. She never treated him like an intimidating male…she just treated him like any other person. With respect. With kindness. 
Teasing him.
He chuckled to himself at the memories of her teasing him, the way they bickered as if that was the most usual thing in the world. 
She isn’t scared of us like the other ones, the shadows whispered softly.
It was clear who they meant with that comment. Elain and Mor both. Zahra seemed to find the shadows more fascinating than anything. Talking to them even sometimes. In response, the shadows doted on her. Happy for once not to be ignored and outright feared.
He hummed his agreement at that. She wasn't scared of them…and they were growing quite fond of her. Which…he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. 
She’s pretty too, Master, the shadows commented quietly.
Azriel paused in his work at those words. Yes, she was pretty. With her tawny skin and dark brown hair…and green eyes….Her skin seemed to bloom with health. The way her body had filled out, her hips gaining more curves, her face getting softer. 
Though it did surprise him that the shadows made that comment. They had never done something similar about any other female…even females he had bedded.
That was certainly a surprise. He had to pause and think about it for a few moments. The shadows had never made any sort of comment like that on another female. On any female in fact. Yet they thought her pretty. That…was a thought he filed away for later. 
She doesn’t have a mate either…she’s free of…romantic entanglements, the shadows continued quietly. If you wanted her….
He froze at that. “Are you trying to convince me to pursue her?” He spoke out loud to the shadows. 
You like her. She would make you happy, the shadows responded. What’s the harm? 
“There is no harm,” he mumbled to them quietly, his fingers curling tighter around the handle of the spear that he was holding. “Nothing except that she would likely not be interested.” 
And he was done with that. Done with being turned down. Done with never being a choice.
If he just stayed her friend…he got to spend time with her…he got to listen to her laughs and giggles. He got to be treated by her with kindness and respect. Why destroy that?
It would be cruel and selfish to ruin the friendship he had gained by trying to turn that into anything else. She trusted him. She treated him like a person. And he wanted to keep it like that. 
And Zahra deserved better than him still being half hung up over Elain. Her sister.
Though to be quite honest…he had let that go. Elain had chosen Lucien and that was that. Azriel was more pissed off about how Rhysand was treating him than anything.
Though he never showed it, he was quietly furious at how Rhysand was treating him. After he had agreed to back off…he had hoped Rhysand would stop acting like an overprotective mother hen. 
He didn't.
And then Mor's Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped and apparently that meant that Rhys was now waiting for Azriel to have a meltdown.
Which he wasn't going to have, thank you very much.
He could think that how Mor had treated him had been utterly unfair...and he could still wish her nothing but the best.
The only thing that he had wished for had been a single conversation with his friend. But she didn't seem to want to have that and so Azriel hadn't pushed. Maybe it was better that way.
It was better that way, he was sure of that. The…closeness they had once shared was gone. Maybe forever. But he was more or less alright with that.
They could all leave him in peace and he would do the same for them.
He made that calculation without Cassian, who came bounding into the training ring with all the energy that Azriel was never quite sure where his brother got it from.
He had barely even put down his spear that Cassian bounded into the training rings, his face split into a broad grin. It was clear that his…morning activities with Nesta had been enjoyable as usual. 
“There you are,” Cassian said with a boisterous grin, clearly not noticing the rather sour mood that Azriel was in. “You look....surprisingly well rested," Cassian said, cocking his head to the side.
“I slept well,” Azriel answered simply, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his brother. He knew damn well what Cassian was going to be asking. 
“You slept well,” Cassian repeated, drawing out every word and making it clear that he was not going to let that go. “Care to specify where?” He asked point blank and Azriel’s jaw tensed. 
Azriel could not suppress the low growl that came from him at that. He was not in the mood to be teased by his brother. And he was also not in the mood to listen to another innuendo-filled conversation about Cassian and Nesta’s sex life. 
“Not one word about that,” he told his brother firmly and Cassian just laughed. 
“Oh come one.” He drawled. “I have to get my fun somewhere. Everyone else is mated already. I have to bother someone!” 
It wasn't supposed to hurt him. He didn't think so. But it still did. It cut. Sharp and deep.
The words cut deep, much deeper than Azriel would have wanted to admit. His jaw tensed and his hand clenched around the spear so hard that it might have creaked. He knew it was a joke…but it didn’t change the fact that it had stung. 
And Cassian didn't seem to notice that at all. "Come on, give me details!"
“There are no details to be given,” Azriel said simply, his voice carefully neutral. “Just because I am not spending the night and listening to the two of you going at it like rabbits, does not mean I have someone in my bedroom.” The words were harsher than he had intended. 
“Don’t tell me you do it in some grimy back alley with a random wench?” His brother teased him and Azriel’s temper flared. The Shadows curled and snarled around him, his temper snapping. 
“I would thank you for not speaking about females that way, and no I am not ‘doing it in a back alley’”, he retorted with a low growl in his voice.  “You should stop talking before you piss me off,” he warned his brother through gritted teeth.  It took all his willpower to make sure that no shadows lashed out. This was Cassian. His brother. 
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Cassian raised his hands, clearly seeing how his words had affected his brother. “I was only teasing. You can be so damn tense about some things. You need to relax,” he said and Azriel had to resist the very real urge to throttle him. 
519 notes · View notes
wheeboo · 4 months ago
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pulse points | wen junhui
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SYNOPSIS. Being the TA for your anatomy class has always been really rewarding, especially stemming in your passion for the medical field. But as it’s approaching the peak of the school semester and labs have gotten more intense, you aren’t surprised to be dedicating your time to tutoring your strangely handsome, dorky, yet enigmatic classmate during after school hours — and reassuring him how to not be afraid of dissections. PAIRING. wen junhui x TA!reader (ft. performance unit as jun's roommates + mentions of wonwoo and jihoon) GENRE. fluff, classmates to lovers, humour WARNINGS/TAGS. unrealistic TA x student dynamics lmao, lots of medical sciency-anatomy talk, talks about dissections n cutting into things (they dissect a sheep brain), mentions of tools used for dissections, yn is wayyy too studious its a bit unhealthy perhaps, their love language is napping together n sharing food :(, alcohol and drinking (yn gets drunk 😣), they flirt in the middle of a damn dissection AHHAHA WORD COUNT. 15.9k
notes: this is my fic for the "back to school" collab hosted by @camandemstudios! i hope u all enjoy <3 was lowkey hating this fic as i wrote it but... i think it turned out fine?!?! thank you to all my moots, specifically @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk and the collab discord server for either helping me w ideas n brainrot or reading over the fic!! love u all to the stars and back <3
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Three dollars is not enough for Jun to buy himself lunch. 
He could probably snag himself a stale, English muffin from the dining hall, but then he’d be walking around campus with a dry tongue until after his classes end. And unsurprisingly, he forgot his water bottle back in his apartment. Briefly, he considers texting Soonyoung or Minghao to perhaps drop by the apartment and grab his water bottle or even a quick snack that’ll last him, but the two of them were already knee deep enough of responsibilities of their own. 
Fucking capitalism. 
He’s already out of breath speed walking all the way from across campus and through four different hallways. The large windows of the science building bring in the natural sunlight at the peak of the afternoon, allowing it to cascade across the polished floors and right to the ends of his feet with every step that he takes. 
Jun purses his lips together tightly as he rounds one last corner before arriving in front of his current class: Anatomy. The quick glance at the time displayed on his phone shows that he’s around eight minutes late, which is way better than the fifteen minutes from last week. His shoulders slouch slightly with a bit of dread as he reaches for the doorknob and pulls it open.
Compared to the beginning of the year, there’s more empty seats in the lecture hall now. Honestly, Jun is surprised he hasn’t dropped out of the class yet, because his grade in all honesty isn’t… the best, to put it simply𑁋he’s passing, somehow, but just barely.
But he simply can’t afford to drop it and take on a new class like a snap of a finger, and he knows that if he bails now, he’ll only be prolonging his graduation date, a situation neither his parents nor his bank account would be happy about. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this class in the first place, but his horrible procrastination habits and the fact that the other classes he wanted filled up so quickly left him with no other choice.
Jun sits down in a seat near the back of the class, trying to blend in and hoping the professor won’t notice his tardiness. He swiftly pulls out his notebook and laptop and redirects his focus to the front of the classroom, where he sees Professor Lee already lecturing something about vascular anatomy and blood circulation, motioning towards the slideshow displayed on the screen. 
“…the brachiocephalic trunk branches off the aortic arch, which divides into the right subclavian artery and the right common carotid artery. These arteries supply blood to the arm and the brain, respectively…”
The words seem to flow through his brain like water. Even when he jots them down in his notes for him to study later, he reads the words like hieroglyphics. Perhaps it’s the hunger getting to him or just the mounting stress, but the lecture feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.
By the time Professor Lee finishes with the lecture, he has five pages of notes that feel like a jumble of terms and diagrams.
However, just as he thought he might finally catch a break, the slideshow switches to the next slide. 
“Now, let’s discuss the final major lab that will be crucial for your grades,” Professor Lee explains, a determined look on his face. “Your dissections that you will be finishing the year off with. I’m letting you all know about these in advance so you would have plenty of time to prepare.”
Jun’s stomach drops. Dissections. Of course, he knew it was coming, as it was quite literally listed in eye-catching bold letters in the syllabus at the beginning of the term. Yet the thought of cutting into anything and seeing its insides makes him almost squeamish. 
“This will account for a significant portion of your final grade. I can’t stress enough how important it is to take this seriously. Remember that dissections aren’t just about retaining names and locations in the body. They’re about seeing the relationships between different structures and understanding how they function together in real life.”
Every fibre of his being is aching for him to raise his hand and stupidly refute. He imagines what he’d say𑁋“I’m not good with blood,” or “Is there another activity I could do because I’m absolutely scared shitless?”𑁋but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he slouches further in his seat, hoping to disappear. He weighs all of his options, but they’re all equally unappealing: he can’t drop the class, he can’t afford to fail, and he certainly can’t magically become proficient at dissections overnight.
“Since the class has an uneven amount of students and the limited amount of specimens we have, I’ve decided to pair you all up. Y/N, may you hand out the partner lists?”
Jun feels himself tense in his seat as his eyes scan the room and land on you. Not only are you the TA of the class, but your seemingly calm demeanour as you drift throughout the room handing each student paperwork makes you appear almost intimidating to his eyes. 
When you finally reach him, he swears he catches a glimpse of a slight curl to your lips as you silently hand him the slip of paper that contains his partner assignment, before walking down to the next person. 
At first, the paper essentially states the same information that was discussed earlier: the dissection assignment, guidelines, and a list of required materials. But then his gaze falls to the part that matters most: his partner's name.
Y/N L/N, it reads. You’re his partner. Shit.
Your calm, composed attitude and role as the TA have already set a high bar for expectations in his mind. You’re probably going to be hyperanalysing and dissecting every aspect of his class performance, knowing his poor little heart wouldn’t be able to handle all that. You probably already have this tarnished reputation of him in your mind, with his frequent tardiness and the amount of times he’s dozed off in class.
Jun glances around the lecture hall, noticing other students exchanging whispers and glances at their own partner assignments. Some seem relieved, while others look as apprehensive as he feels. His stomach churns with the thought of having to work closely with you.
Professor Lee clears his throat and speaks, “Now that you all know your partners, I request that you all sit next to each other. These will be your seats starting from today and until the lab finishes. I also strongly encourage you all to exchange contact information with each other. Your collaboration together will be vital to your success in this lab.”
As the students shuffle around, Jun finds himself stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, watching as everyone pairs up and settles into their new seats, naturally exchanging contact information with one another. Then he shuffles for his backpack that was leaning against his chair in order to go find where you sit, but as he’s about to stand up, he’s met with you taking a seat right next to him.
Your eyes meet. A faint smile crosses your features. His backpack slips off his shoulders and falls to the floor with a dramatic thump.
“Hi,” You greet him softly, before offering a hand to him. “Granola bar? Had an extra one.”
Jun just blinks, eyes flickering between your face and the hand you have extended out to him. Then he awkwardly clears his throat, tentatively reaching out to grab the granola bar from your grasp, and the warmth emitting from your hand seems to crawl up his neck. 
“Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly, shifting his gaze away to hide a small upturn to the corners of his lips. 
The rest of class passes by in a blur, mainly with Professor Lee going over proper attire to wear and safety protocols for the dissection labs. And when the clock strikes dismissal time, students begin to filter out of the lecture hall, chatting amongst themselves as Jun struggles to stuff his laptop inside his backpack. 
You’re already gone to the front to talk to Professor Lee when Jun looks over. He watches as you hand in what looks like a stack of paper, only to be given another one right back, probably of assignments that the class has done lately. The air of professionalism that surrounds you is quite admirable, he would say. 
You seem to exchange a few more words with Professor Lee before turning on your heel to leave the lecture hall, the stack of papers neatly held under your arm.
By the time Jun is already on his way to his next class, he pulls the granola bar that you had given him out from the pocket of his jeans, unwrapping it and taking a bite out of it, savouring the moment as it relieves his nerves and gnawing hunger. 
Then by the time finishes his last class for the day, reality hits him the second he steps out of the building. Figuratively, and maybe even literally, at this point. 
He forgot to get your number for this lab.
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The click of your pen echoes throughout the vast lecture hall. Unintelligible mutters leave your lips as your eyes quickly scan over the papers in front of you with ease. Among the many tasks you have assigned as TA, grading assignments is one of them, and you find yourself marking and correcting each paper just as you’ve done many times before. 
There used to be rumours floating around that your grading style was particularly strict, even more so than Professor Lee. Though it was probably spread around with the intention to intimidate other students and establish your reputation as someone annoyingly meticulous, you hardly let it get to you. 
The truth is, you were fair in your grading, but thorough. You didn’t see the point in letting half-baked work slide, especially when you knew these assignments could determine someone’s future. Medicine has been your passion for as long as you could remember, and that dedication extended into almost everything you did. Being the TA for the class was just one factor of it. 
It’s much, much quieter after school hours when most classes have finished for the day, and it’s natural to bask in the peacefulness that drifts throughout the barren room. You sort out the papers in front of you in a neat stack before taking a moment to stretch your arms up above your head, a soft sigh leaving you at the tension dissipating away from your limbs. 
As you begin to shuffle through all the papers in front of you𑁋separating them into piles of graded assignments and unfinished ones that you’ll save for later on𑁋there’s a quiet knock at the door that makes you pause in place. You turn your head towards the door, anticipating for someone to come in. 
Then another knock.
You swear you see some sort of shadow in the door window. It appears then disappears, and you  roll your eyes, thinking it was just someone who was lost or purposely going around knocking on each door (which has happened way more than one could expect). 
The shadow appears again, and this time, you decide on heading to the door yourself. And as you twist the doorknob and pull the door open simultaneously, you find yourself coming face-to-face with Jun, who looks a bit sheepish as he’s caught mid-knock. His eyes widen upon seeing you right in front of him, and he brings his hand down to his side. 
You blink up at him, not expecting for him to be here at this moment of the day.
“Junhui?” 
It’s at this point of his life that Jun realises he really isn’t used to people calling him by his proper first name. But the way you say it is different𑁋soft and warm, like an unexpected compliment.
“Uh, hi,” he greets a tad bit awkwardly, mentally slapping himself in the face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 
“Oh, no, you’re not. Don’t worry,” You tell him reassuringly, catching the way his eyes seem to flicker everywhere but on you. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 
Jun fidgets slightly, his gaze bouncing between the floor and your face. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Actually, I... um, forgot to get your number earlier today. For… for the lab, I mean. Professor Lee said we should exchange information so I thought I would ask. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. “Ah, I see. No problem. I’m glad you came by to get it. Here, let me just𑁋”
You shove into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.
You shove a hand into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.
“Here, you can come in. Let me just get my phone real quick.” You step to the side and open the door wider for him.
Jun visibly hesitates in the doorway, before muttering a quiet thank you and stepping inside the lecture hall. It’s certainly a sight to see the room so stripped of other students besides you and him, the sounds of his footsteps bouncing off the walls. He takes in the stacks of papers that you have spread across your desk, and he feels some nerves snake their way up his spine at the thought of you grading his work.
“Wow, that looks like a lot,” he comments gingerly. 
“Yeah, it’s quite the pile, right?” You agree with a light chuckle as you grab your phone and unlock it. “Always happens near the end of the sem.” 
Jun’s eyes wash over you with a look of concern. “That seems… stressful.”
You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it keeps me busy.” 
“Well, you should get some good rest after this then,” he remarks coolly. 
“Wish I could, but I have some tutoring scheduled in about half an hour,” You say, tone warm but tinged with a hint of weariness as you glance at the time on your phone. “One of the students in the intro biology class needs help with some of the basics before their midterm. So… rest will have to wait.”
From that, Jun shifts awkwardly, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. His brain races as he considers his options. You’re clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, not to mention you seem approachable, but the thought of admitting how much he’s struggling makes his throat dry, plus the guilt of adding more to your busy plate. 
“Tutoring, huh?” Jun finally says, trying to sound casual. “Is that… something you do a lot?”
You nod, tapping away on your phone as you pull up your contact information. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice to help people out. Keeps me up with the material too. Usually I’m free most days at any time after classes.”
Jun continues to gaze at you wonderingly until after you pick up your head to look at him, to which he faces away immediately. He scratches the back of his neck bashfully, before fixing his posture and clearing his throat.
“Do you… have room for one more student?” Then he feels the immediate regret afterwards. “It’s okay if not. I know that you’re busy and all that𑁋”
“Junhui,” You interrupt gently, a calm smile on your face. “I have room. Don’t worry about it.
He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, the reassuring warmth on your face easing the knots in his stomach. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“I’d be more than happy to find a time that works for us both. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll figure a time out. We’re lab partners, after all,” You say gleefully. “Speaking of which, you can put your number in here.”
You extend an arm with your phone in-hand. Jun takes the phone from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment, and types in his phone number and information. When he hands the phone back, he looks up to meet your eyes, trying to muster a more confident expression.
“Thank you so much, really, I…” His voice trails off for a moment, trying to regain his words. “I’ll owe you one for this, truly.” 
“There’s no need.”
Jun shakes his head. “Seriously, I’ll feel bad.”
You bite at your bottom lip in thought, an endearing look washing over your features as you consider his insistence. The pleading in his eyes is hard to ignore, and it makes your heart soften in your chest. You take a moment to think before offering a small, playful grin.
“Alright.” You cross your arms together. “We’ll see.” 
Perhaps… you aren’t as intimidating as he thinks.
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Jun is staring at a sheep brain. 
Not a real one𑁋a picture of one, specifically. It’s apparently very similar to the human brain, and the specimen he’s expected to dissect for the upcoming lab. 
He stares at the image displayed on the large screen right before his eyes, feeling a strange mix of fascination and dread. The detailed structures and labels are overwhelming, each word swimming in and out of focus as he tries to absorb the information. It's not that he isn't interested𑁋on the contrary, there's a part of him that's genuinely curious about how it all works, and the other part of him is utterly disturbed. 
You’re sitting next to him again, just like everyone else is sitting next to their partners, taking notes and even drawing a very rushed outline of the brain on your paper. 
“We have to dissect that…?” Jun whispers under his breath, as if speaking any louder might bring the brain to life. 
“Yep,” You reply, glancing over at Jun. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Jun attempts to stifle a groan, eyes going between the image on the screen and down to his near-empty notes. He can’t help but wonder how on earth he’s going to get through this without completely embarrassing himself.
Letting your eyes roam over Jun for a moment, the visible discomfort in the way he crosses his arms together and the furrow in his brow doesn’t escape your notice. Casually, you scoot your chair towards him a little bit, along with your notebook so that it’s settled in the space between the two of you with the outline of the brain clearly visible on the page. Your shoulder almost brushes against his. 
“Here,” You say softly, tapping your pen on the page. “I’ve got the main structures labeled already. You can add them to your notes if you want. I can explain it to you in more detail when you come to tutoring tomorrow?”
Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow is the day you both were free and decided it was the day where Jun could stop by after classes end to have his first tutoring session with you. 
“Yeah, uh, that would be great,” Jun responds quietly, peeking over at how neat and organised your notes appeared to be. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” You nod, before soundlessly shuffling inside your bag and extending it out to Jun. “Granola bar?” 
Jun glances at the granola bar being offered by you, its wrapper crinkling slightly as you hold it out to him. He smiles, a little lopsided but genuine, and takes the bar from you. The hesitation in his shoulders has deflated slightly than from the first time you proposed one to him. 
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
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“Bro, are you going out on a date or what? You’re stinking up a storm here.” Soonyoung lets out a few dramatic coughs at the sudden sharp scent of Minghao’s perfume hitting his nose, followed by Chan behind him nearly gagging at the smell. Though obviously one would expect for the owner himself to be the one using it, he certainly didn’t expect for the culprit to be none other than Jun.
Okay, yes, he may have accidentally sprayed a shit ton of Minghao’s perfume on himself, which was a bit of an overkill. But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight after waking up from a nap between deciding to take a really quick shower or stealing his roommate’s expensive perfume. 
“You think this is too much?” Jun asks unsurely. 
Beside him, Chan rolls his eyes while clutching a bowl of ramen. “You smell like you’re trying to cover up a crime scene. It might suffocate someone. Where are you even going anyway?”
Jun clears his throat. “Tutoring𑁋”
“Tutoring?!” Soonyoung exclaims in surprise. “For which class?”
“Anatomy𑁋”
“Hell no,” Soonyoung crinkles his nose at the mention of anatomy. “You're telling me you’re getting all dolled up for a tutoring session on dissecting brains and guts? Are you trying to seduce the organs or something?” 
Jun groans at his roommate’s words, shaking his head. But before he can say anything in response, Chan seems to beat him to it.
“Don’t you have this really strict TA in your class too? I’ve heard that they don’t even offer partial credit or crack a smile during lectures. Like, they’re just a machine, dude,” the youngest adds in.
It’s quite literally insane to hear that kind of description about you leave Chan’s mouth when all of his interactions with you have been nothing but short and sweet, to put it simply. Though he won’t deny he’s heard all those rumours spread around about you𑁋that you’re strict, and perhaps a bit intimidating. He’s had his fair share of moments where he felt overwhelmed by your grading and meticulous nature. Yet from what he’s seen of you so far, you’re passionate, friendly if anything, and your smile is… cute. 
Jun only shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, they’re in my class, but I’m just trying to get my grade up before the year ends. I think I can handle them.” 
Soonyoung huffs a breath, stepping up to Jun and giving him some sort of comforting pat on the back, almost like he feels bad for him. 
“Well, good luck, dude,” he reassures him, though it hardly eases Jun’s nerves at all. “Don’t get crucified in there.” 
As Jun wanders down the familiar hallway to the classroom, he finds his thoughts beginning to second-guess everything. What if he ultimately fails meeting your expectation at the end of the session? What if he struggles to fully grasp the material and ends up looking like an absolute fool in front of you by the time the real dissections roll around? 
However, those thoughts are pushed away when the door to the classroom swings open before he has the opportunity to knock, with you standing on the other side. Your face seems to light up at the sight of him, and it makes Jun briefly think about what Soonyoung said earlier about you. Like… was he talking about the same person?
“Hey, you made it,” You greet him, stepping aside so he could walk in. “Let me just finish organising some things and we can start.” 
Jun’s eyelashes bat together in curiosity as he watches you rummage through some papers, before deciding it's worth sitting down to wait for you. He places himself down an empty desk, fishing out his notebook and laptop and whatever he may need, though he doesn’t really know. By the time you’re making your way over to him, you set your stuff right next to his. 
“Okay.” You let out a relieved breath, peering at him. “Where do you want to start?” 
Oh, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet.
“Uh,” Jun stammers, fumbling for a moment, his mind suddenly drawing blanks. He quickly opens his notebook to the page where he had jotted down some half-baked notes during class and is staring back at him like a puzzle missing half its pieces. “Maybe… maybe we can start with what we’re going over in class right now? And just go down from there?”
“We can do that,” You agree without hesitation, leaning in more so that you were able to see his notes. Jun draws himself slightly back. “So, as you know, we’re going to have to be familiar with the parts and functions of the brain since it’s also part of the dissections. What I like to do is break it down into smaller sections and tackle each one individually. It might make the whole thing less overwhelming.”
Jun just nods, appreciating the way you’re making things more approachable. 
You grab a blank sheet of paper and draw a quick, simple outline of the brain, labeling the major parts with clear, concise notes. “Let’s go over the basics𑁋the cerebrum, cerebellum, and brainstem. These are the main regions we need to understand before diving into all the nitty-gritty details. Is that okay?”
He nods again, moving back slightly closer so he can see what you’re drawing. 
“The cerebrum is the largest part of the brain and is responsible for higher brain functions like thinking, reasoning, and sensory processing,” You continue, pointing to the relevant part of your drawing. “It’s divided into the left and right hemispheres, and each one controls the opposite side of the body.”
Jun watches as you explain, occasionally nodding to show he’s following along. There’s something calming about the way you speak𑁋gentle, but confident, filled with poise. He tries to shake off the thought, reminding himself that he’s here to study, not to admire the way your eyes light up when you speak so passionately about a topic as ridiculous and complex as the damn brain. 
You’re so different from what people say. There’s no sign of the strict, no-nonsense TA everyone talks about. 
“...and that’s why the frontal lobe is so important for decision-making and problem-solving. I like comparing it to, let’s say, a CEO,” You explain. “It’s where a lot of our executive functions happen. Think of it as the brain’s ‘boss’ making the big decisions and planning.”
Jun blinks for a moment, snapping back to attention, quickly jotting down a note to make it seem like he was paying attention. He actually was, sort of. Somehow he’s lucky enough for you to not notice him being distracted (or you do, and he’s the one who didn’t notice). 
“Frontal lobe, right,” he mutters lowly, under his breath.
“The cerebellum is our little assistant to the CEO. It’s responsible for our movement, coordination, and balance,” You say, pointing to a spot on the sketch at the very back of the brain and above the brainstem. “Think of it as the brain’s quality control. It just makes sure that whatever movements we do are smooth and precise, so…” 
Nope. He still can’t detect those rumours that paint you as some sort of cold, calculated, and harsh TA. He spots not a single one of those in your demeanour. Briefly, he wonders whether or not those rumours bother you, if they’ve ever bothered you or made you feel misunderstood. Swiftly, though, he brushes those thoughts away𑁋he’s more focused on you than the material at hand. 
It’s hard not to look at you, in all honesty. 
“Junhui?” Your voice pulls him back to reality.
“Huh?” he responds, a little too quickly.
You tilt your head slightly, a small, knowing smile on your lips. “I asked if you’re ready to move on to the brainstem, or do you want to go over the cerebellum again?”
“Oh, um… no, I’m good,” he says, feeling his face heat up slightly. He hopes you don’t notice how flustered he is. “Let’s move on.”
You nod, satisfied with his answer, and continue your explanation, turning your attention to the next section of the brain. 
“The brainstem,” You begin, pointing to an area at the bottom of the brain with the pencil. “is like the brain's relay station. It connects the brain to the spinal cord and controls many of the body’s automatic functions, like breathing, heart rate, and digestion. Without it, our bodies wouldn't be able to function properly…”
Jun observes as you draw a line down the sketch, clearly marking the brainstem. He’s listening, or at least trying to, but his mind keeps drifting back to how comfortable this whole situation feels. He expected to be a nervous wreck, fumbling through explanations and possibly embarrassing himself in front of you. But instead, he finds himself oddly at ease, more focused on how you’re able to break down the complex information into something so much more digestible.
“Still with me?” You ask suddenly, looking up from your notes to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Jun answers unsurely, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. He offers a small smile, hoping it masks his earlier distraction.
A flicker of amusement flashes in your eyes, and there’s a warmth in your expression that puts Jun further at ease. “Okay, great. We can continue then.”
The rest of the session goes by surprisingly rather quickly. You guide Jun through the material, your explanations helping Jun absorb the information more effectively than the regular in-class lectures. It makes him think about how great you would be as a professor, or anything in the medical field. Everything just seems to flow out of you seamlessly as you discuss various brain functions and their relevance to anatomy and dissections.
As Jun is finishing up the last of some notes, you ask, “Would you mind if I write you a little sticky note? To tell you what to look over when you’re reviewing on your own?” 
Jun looks up, a bit surprised but grateful. “That would be good, thank you.” 
You stand up to retrieve a sticky note from Professor’s Lee desk, before returning back to Jun and writing down: 
Review over neuroanatomy and its functions! •ᴗ•  
Finally, you plaster the sticky note at the corner of the page in his notebook. 
There’s a comfortable silence that follows as you both gather your belongings. It feels like a small victory for Jun𑁋he not only survived the session but actually, in a way, enjoyed it.
As you both stand up, ready to leave, you glance over at him.
“By the way, I don’t think you need all that perfume on,” You say, a hint of laughter in your voice.
Jun’s eyes widen, caught off-guard. Shit. “Oh, uh𑁋yeah, that…”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just… a little overwhelming. Maybe tone it down next time?”
Jun’s face flushes as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I uh… was rushing and just grabbed what I could find. I didn’t mean to overdo it.”
“You’re all good,” You reassure him, still smiling as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Just a little heads-up. So, anyway, for the next session…”
Next session? His jaw nearly drops to the floor at your casual mention of a next session. 
“...I think I’ll try and set up a little lesson plan we can reference off of… probably review over the cardiovascular system…”
“You… You don’t have to do all that,” Jun interjects. “It sounds like a lot of work.” 
You dismiss him off with a reassuring wave. “It’s no trouble. I think it’ll help to have a structured plan for us to follow. It’ll make sure we cover everything orderly.” 
Jun zips his mouth shut and just nods in agreement, unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, biting it back when he hangs his head down to the ground. When he perks back up, he finds you over at Professor Lee’s desk, sorting through some papers before organising the stack and preparing to finally leave. He opens his mouth, but the words he wanted to say stick to his tongue.
“I’ll see you later?” Jun calls out to you instead, his voice bouncing off the walls of the lecture hall. 
You glance up at him in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you later, Junhui.”
He takes a visible gulp.
“Jun,” he suddenly says, saying it as if he were correcting you, which in a way, he is, but it comes out a bit awkwardly. “You can call me just Jun, if you’d like.” 
A wave of surprise washes over your features, before ultimately fading into a pleasant smile.
“Alright, Just Jun,” You reply, tilting your head slightly. “I’ll see you later.” 
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One could probably say you’re a party pooper. Not necessarily intentionally, but instead of filling up your college experience with going to parties and social events, you find yourself buried within pages of textbooks. Your weekends aren’t filled with the chaoticness of drinking and loosening up; rather, they consist of quiet study sessions in your room and creating new lecture material.
You’re not avoiding fun𑁋at least, that’s what you always tell yourself𑁋you’re just focused on achieving your academic goals.
It’s a routine carved ever since you were younger, your parents constantly instilling that education is the key to success, and you’ve taken that message to heart. From an early age, you learned to prioritise your studies over everything else. As you grew older, you carried that mindset with you, where you’ve become known among your peers as the diligent, dependable student and TA who always has their priorities straight.
Your schedule is precise, your assignments are always turned in on time, always prepared for every quiz and exam, and your grades reflect the countless hours you’ve spent studying. It’s a reputation you’re proud of, but it also comes with a certain level of pressure𑁋pressure to maintain those high standards, to never let yourself slip.
You sit back in the seat, satisfied after crafting a proper lesson plan and organising your materials for your next tutoring session. When you glance over at your planner to see who was coming in today, the name that you spot is𑁋
Knock. 
You glance up from your planner and over to the door. “Come in!”
It takes a few moments for the door to swing in, and the tall figure that steps through is unmistakable𑁋light brown hair slightly fluffed out, a half-opened black backpack hanging on his shoulders, and an oversized hoodie that appeared way more comfortable than it needed to be.
“Jun?” You look at the time on your phone. “You’re here early.” 
“Oh, yeah…” Jun runs a hand through his tousled hair. “I thought showing up early could give us some extra time, maybe. Unless… unless you’re still busy?” 
You shake your head. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes and then we can start?”
“Yeah. Take all the time that you need.” 
Once again, it’s only the two of you in the lecture hall. He ponders if you’ve tutored any students before him today, hovering near you as he watches you sort through some papers and adjust your notes. The room is quiet except for the faint rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Jun can sense his curiosity growing within him, making him fidget with the strap of his backpack. 
“So, uh… how long have you been a TA for Professor Lee?” 
You pick your head up from your papers, fingers resting at the edge of the desk. 
“Since the beginning of the year,” You reply. “I got recommended to him by some previous professors, and I guess I couldn’t say no to the opportunity.”
Jun nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Do you like it? Being a TA, I mean.”
You consider his question for a moment, feeling a bit reflective as you answer, “I do, actually. It’s hard but rewarding, you know? I get to help students understand the material better, and I learn a lot in the process too. It’s a good balance between teaching and learning, I would say.”
Jun takes in your words attentively, peeking his eyes toward you with an almost shy smile. There’s a quiet admiration in the way he looks at you that you don’t notice, as if he’s trying to understand how you manage to keep everything together so well. Then a moment of silence fills the space between you two, not uncomfortable, maybe a bit awkward on his end, but more contemplative.
Jun shifts this abominable weight pressing down on him from one foot to the other. He’s not used to being in situations like this𑁋alone with someone who seems so put together, so sure of themselves. It’s both inspiring and a little intimidating. The silence seems to stretch, and you can see the gears turning in his head, like he’s on the verge of saying something but can’t quite find the right words.
“I guess I wonder how you manage it all so well,” he remarks timidly. “You’re always so organised and… on top of things. I’m curious how you do it.”
You purse your lips together into a thin line and simply shrug your shoulders. “I’ve always had high expectations for myself growing up and I guess it’s carried into everything I do now. It’s become second nature, really.” 
As Jun takes in your words, that sense of admiration seems to soften into a bit of worry. It’s amazing that you could handle so many responsibilities at once, but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like a lot of stress and pressure to manage. He wonders if you ever feel overwhelmed or if it ever gets too much to handle at times. 
You probably do𑁋you’re human, after all𑁋and a twinge of concern snakes up his spine as he thinks about.
“Anyway, hm… I was thinking about going over the cardiovascular system for this session. What do you say?” You ask him.
Jun snaps out of his thoughts, walking briskly over towards the desk to take a seat. “Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” 
The session is just similar to last time: you begin by outlining the cardiovascular system, breaking it down into different sections just as you did with the brain, and using relatable analogies with associating each part with their functions.
“...so the heart has four chambers: the left and right atria plus the left and right ventricles,” You explain, pointing down to the drawing you made with the tip of your pencil. “The right side deals with deoxygenated blood, while the left side handles oxygenated blood. The heart’s valves make sure that blood flows in the correct direction. Think of it like… traffic signals.”
“Traffic signals…” Jun mutters to himself as he writes down notes. Knowing that this is all going on within his own body wraps around his mind uncomfortably.
As you continue explaining, there’s that light again that Jun detects in your eyes, as well as the subtle lift to your lips that makes your voice just a step higher. His gaze also follows your hands that you unknowingly maneuver when you talk, the movements graceful and expressive, like you’re bringing the material to life.
“Are you familiar with where all your pulse points are?” 
Jun lifts a brow, thinking for a second, before taking a finger down to his wrist. “I think so. There’s one here… on the wrist…”
“The radial artery.”
“Radial artery. Yeah.” Then he drags the tip of his finger up to his inner elbow. “There’s also one here. The brachial artery, right?”
“You got it.” 
He grins bashfully at that, though it’s quick to fade when he focuses again, pointing down to his leg. “There’s also two here. Femoral and… pop… Popliteal?”
“You’re right,” You confirm wholeheartedly, and Jun’s heart flutters in small victory. 
Jun then brings his hand back up, using two fingers to point to a spot on his neck. 
“And, uh… The one here on the neck. It’s…” He continues pressing down into his skin to find where he can feel his pulse, but your eyes on him is causing him to feel a bit self-conscious. “Uh…”
“The carotid artery. Right here.”
Before Jun has a chance to correct himself, you’re suddenly scooting closer to him in your chair, leaning in and extending an arm out towards him. The sudden contact of your fingers on the side of his neck makes his eyes widen and his breath to hitch. 
Your fingers rest gently on the side of his neck, just below his jawline, and for a brief moment, the world outside of the lecture hall seems to disappear. The visible swallow of his Adam’s apple isn’t hard to miss as he tries to focus on anything but the sensation of your hand on his neck.
Heat washes over his face, and he swears to himself that you could most definitely feel the way his pulse is running marathons under your touch. All of a sudden his tongue goes dry, his limbs go numb, and the way you’re so close to him makes it hard for him to properly think straight, let alone form any sort of coherent response.
Your eyes meet for a singular millisecond, too quick that Jun could have possibly been imagining it.
Pulling your hand away, you clear your throat soundly. “Try it.”
It takes Jun a moment to register you were talking to him, and he tentatively replaces the spot where your fingers were at with his own.
“Right here?” he asks.
“Mhm.” Your gaze roams over his concentrated face. “Apply a bit of pressure. That’s the carotid artery doing its work.” 
His pulse is certainly fast. The thought has him sinking into a pit of embarrassment. 
But he only nods, keeping his voice steady as he says, “Yeah, I feel it.”
“So whenever you want to count your heart rate, this is one of the places you can check,” You instruct. “You can just press down on that spot and count the number of beats you feel in 15 seconds. Then, multiply that number by four, and you’ll have your heart rate in beats per minute.”
Jun attempts to listen to his heart rate, but the attentive look you have on your face as you watch him makes it really hard to properly count. So he chooses to let his hand fall back down. He wouldn’t be able to calculate it with you here with him anyway. 
When the two of you meet eyes for the nth time, there’s a fleeting, almost electric moment of mutual awareness. None of you acknowledge it, yet it awkwardly lingers in the air. Warmth spreads across Jun’s chest, coupled with a nervous energy that makes his heart beat soar just a little faster.
You break the tension with an airy chuckle. “Are you ready to move on?” 
Jun blinks a few times, shaking off whatever awkwardness swirling around him, and nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
By the time he gets back to his apartment later that evening and begins to unpack his things from his backpack, a small piece of pink paper flutters down to the floor like a feather, landing by his foot. It’s a sticky note, reading:
Good sesh today •ᴗ• Don’t forget to review!
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“There’s no way I’m touching a brain.”
“Jun, you have to! You’ll be wearing gloves anyway𑁋”
“I cannot cut into a brain. That is gross,” Jun rebukes defensively, face scrunching up with stubborn refusal. 
“Jun, dissections are really important for anatomy,” You clarify calmly. “It’s part of the learning process.”
“Yeah, I… I know,” he mumbles defeatedly, almost shameful to admit. “I’m not that good with, uh… dead things. Like, couldn’t we look at diagrams or pictures instead? They’re less… squishy.” 
You smile amusedly at that, finding his squeamishness a bit endearing. But you straighten your posture and plaster on a reassuring look to your face. 
“I understand that it’s not for everyone,” You respond, a comforting tone to your voice. “But getting hands-on experience is really valuable. It’s one thing to see it in a book, but actually being able to identify the structures in real life makes a big difference in how you understand the material.”
Jun still looks apprehensive, but your words bring a sparkle of determination to his eyes. The idea of cutting into something that used to be alive still makes his stomach turn and the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, but he knows that you’re right. When are you not right?
“It just feels illegal,” Jun admits uneasily, a shudder running through him at the thought. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“That’s what I’m here for, remember?” You lightly nudge him in the arm with your elbow, attempting to lighten the mood. “We’re partners, after all.”
“Yeah, but…” There’s some hesitation, his gaze dropping down to his shoes. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “I want to show you that I’m capable of doing something…”
“Then we’ll start off slow, make you become familiar with everything,” You reason gently. “I know you’re not the only one who feels queasy by it, but you’ll have to face it. Facing your fears can help in conquering them, you know.” 
The corners of Jun’s lips tug up at that, mainly from the fact that you’re able to reassure him this effortlessly. He can’t tell if it’s exactly your words that eases up his nerves or if it’s simply your presence here with him right now thawing away the ice of his fears. Whatever it is, all he can really say is he likes knowing that you genuinely care.
And he likes knowing that you’re right next to him too.
“If I freak out,” he starts. “You’ll promise to help me out?”
Your lips draw into a thin line, a certain playfulness softening the features of your face. 
“No promises, but𑁋”
“Hey!”
“Study what we discussed today and then I’ll consider it.” There’s still a twinge of tease to your words, but the edges are roughened with a touch of sincerity. 
Jun just grins. How could anyone ever make up ridiculous rumours about you?
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“Good game, man. Same time again next Saturday?”
Jun huffs out a winded breath, dabbing at the sweat that clings to his forehead with the edge of his shirt before taking a long chug out of the water bottle that Wonwoo tosses over to him. 
“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” he replies exhaustedly, taking another tip of water, feeling his muscles aching from the game. 
As his friends leave the basketball court, he starts to retrieve his own belongings, slinging his backpack and hoodie over his shoulder and starting his walk towards the bus stop so he could go back home. The sun has completely set at this point, the night sky now blanketing the city in a cool, comfortable darkness. The breeze that floats through the air relieves some of the tension in his body, cooling his skin after the intense game. Jun walks slowly, taking his time on the way to the bus stop, simply savouring the peacefulness of the evening.
He considers getting food for himself𑁋there’s a small convenience store that he spots at the corner of his eye, and his stomach rumbles at the thought. 
He changes direction and heads toward the store, the faint jingling of the door chime greeting him as he steps inside. The store is a cozy, cluttered space with a mix of snacks, drinks, and other essentials. He decides on grabbing a cold drink and some instant ramen that he can heat up when he gets home. And after purchasing, he heads back outside and continues his way to the bus stop.
Tapping his bus card on the scanner, Jun makes his way toward the back of the bus and settles into a seat closest to the window, the seat right next to him vacant. The bus was mostly empty, but everyone else was spread out in their own seats either dozing off, listening to music, or staring out the window. It’s quite nice, he must say.
The sounds of him crumpling his bag fills the still air of the bus as he waits for the bus to move, but the hissing of the doors opening perks his attention up. 
Out of all things, he certainly never expected to see the sight of you breathlessly climbing onto the bus, muttering apologies towards the bus driver as you scramble for your bus card in your wallet. Your backpack is about to slip off your shoulder, cheeks flushed from assuming all the running you did to get here, and a mask of tiredness that you wear on your face that isn’t hard to notice. Were you at campus? It’s almost ten at night. 
And out of all things, he didn’t expect for you to come over to him among the many empty seats in the bus. 
“Hey,” You greet him breathlessly, glancing down at the empty seat next to him. “Are you fine with me sitting here?” 
Jun blinks, before speedily adjusting himself, forcing his body more into the seat so you would have all the room that you wanted. He gives you a nod. 
Smiling faintly, you sit down right next to him, shoulder brushing against his. You settle your backpack on your lap and lean back a bit, finally allowing yourself to relax. The bus lurches, beginning to move forward. Jun lets his eyes wash over you.
“Did… you just come from campus?” he asks. 
You laugh awkwardly at that. “Yeah, I… I was studying.”
“You study this late at night on campus?”
“I do.” It’s a bit funny admitting that, you don’t know why. “Sorta lost track of time, I guess.” 
Jun keeps a fixed look on you, as if there was some anomaly within your words, but he knows you’re telling the truth. He just can’t believe that anyone would stay on campus so late, plus you look way too tired, like you could pass out any second. Some worry flows down his body. 
“That sounds… exhausting,” he says, concern edging his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
You glance at him, eyes softening slightly. There’s something about him asking that tugs at your heart. “I’m fine. It’s not unusual for me to be up late studying. I’m used to it.”
Jun feels his fingers twitch around the bag in his grasp. “I see.”
You let your head fall slightly. “Thank you though.”
He faces you curiously. “For what?”
“Just…” For being here? For asking if I’m okay? “I don’t know. Thank you.”
He doesn’t know why you’re thanking him; if anything he should be the one thanking you.
“Oh.” A small smile appears on his lips. “You’re welcome.”
He feels weird. Not in a bad sense𑁋far from that, actually. It’s basically his first time ever interacting with you that isn’t on school grounds, and in a way right now, he isn’t the student and you’re not the TA. He’s simply Jun, and you are… well, you. You’re just two people sharing a late bus ride, and Jun is oddly grateful for the chance to see this side of you𑁋tired, a little vulnerable, but still yourself nonetheless.
The bus rumbles lightly. Silence swirling the air around the two of you. Jun glances at your profile, noticing how your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before snapping open again. His fingers twitch again, wanting to do something more𑁋maybe offer you his jacket, or ask if you need anything𑁋but he holds himself back.
The thought of pushing himself to exhaustion like that feels foreign. But he knows you well enough𑁋or at least, he’s seen you enough𑁋to know you’re driven, always working hard, sometimes too hard. He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay to slow down.
“Y/N?” he calls out quietly.
You face him with a cute, sleepy look. “Hm?”
“You’re falling asleep.”
You giggle lazily at that, the sound unguarded and relaxed. “Sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You can close your eyes. When’s your stop?”
Gazing at the window for a few moments, you take note of the familiar surroundings that the bus passes by. “It should be the next one.” 
Before you can settle back into the seat, Jun quickly adds, suddenly feeling brave, “You can… lean on my shoulder if you want.”
You hesitate for a moment, then give him a drowsy, grateful smile. “I think I’d like that.”
With a sigh, you allow your head to rest against his shoulder, and Jun could only imagine how uncomfortable his own shoulder might be compared to a pillow, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you as well𑁋at least he thinks you don’t.
Your eyes are closed when Jun leans down to sneak a glance at your face, your features softened with exhaustion. There’s the faintest sight of a smile to your lips, and it makes his own curve up slightly too. His heart stirs in his chest, all while attempting to fully compose himself so you wouldn’t be disturbed. 
As his eyes drift back outside, he leans his own head on the window, watching the cityscape pass by. There’s fatigue crawling up his body too, but he forces himself to stay awake so that he knows when your stop is approaching. He casts glimpses down to you to make sure you’re still comfortable, but every time he looks at you, his heart seems to do a little jump, a little flutter in his chest. 
Jun knows he shouldn’t hope for anything more than this moment, knows he shouldn’t let himself fall into dreams of what-ifs, but he can’t help it. Admitting to himself that he likes you is bizarre, almost too bold for him to fully accept. Yet here you are, leaning against him, breathing softly in your dazed state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
And maybe, just maybe, he thinks, it could be.
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You could tell there was something off about Jun today, and it seems to bother you a little more than you expect. 
He just didn’t seem to be… paying attention. You would explain something to him, and he’d reply with a small hum of acknowledgment before drifting off into a bit of a daydreaming state. Perhaps his mind was clouded and it wasn’t your place to ask, or maybe he was just tired. Regardless, you knew that it wouldn’t get either of you progress through this tutoring session, especially when you’re trying to instruct him about what to expect for the dissections.
“Jun?” You snap your finger in front of his face, and he immediately perks up. “You got all that down?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, the probe…” He trails off, looking a bit lost. “Uh, can you repeat it?”
“The probe is used to explore and identify different anatomical structures,” You explain slowly. “But remember to be careful with it. Tissues are very delicate, so one wrong move could cause damage.” 
You watch quietly as he writes down the notes, his head resting on his as if he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.
“I saw you fall asleep today in class.”
Jun looks back up at you, eyes widening as if what he had done was some sort of crime. He suddenly appears more awake than ever.
“Crap, I… I’m sorry,” he mutters in apology, face flushing with embarrassment. “I knew you were lecturing since Professor Lee wasn’t here today, but I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t keep my eyes open that well. I’m really sorry.”
He could only assume the worst𑁋that you’re mad at him for falling asleep, when in reality he had stayed up late the night before to review over the material the two of you have covered so far during your sessions. But when your face softens into a look of understanding, he seems to relax. Just slightly. 
“Jun, it’s fine, really. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” You reassure him gently. “Trust me, you’re not in trouble and I’m not mad.”
He swallows down the lump in your throat. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Like really sure?”
“One thousand percent.”
“I’m not convinced.” A sly grin spreads across Jun’s face. What a dork.
“Unfunny,” You huff, before taking a seat right next to him and flipping through the pages in your lesson plan. 
Once again, Jun props an elbow on the table and leans his head on his hand, a playful smirk lingering on his face as he watches you. You feel his eyes on you. 
“It sort of gave me a little glimpse into your life, you know.” 
You glance up, intrigued. “Yeah? And what did you take from that?”
“That… I really cannot and will never be on your level of studying,” Jun admits sheepishly. He seems to crawl into himself a bit more as he continues hesitantly, “and, uh, made me admire you a little bit more too.”
You freeze at that, pausing mid-flipping through a page in your planner as his words float through the air. Admire… you? It wasn’t something you ever anticipated hearing from him𑁋ever anticipated to see him this forward𑁋especially not today when he seemed so out of it.
You clear your throat softly, trying to act nonchalant. “You admire me?”
Jun chuckles softly, the sound a little awkward as he tries to ease the tension. “Well, who wouldn’t?”
He’s probably digging himself into a bit of a hole right now, perhaps overstepping a small boundary of what was supposed to be just a casual tutoring session. But really, despite these sessions honestly really helping with understanding the material, he’s mainly here because… well… he gets to spend time with you. 
“Sorry, I-I mean… I made this weird, didn’t I?” Jun swiftly corrects himself, face flushing deeper with each word that leaves him. “I guess I just want to thank you for pushing me to do better. I’ve always… kind of admired that about you for a while now.”
Even you momentarily forget what you wanted to discuss with him for the session, a surge of warmth shooting through your body. The only sounds you could hear right now are the branches outside hitting the window from the wind and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The room was quiet, filled with an awkward, yet comfortable tension that neither of you seemed to know how to break.
“I’m glad to hear that,” You tell him. “It means a lot that you feel that way.” 
Relief and apprehension hugs around Jun, as if unsure whether he should say anything more or go back to tutoring. But he thinks he’s already said enough𑁋at this point his tired brain nearly made him confess his feelings, and that would be utterly stupid of him. 
“But you should really learn how to rest,” he suddenly says firmly.
You laugh that off way too easily. “You know that I can’t𑁋”
“I know, but… come on, just rest for a little bit,” Jun insists. “At least for a few minutes.”
“You’re seriously telling me to rest while I’m here to tutor you?” You lift a brow, almost teasingly.
The way he only nods and gazes at you with pleading eyes almost resembling a cat stretching out for attention makes it almost impossible to resist. And you would hate to admit that yeah, maybe you do push yourself way too much, that all the strenuous effort you put into studying is now starting to take a noticeable toll on you. At the moment, rest does sound really nice.
“My friends and I are planning a hangout this weekend at my place, if you’d like to join us. You… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you’re not into that kind of stuff,” Jun informs you sheepishly. “It’s not a lot of us too, but if you ever want to just… unwind, you know, you could stop by. We aren’t doing anything too wild, just a chill get-together. They’re all cool, I swear.”
You consider his offer. Again, you were never much of a party person nor ever gave a crap about that sort of stuff, but the thought of taking a break from your routine is a bit... enticing, to say the least.
“I’ll think about it. Thank you,” You say with a grateful smile, finally giving in. “Give me a few minutes to tidy up?”
Jun watches for a few moments as you quickly organise through your notes and gather up the loose papers that have accumulated on the table, standing up and heading to the front of the lecture hall to put away the rest of the materials that you won’t need for the session. 
As he waits for you to finish, Jun sets aside his own stuff, folds his arms and places them on the table, slowly guiding his head to rest on top. He closes his eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity to rest as much as his body craves.
By the time you get back, you catch a glimpse of Jun’s relaxed form in his seat, and your heart does a little flip in your chest. The corners of your lips tug up unknowingly into a soft smile as you settle into the seat cautiously next to him, feeling a wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once.
It’s rare that you let yourself go these days, but with Jun here, it seems easier to let your guard down, even for just a few minutes. 
Without much thought you let your head rest gently on your own arms, finding yourself staring at the front lecture hall, before ultimately, moving your head so that you were facing Jun. You’ve never seen him this close before, drawn into his features for a moment or two𑁋over his closed eyes and the small moles that pepper his cheek and one particular spot above his lips, which were curled up slightly. Contentment warms you like a blanket as you let your eyes drift to a close.
Unbeknownst to you, Jun slowly peeks his eyes open, being met with the sight of you resting so peacefully and comfortably beside him. A sense of calm takes over the vast lecture hall as he simply watches you, even feeling brave enough to lightly brush a strand of hair away from your face with his finger, before quickly pulling back when he catches your nose scrunching a little in your sleep. His heart swells even more.
He decides on settling back into his own arms, taking one last glance at you before drifting back into light sleep. 
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“You’re way too smiley to be going to a tutoring session,” Chan points out as he catches Jun about to leave. “Isn’t it like your third time alone this week? Last week you went twice…”
Jun snorts annoyedly at that. “Yeah, and?”
“We’re just saying you’re way too happy to be going to tutoring, man,” Soonyoung continues on, an edge of suspicion to his words. “Did you find out the meaning of life? Figure out why our bodies cause us to shit and piss or why the earth goes around the sun?”
“I’d be happy to answer that question if you’re curious,” Jun states wryly. 
Soonyoung scrunches his face and shakes his head. “Please don’t.” 
His roommate only observes as Jun stuffs his feet into his Converse, which looked to be at the end of its life. Minghao comes out moments later, toothbrush in his mouth with bits of foam to the corners of his lips. Along with Soonyoung and Chan, the three of them watch as Jun finishes lacing up his shoes, his good mood unwavering.
“I think I have an answer to that question,” Minghao says, voice somewhat muffled.
Soonyoung faces the younger boy. “The piss or the earth one?”
“He has a crush,” Minghao states flatly, a subtle smirk creeping onto his face despite the toothbrush still dangling from his lips.
“A crush?” Soonyoung’s eyes widen as he exchanges a glance with Chan, the two of them looking like they were about to combust any second. “A crush on that scary TA?”
“They’re not scary!” Jun protests, face reddening hearing his own loud voice, secretly hoping to make some sort of quick escape before his friends could pry any further into his dry love life, but he knows he won’t be able to get them off his ass. “So what if I have a crush on them?”
Soonyoung’s jaw drops to the floor at that, before bursting into laughter. “‘So what’? You’re totally into them!” He starts bouncing on his toes, a grin stretching across his face. “You’re in loooove with the scary TA! This is gold.”
Jun could seriously strangle all of his roommates right now. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the door, regretting opening his mouth. Was he seriously that obvious? “You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.” 
“Bro, you’re blushing so hard right now,” Chan chimes in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
Minghao chuckles, finally pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. “It’s obvious. You don’t study like that for just anyone.”
Jun’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “I𑁋okay, fine! Maybe I like them a little bit, but it’s not a big deal! I’m just trying to do well in class. Now, can I leave?” 
It takes one last torturous minute of teasing before Jun shoots his roommates with annoyed looks and heads out of the apartment.
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Normally at nine o’clock, you would most likely be in the campus library studying until your eyes go dry, or in your own place with textbooks sprawled over your bed. But this time, you find yourself right in front of the address Jun sent you𑁋his address, specifically.
You’d spent the past few days thinking about his invitation, and despite some initial hesitation, you may be looking forward to this little break from your routine. Because according to Jun from a text he sent you the night before along with the address: it’s what you deserve.
Your heart still does a little jump when you think about it still.
[09:08 | y/n] Hey Jun! I’m here by the way
Your phone vibrates right away.
[09:09 | just jun] WHAT omg
[09:09 | just jun] sorry i’m coming out right now!!!
There’s a figure that emerges from a door, waving to you from above. You give out a small wave as you start to make yourself comfortable on the front steps of the building. Jun hurries down the stairs, looking both relieved and a bit flustered as he reaches you.
“Hey, I…” His eyes roam over you from head-to-toe. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” 
You offer a tentative smile. “Well, I figured, you know? Thought it would be nice to stop by for a little bit. Plus you live closer than I thought.”
Jun’s face brightens, the relief in his own grin oozing its way into your heart, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his place.
Just as he promised, the gathering was quite small. Jun introduces you to his roommates𑁋Minghao, Soonyoung, and Chan are their names (Soonyoung and Chan look oddly more excited to see you, for some reason)𑁋and two others in his year. You recognise Wonwoo, who is a TA from the English department, and the other is Jihoon, whose name had been tossed around quite frequently during your time in university.
Overall, the vibes have been quite laid-back, and the apartment has been warm and inviting so far.
“Do you want something to drink?” Jun asks as he leads you towards the kitchen, where some food and snacks were sprawled across the counter. “There’s water, soda, and um… some alcohol too.”
Your eyes roam over the assortment on the counter, gaze lingering on the bottles of alcohol. For some reason the idea of relaxing and letting loose feels particularly appealing tonight, and you can hardly remember the last time you had a proper drink of… anything. 
“I’ll take some alcohol,” You answer, suddenly feeling a bit adventurous; it even surprises Jun. 
Jun pulls one of the bottles and pours you a generous amount before handing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you find yourself settling down in a seat near Wonwoo and Jihoon. 
Soonyoung and Chan come into view a few minutes later, and they’re still looking at you as if you’ve come in with a second head.
“You’re not scary,” Chan claims randomly, scanning you up and down with his eyes closely.
You lift a brow and look behind you, thinking he was talking to someone, before turning back to him. 
“Me?” You point to yourself. “Scary?” 
Soonyoung takes a sip of his own drink before saying, “Yeah, dude, I mean… There used to be a lot of rumours spread about you being like, mean and stuff, you know? I’m talking about people saying you were super strict, always serious, and that if anyone messed up in class, you’d roast them alive.”
You almost want to laugh at that. Sure, you’ve heard plenty of those rumours before and never really let it get to you, or had the time to straight up dismiss them, but you didn’t think people were still clinging onto those thoughts nowadays. 
“Did you expect me to show up with devil horns and a pitchfork?" You joke, finally allowing yourself to laugh, shaking your cup in amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realise I was so terrifying. Maybe I should start living up to it now.”
Soonyoung lets out a hearty laugh, almost choking on his drink. “Please, no! We’re all just barely surviving as it is.”
“Nah, you’re good as you are. If anything I’m glad to see that the stuff people have said aren’t true,” Chan adds in.
An exaggerated gasp leaves Soonyoung. “Oh my, God, wait! Does this mean we’re friends now?” His excitement is so over-the-top that you can’t help but laugh too. 
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You tease with a faint smirk, shrugging. “If you behave.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Soonyoung declares, grinning ear to ear as Chan gives him an enthusiastic high five. His face is already turning the slightest bit of red from the alcohol. “Jun, you’re in good hands!”
In the kitchen, you catch Jun gazing over his shoulder and towards his friends. And when his eyes land on you, he shoots you a brief smile before quickly taking his eyes away, but the tips of his ears being red doesn’t go unnoticed when he turns away.
As the night continues, you find yourself letting loose, more than you’ve ever done recently. You find yourself easily getting along with the lively atmosphere of Jun and all of his friends. You don’t really know how many drinks you’ve taken at this point in time, how many refills you’ve been offered, but the buzz you feel is pleasant and warm, your inhibitions slowly but surely melting away. Laughter tumbles out of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, almost to the point you feel your chest physically ache.
Occasionally, from the side, Jun quietly watches you. He can feel his own mood lifting with every smile that finds its way on your face. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a completely different person𑁋someone entirely the opposite from the studious TA he’s been used to this entire time.
But the second he sees you stumble slightly when you come out from a bathroom break, a pang of worry hits him.
“You okay?” he asks you when you nearly run into him, making him circle his arms around you out of habit in case you might fall. However, you’re somehow so close to him that he can feel the warmth of you through his clothes. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re grinning lazily up at him, the effects of the alcohol clearly taking their toll.
“Oh, doing lovely, um…” You assure him, voice wobbly as you clear your throat. “The alcohol was awesome. I haven’t… I haven’t drank like this in such a long time. It feels sooooo nice.” 
You nearly stumble into him again as you attempt to move past him, and he’s quick as the Flash to grab you by the shoulders, his hands squeezing tightly around your forearm. 
“I think you should sit down, Y/N.” 
“Bu-But I don’t want to!” 
A playful pout spreads across your face as he carefully leads you back to the quiet kitchen, away from whatever version of charades the others have put on in the middle of the living room.
“You’ve drank too much,” Jun points out worriedly. “Do you want me to take you home? I can walk𑁋”
“What are you? My… my boss or something? I’m supposed to be the one in control here! I’m… I’m the one making the decisions, not you!” You protest, a weak, half-hearted attempt at establishing your authority as you knead the fabric of his shirt into your fists. 
Did you have to be so cute when you’re drunk? Though Jun is fast to shake those thoughts away and focus more on making sure you’re okay, having to bite the bottom of his lip to conceal an incoming, endearing grin at your silly antics. 
“Come on, let me get you some water and then I’ll take you home, okay?” Jun offers, and you give him a tight-lipped smile. 
“But I am home,” You slur lowly, circling a finger in front of his face, close enough you may jab him in the eye. “I’m home here… with you…”
Jun seriously doesn’t know how he would be able to dismiss those words that left your mouth, even in your inebriated state. It doesn’t help that you’re also looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile, like the world is spinning and yet he’s the only one keeping you steady. 
“Let’s go. I’m taking you home,” Jun says as he snatches up a bottle of water and slowly coaxes you towards the door, not before announcing to his friends as well, who all seem too drunk to even care anyway.
The second the cool air meets your skin and the cold water flows down your throat, you seem a little more lucid, but not entirely. You still clung an arm around Jun’s own arm, which was hanging loosely and awkwardly to the side, your steps a bit uneven as you walk down the street together.
Jun holds his breath every time your body knocks into his side, afraid you might lose balance, but you somehow manage to stay upright𑁋barely. The warmth of your arm wrapped around his doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Hey, Y/N𑁋”
“Shhhhh,” You suddenly hiss, making Jun shut his mouth. “You’re too loud.”
Jun hangs his head down in slight guilt. “Sorry.”
“Hmm, isokay,” You mutter, tightening a grip on his and nearly causing Jun himself to stumble. “You know, you’re always so… nice. It’s kinda weird.” 
Jun tilts his head, somewhat confused by your drunken logic. He glances at you, catching the way your cheeks are shaded with a rosy hue and the warmness to your hazy eyes. 
“Weird?” he repeats curiously.
“Yeah…” You draw out the word clumsily, shifting your eyes towards him, gaze lingering on him a little longer than usual. “It’s like you’re not real sometimes.”
“You’re holding onto me.” Jun shakes his arm, and you still carry a tight grip on his arm, fingers digging lightly into the material of his sleeve. “I think I’m very real.”
“I know,” You mumble, scrunching your nose endearingly, as if you still don't believe him. “But you barely know me.” 
There’s a few moments of contemplation that passes by between the two of you. Your steps have somehow managed to sync with each other, the streetlights above casting down a soft glow on the pavement below, and the quiet night feels oddly… intimate. 
“Maybe.” Jun shrugs, voice low and soft. “But I like what I know so far.” 
Now it’s your turn to grow silent, a wave of realisation cutting through your inebriated thoughts. Your grip goes from loose to tight on Jun’s arm, your chest and heart feeling heavier than it did moments ago, and it certainly was not because of the alcohol.
Your mind is practically aching with all these thoughts, aching with the urge to do something about it, and the way Jun’s side profile is illuminated under the streetlight doesn’t help the situation at all.
“It’s funny, because I… I would see you come into class. And…” You let out a giggle. “I don’t know. My first thought was always that you were cute. Hmm, maybe dreamy too? Yeah, dreamy… That’s a silly word.” 
Before Jun can say anything to that, the words seem to tumble out of you. 
“...I’d see you fall asleep in the back of the class, or come late to lecture, and I’d think you were cute seeing you so panicked… And when you asked me to tutor you, I was so happy. It’s just𑁋I-I don’t know.” A brief pause, before you continue, “Is this what liking someone is?” 
Jun doesn’t notice how much his steps have faltered, his voice and own words getting caught somewhere between his throat and his heart. There’s a mix of panic, disbelief, and excitement flowing through him, almost too much he can’t quite process going from emotion to the other. However, how the hell does he respond when the person he’s been developing feelings for says something like that so openly?
“Shit, I’ve… I’ve made this weird, haven’t I?” You give yourself a light facepalm, before carding a hand through your hair. A yawn starts to leave you. “I’m just all over the place right now, I’m sorry…”
Jun wants to say something, needs to say something, but he stumbles over his words. “I… Y/N, I𑁋”
Before he can finish his sentence, you trip slightly, and he instinctively pulls you closer, catching you with both hands. A wholehearted round of laughter tumbles out of you, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and for a split second, everything feels still. His heart races faster than ever.
He lets you take the lead on the way back to your apartment complex, feeling as if he had been walking on eggshells the entire time. The buzz of the alcohol running its laps through you has seemed to soften, and if anything, you’re more than ready to sink into your bed for the night. Although there’s comfortable quietness in the air now, Jun can’t stop replaying all the words you’ve said to him tonight alone.
Before he can fully process everything, you come to an abrupt stop just outside your building, turning to look at him.
You stare at him for a moment, eyes roaming over his face as if you’re trying to commit everything to memory. Then, without thinking, you step up to him and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, fleeting, the gesture so unexpected it sends a rush of heat flooding up his neck and straight to the tips of his ears. He’s practically on fire, at this point. 
When you pull back, there’s a bashful smile playing at your lips. “Goodnight, Jun.”
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You don’t think you can ever look at Jun in the eyes without wanting to sink into the ground, because each time he comes into view, it reminds you of the absolute idiot you put on show for him last weekend. It’s harder to pay attention when your hands seem to touch every given opportunity. You just have to make it through one last tutoring session before the big dissections later that week.
“So, um, we’ll use the forceps to clamp and separate through the tissues,” Jun explains, pointing towards the dissection guide displayed on the table, still feeling a tad bit queasy at the thought of it, even if the dissection pan was empty. “Then the scalpel will be used to cut on the incision lines we marked.”
“That’s right. You got it,” You say with a small smile, briefly casting a glance towards him, watching the way he adjusts the goggles on his face. 
The two of you decided on running through the dissection for practice, focusing instead on the procedural steps and techniques. It’s been smooth-sailing so far𑁋Jun looks more confident and comfortable as he walks through each step𑁋and you’re positive that the actual lab will go well.
On the other hand, you both can’t deny the awkwardness thickening through the room, drifting within the crevices of even the most subtle interactions. 
“Alright, so once we’ve done that, we’ll… uh, we’ll…” Jun’s voice trails off as he fumbles slightly with the scalpel, trying to decide between placing it on the tray or handing it to you, his gloved fingers brushing against yours again as you grab it from him.
“Sorry,” You both blurt out at the same time, voices mixing into one.
As you both share an embarrassed laugh, a few moments of silence follows. It seems to dissipate the tension in the air. Some of it, at least.
Jun clears his throat. “Y/N, I𑁋”
“It’s fine,” You assure calmly. “Let’s just keep going.” 
“I… Okay.” His shoulders slump in a pit of defeat as he fixes his attention back down towards the task at hand. “Can you, uh… pass me the probe?”
You nod and hand it over to him, trying to attentively listen as he explains the function of the tool and how it would be used for the lab, adding any feedback along the way. You’re surprised at how easily you fall back into a comfortable rhythm, as if the moments from earlier had ceased to exist, as if that night and your stupidity didn’t happen, but only you both know about the unacknowledged elephant in the room.
The rest of the practice goes by without any more mishaps. The next thing you know, you’re pulling off your gloves and taking off your safety goggles as Jun sets the dissection tray away. By the time he returns, he’s surprised to see you already grabbing your belongings like you’re ready to leave.
Jun swallows down the nervous lump lodged in his throat. “Y/N, wait.”
You pause in the middle of stuffing some notebooks inside your backpack, already feeling the apprehension snaking up your spine as you face him.
“Can… Can we talk?” Jun asks hesitantly.
A sigh leaves you. “Look, that was really dumb of me, I get it. I shouldn’t have… kissed you on the cheek like that and said all those weird things. It was impulsive and I was drunk. I’m sorry, I should’ve known my limits, or maybe just have not come at all𑁋”
“I was really happy that you came,” Jun interrupts, a voice almost too loud in the quiet, empty lab room. He rubs his gloved hands together nervously. “And, um, the kiss... I liked it. It was, well… kind of nice.”
You really can’t tell if his words are making you feel any better or worse, if the hesitation on his side makes you want to sink more into the ground or feel a bit of hope. Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the warmth growing in your face as your fingers tighten around the strap of your backpack. 
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you too, and I wanted to finally tell you that before you left my place. But then things got a little messy and it was a bit overwhelming, so I wanted to take you home because you looked like you were about to𑁋”
“Jun, just…” You chime in ruefully, clearly not wanting to relive your stupidity. “Go back a little. You like me too?”
Jun takes in a deep, slow breath.
“Yes,” he says firmly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I said that.” 
The laughs that leave you two sound more freeing in a way, more effortless, like the thick, heavy fog that settled around the room has been lifted, and for the first time in days, everything is more clearer. 
The carefree grin that Jun catches to your features nearly forces him to step up towards you, but he holds back. Instead, he thinks the sight of you looking so naturally happy is something he could cherish for a very, very long time.
“So, uh…” he starts, shooting a sheepish glance down at his shoes before meeting your gaze once more. “We’re okay?”
You only nod.
“We’re okay,” You confirm softly. “Maybe more than that.” 
As you finish getting ready to leave, you turn back to Jun, who nearly drops the dissection pan in his hands. 
“I have a meeting to go to right now,” You tell him. “But afterwards, I could… text you?” 
His face brightens expectantly, attempting to keep the excitement coursing through him at bay.  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Um… have a good meeting.” 
He’s cute. And silly. And weird. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Before you finally leave the lab room, you take a leap of faith and turn back around, heading straight towards Jun. He’s in the middle of taking off his goggles when you find yourself standing back in front of him, and a mischievous grin etches across your face. Jun takes a few steps back, his ass nearly stumbling into the table behind him.
“One more thing.” You reach up and to gently tug the goggles off his face, and the contact of your fingers to his hair has Jun bracing himself for doomsday. Your breath fans against his skin for a moment, and when you pull away, you’re holding up the goggles towards him. “You were wearing these upside down the entire time.”
Jun chokes on air, and you let out a giggle.
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Shit.
Jun cannot focus right now.
The goggles feel uncomfortable on his face, the gloves make his skin feel clammy, the uncomfortable, pungent smell of formaldehyde fills the lab room and his nostrils. Not to mention that there’s a goddamn sheep brain sitting on the metal pan in front of him. 
Perhaps he can call it quits now𑁋take the zero for the lab and run for the hills, drop out of university, become a nomad in the countryside and never have to touch any sort of assignment again. In his mind right before the dissection starts, it really doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all…
“Jun?”
He snaps his eyes back at you. You’re wearing your own pair of gloves and goggles, positioning the dissection tools on the table, eyebrows raised in worry. 
“Are you good? We’re about to start,” You tell him. “You look a little pale.”
He blinks a few times, trying to compose and mentally ready himself, acting like he hasn’t just spent the last few minutes imagining an escape plan abandoning all forms of education. “Yeah, I… I’m good.”
“You good to start?” You ask, and the concern he senses in your voice makes his heart soften. “Or do you want me to take over first?’ 
There’s that offer again, the one he knows he should probably accept for the sake of his sanity, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to back out now. Not when he’s finally managed to clear the air between the two of you, when things are more comfortable than they’ve been in weeks. 
Jun exhales, shaking the tenseness out of his body. This is it. Glancing around the room, he notices that other students have already started their dissections with ease. He looks down at the sheep brain again, feeling that queasiness rising, but just your presence right next to him seems to settle down his nerves way more than it should.
He steels himself, trying to cling to that feeling instead of the growing discomfort in his stomach. He can do this. It’s just a brain. A sheep brain, he reminds himself, as if that makes it any better.
Letting out one last breath for good measure, he reaches for the scalpel. 
“I’m good,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Let’s do this.” 
His hand quivers as he leans in towards the sheep brain, its colour slightly pinkish and grey. His nose crinkles the closer he gets to it, and the second he lightly grazes the scalpel along the surface of the brain, he can’t help but wince. At his side, he feels your shoulder make contact with his, and helps ground him a little more. 
Narrowing his eyes, he focuses on making a precise incision straight down the middle of the brain𑁋the medial longitudinal fissure, he recalls𑁋his hand trembling slightly as he draws the scalpel down. The smell of formaldehyde grows stronger as he slices through the tissue, and the somewhat gelatinous texture that the brain has is incredibly off-putting. 
When he finally finishes, you help part the brain in half, and Jun’s eyes widen in awe at how visible the structures are. 
“You did pretty well.” You send an encouraging smile Jun’s way, taking the probe in your hand and motioning towards the exposed structures. “See? Look at that. You can see all the parts clearly.”
Jun takes a leap of faith and points to a particular part. “That’s… the thalamus there, right? And the hypothalamus is right below it.” 
You nod proudly. “You got it. And this section right here?”
“The… pons? And then, uh… Oh! The medulla oblongata. Then the spinal cord starts beneath it.”
“Yep. Here?”
“The cerebellum!” 
Your own heart seems to swell with every step up his confidence goes, whatever discomfort he was initially feeling begins to be melted away under the warmth of your praise. You bring your eyes up from the brain, letting it roam over his side profile, taking in the way the goggles make his hair stick out in odd angles, the curve of his jaw as he tilts his head slightly, brows furrowed in concentration.
As Jun pinpoints another structure on the brain, he faces toward you for confirmation, only to be met with your eyes already on him. He opens his mouth to say something, before slowly shutting it, and for a split second, he forgets about the question he was about to ask, the lab, everything else.
“Did I get it right?” Jun questions, feeling the confidence flowing through him falter under your thoughtful expression. “This is the sulcus? And the gyrus…”
You lower your attention back down to the sheep brain, realising he was pointing to a spot with the probe. 
“Hm, just…” You start, leaning in a bit closer to examine where he’s pointing to. With a sly smirk, you reach over to grasp his wrist lightly, slowly guiding his hand more accurately with the probe. Your warmth slips teasingly under his skin. “The sulcus is the little groove right here, and the gyrus is the ridge surrounding it. See it?”
Jun swears you’re doing this on purpose, and whatever it is, it’s working.
“Got it,” he mumbles, hoping you won’t be able to see the flush to his cheeks under the goggles. His eyes flicker between the brain and your face, noting the playful glint in your pupils that certainly isn’t from the fluorescent lighting of the lab room. “I see it now. Thanks.”
You let go of his wrist, still wearing that mischievous look at your lips, though it fades into something more genuine now. “You’re doing good, you know.”
Relief hits him from your words. He does feel way more comfortable, the entire lab becoming less daunting all because you were simply right here next to him. His mind momentarily flashes back to all what you’ve done for him𑁋from the tutoring, to the way you’ve been nothing but supportive and patient with him, before it all circles back to the mutual fondness blooming its way within the crevices of your hearts together.
He likes you, and you like him back. Jun still has no idea how this came to be, because he used to think he had no such chance with you. Yet now, he has the freedom to think about where he wants to take you on your first date.
The rest of the dissection goes by with ease. Slowly but surely, other students begin to clean up their workspace and submit their lab reports to Professor Lee, their tasks winding down as the lab session comes to a close. The lab starts to empty out as the minutes tick by, and it isn’t long until there’s just a few more students left𑁋you and Jun included.
“Here, I’ll finish up here,” You tell him, taking the brain into your hands without hesitation and placing it into a sealed bag for disposal later on. Then you take the dissection tools into your hands and walk off towards the sink to wash them, leaving Jun hanging in a bit of a daze. 
“I… What can I do then?” he asks, wanting to contribute still.
You turn back to him, humming in contemplation. 
“Let’s see… Disinfect the table, take off your gloves and goggles, and then…” Your lips quirk up again. “Just stand there and look cute. I’ll handle the rest.” 
The tips of his ears flush with heat as you casually sidle away from him and towards the sink. Jun shakes away the flutters in his stomach, though the corners of his lips tugs upwards as he works on cleaning up the table. 
Jun is already waiting by the door with his backpack on his shoulders as you finish up some tasks with Professor Lee. Once you get the signal that you’re free to leave, Jun feels the excitement pool down to his feet, a sense of accomplishment knowing that he was able to get through the one lab he dreaded most, and finished the class with a passing grade.
As you both exit the building, Jun pauses in his place, watching you continue to walk a bit without him.
“I owe you a date, you know,” he calls out to you with determination, though a pinch of nervousness still lingers.
You turn back to him curiously, and the way the sun catches on your face makes you appear more radiant above anything else. “A date, you say?” 
“Yeah, I…” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Before all of this, I told you I would owe you something for helping me, and well…” He lets his shoulder relax. “I want to take you on a date.” 
Jun watches the way a bunch of emotions seem to morph among your face. Even with knowing how you feel for him, he still braces himself for a different kind of response. 
Biting at the bottom of your lip, you step back up to him, and before he could fully process what’s happening, you answer him with a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek. Right at the corner of his lips, to be specific. Then you reach down and grip his wrist, tugging him gently towards you.
“You’re on,” You challenge, a playful sparkle to your eyes. “Let’s get going.”
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maiamore · 1 month ago
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MILLER ASSOCIATES
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak
Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k-ish
Summary: A one-night-stand with your boss at the firm you work in turns out not to be such a good idea. Tags: lawyer a/u, alcohol, colleagues to lovers type, breeding themes, able bodied reader, joel being a southern sweetheart, creampie, p-in-v, unprotected sex, mentions of anal, mutual pining, dual pov, dry humping
A/N: very much suits inspired, had to get this out of my head PREQUEL | MASTERLIST
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A rhythmic, low bass filled your senses, thrumming against your ears. All the chatter & laughter from the crowd blending into each other, forming one singular noise. 
The stickiness from the floor dragged across the ball of your strappy heels. Causing you to wince in displeasure. Thankfully, you’d had enough to drink so it’d dulled the pain of wearing heels all night—you supposed going to town on those cocktail shots wasn’t all that bad now. 
The growing chants of the countdown filled the air, the giddy excitement was almost contagious. 
Pushing past the wave of swaying bodies, you’d locked on to the figure ahead of you, the only sure thing in the nauseating strobe of lights that grounded you. Briefly, that figure disappeared within the crowds. A slight panic surged through you. 
You’d taken a couple steps forward, scanning the crowd. Just when you were on the verge of giving up, a warm hand guides you out with a swift tug by the back of your waist, pulling you against a leather clad wall—or well, chest. 
You blinked a few times. Joel, who was quietly ahead of you, gave you a look. Letting you step back a little. “Keep up.” He said. Or, you thought he said by the ways his lips moved. His hands assuredly tightened around your waist this time. He wasn’t going to lose you through the crowd again.
“Okay.” Your voice competed with the chaos around you—countdown timer flashing on all the screens situated in every corner of the room. The reality was bleary at best, you’d definitely drunk enough to scramble the rational side of your brain. 
He wasn’t looking at you anymore. You’d followed his gaze to the bar's back door. 
As soon as you’d stepped out of the bar, the chilly air outside hit you like a force. Sobering you up, barely. 
This was happening. 
Joel’s hands flattened against the back of your waist. Thumb soothing you from the decision you both made in the heat of the moment earlier. You could feel just how needy he was just by how touchy he was. 
This was happening. 
“Wait.” Your panicked voice interrupted his movements when he dipped his head to your level. “...Let’s..let’s just establish the situation before we actually do this.” You managed. Earning a confused look from him.
“I came on to you. And..I kissed you first.”
Deep brown eyes settled to look into yours. A slight scoff leaving his stupid pretty pouty lips. 
“This ain’t Law & Order, darlin’.”
Even with nothing but the residual glow blue neon signage illuminating above you both beneath the moonless skies, you could see it in his eyes that he’d been waiting. Way past his limits. His usually assured voice came out barely restrained. 
Joel could tell by your less than amused expression that you weren’t fuckin’ around. You needed an acknowledgement from him.
“Yeah.” Backtracking, humour lost in his words now. A much more complicated sentiment taking its place. 
 “Alright. Sounds good t’me.”
You’d exchanged a look of mutual understanding. As sure as you could’ve been with your current combined blood alcohol levels. The same hand on your waist gently turning your body around. 
That was how you found yourself getting fucked against the walls by your boss. 
6 Months Later
After that anomaly in your offices’ New Year get together nearly half a year ago, you both swore you’d never bring it up again. It was just too complicated to unpack you said—at least that’s what you told yourself.  
He’d been more than happy to oblige. Which stung somehow.  Maybe you were just too afraid to deal with the implications of what allowed you both to indulge in something that was hugely just the tip of the iceberg. Or maybe he just didn’t want to create a workplace imbalance. Maybe. The thought had always gnawed at you, the idea that he might’ve regretted whatever happened even though he showed no indication of it.
Tension ran high in the law offices of Miller Associates. There’d been some sort of situation. You figured. You weren’t all that concerned, yet.
“You didn’t hear?” An obnoxious noise crept up from behind you. Interrupting your concentration. “What?” A sharp gasp filled your lips when your chair had swiveled, your colleague, Serena, leaning down towards you. “The case you’re working on! With Mr Miller.” Her voice a mere whisper. “Someone fucked up. Big time. The settlement was voided.”
A chill ran down your spine. “What? When?” You said a little too quickly. Grabbing your phone in a haste. A single notification glowing on your phone.
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Fuck.
“Dunno. I just heard Mr Miller was at Wheeler’s trying to work out a deal. Someone leaked information—”
You were on your feet even before she could finish her sentence. This was officially your problem now. You’d been on the case with Joel for weeks.
What was supposed to be a straightforward division of assets—a separation of a couple's joint built company—quickly unraveled. Someone had leaked sensitive information to the opposing counsel's client, costing the firm its leverage in negotiating the settlement.
“Get Leighton out. Make shit up. Do whatever the hell & buy us some fuckin’ time.”
Joel’s voice carried through the halls. A silent look shot towards you to drop whatever pointless errand the other associates tasked you with. Warily, you trailed after him. It was a rare sight to witness Joel frayed. 
His normally slicked back curly hair was visibly in disarray. 
So he looked perfect even when he was about to lose his shit. Great. 
You’d noticed the lack of his tailored jacket or vest. Navy sleeves rolled up snug around his forearms. 
This wasn’t like him at all. 
He dragged his hand down his scruffed jaw as he remained on the phone. Not even looking back to see if you were following. He just knew. 
“Need you on this.” He’d gestured to the stack of documents that lay on the edge of his wide dark oak wood desks. Bringing the phone up to rest against the edge of his shoulder. 
You took a few steps ahead to pick up the stack of papers. The initial settlement documents for the Leighton versus Anders proceedings.
“So you want me to look through it again, find the discrepancies. Get references—“
When he’d finally put the phone down to look at you, you were already focused. Your gaze hadn’t lifted while you flipped through the papers. 
“No need for the subtitles, darlin’. Do what you have t’do. Get me somethin’ by 11.”
That frustratingly smooth southern drawl in his tone made it sting even more when he’d rendered you an idiot that easily just for asking.
Nodding, you glanced over to your watch with a tilt of your wrist. 4pm. So two hours till the end of work and another four hours tomorrow. Seemed pretty doable. 
“Okay. I’ll get back to you by the morning.” 
“No. 11pm, tonight.”
“What?” A breath of disbelief that blended into your exclamation left your lips. He hadn’t responded. Merely raising a brow at your confusion. 
“I can’t. I have plans—“
“So cancel.” 
He’d said it so matter of factly like it was the most natural next step, you’d brought your hand down. The papers crumpling slightly in your grip. It didn’t help that some part of you admired how easily he got people to do as he wished. Well. You’d have known that first hand. Evidently. 
You couldn’t trust yourself to speak then. It would probably start with something like listen here you fucking inconsiderate shit.  
Mumbling a begrudging got it, you got started as soon as you head back to your cubicle. 
JOEL
Joel Miller was a man who’d thrived on setting specified routines for himself, following rules set in place in his life. He had to. It was what kept him sane despite everything that came his way. 
Wake up, 0700. Shower, 0715. Breakfast with his daughter, 0800. Office by 0900. 
He was off rhythm today. It was only the start of his bad mood. He couldn’t kiss his little girl goodbye before she headed off to school, skipped breakfast and had to drive over to the other end of Manhattan to deal with a literal growing trash fire. 
The deal was called off by 0800. He’d lost one hundred and twenty five thousand dollars by 0830. 
He couldn’t lose his shit just yet. It was his last name, his fathers legacy, staring back at him in bolded letters of the building. 
He was aware that his intense presence had everyone on high alert, though some part of him was grateful he supposed that when it came down to it, his employees were on the ball. 
And then…there was you. 
Fluttering around helping everyone. Back and forth, through offices of his associates, to the secretaries. Arms always full with stacks of papers you delivered even when you didn’t have to. 
Six months ago, you’d officially wrecked the part of his life he’d carefully built walls around. If he was being honest, you already had two years ago when you’d joined the firm as a paralegal. 
“So you want me to look through it again, find the discrepancies. Get references—“
Good girl. 
He thought. He’d known the sort of person you were. Always compartmentalising. He wasn’t sure if you’d thought about him the way he’d thought about you still. Fixated on the little furrow on your brows as you concentrated on the documents. Lips slightly pursed. It wasn’t that long ago he’d had the privilege of feeling the heady sweetness and the softness of your lips. 
“I can’t. I have plans—“
Yeah. I know you had, sweetheart. 
He’d heard it all when the other ladies, in the break room, had been squealing at the fact that Marcus from Mergers & Acquisitions had asked you out at the cafeteria. 
Fuck. Did you need a probable cause to fire jerkoff, always wearing suspenders, Marcus? He probably could. Shouldn’t though. 
Admittedly, he had some sort of satisfaction that he actually had a reason to keep you around his orbit. 
PRESENT
It wasn’t like you wanted to go on that date with Marcus. He was a little too egotistical for your tastes, always flaunting his Dior clothes and that obviously second-hand Patek Philippe watch like it was his entire personality. But you were at your wit's end. You needed to stop moping and pining over the one amazing sexual encounter you had all year.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms above your head. The lights flickered overhead, casting harsh shadows across your face. The glow lulled you—finally allowing yourself some reprieve with a brief shut-eye.
“So..so pretty.” His voice came out in rough whispers against the back of your earlobes. It sent chills down your spine. 
He’d hoisted you back up against him with a grunt. You could feel his thick cock filling you up even deeper. A rough hand coming up to cradle around your forehead so it wouldn’t have to touch the walls. Even when you had been so out of it, his attentiveness heightened every nerve ending of your body. 
His other hand slid downwards to give your clit much needed attention with a swipe of his thumb. “Been so good f’me—…ah..fuck. Shit.” A sharp hiss leaving his lips when you’d clenched around his cock subconsciously in overstimulation. 
You couldn’t trust yourself to speak. Feeling his fingers tip you over the edge. Whining against the arm that held you firm. “Can’t—…t’much..”
“I know baby, you can give me another one, can’t you?” You could feel the purrr in his words. Gently pressing over the bulge on your stomach where he could feel how deep he was fucking into your soft pussy. Praises littered into your skin that felt like kisses. You nodded with renewed desire to give this man anything he'd asked for. 
You’d lifted your head up from where it’d rested against your palm. Snapping out of your daydreams at the familiar voice calling your name. 
You blinked a few times, registering the office’s law library’s attendant. “Are you okay, honey? I have to leave now.”
You offered a polite smile. “I’m good, see you tomorrow Mrs Balmaceda.” 
You’d looked back down at the piles of books across the desk. The coldness of the library—evident by the building's foggy condensation outside the windows. Your exhaustion was finally catching up to you in the worst ways possible. Briefly glancing around at the amber overhead lights, illuminating the books tucked in large floor to ceiling bookshelves. 
You’d inwardly sighed at the lack of references you had yet to find—grabbing the paper, scribbled with names of references that Joel had neatly written on it. You pushed past the attached ladders.
This was going to be a long night. 
“This book..isn’t even supposed to be here.” You grumbled at the lack of care of the people who’d haphazardly shoved books into the shelves in places it didn’t belong. A stack grew in your arms, piling up the wrongly filed books. Taking it upon yourself to reshelve it. 
“Are you supposed to be the librarian now?”
You’d nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice from behind you. Books nearly slipping out of your hands, you’d acted quickly enough to stop them. Twisting your body to see the intruder. 
JOEL
“Make sure she eats dinner and packs her books fore’ bed. Thanks Tommy…’ppreciate it.”
He’d ended the call, leaning back in his chair with a fist over his eyes. Not a single thing had gone the way he needed it to. He pushed the stacks of paperwork on his desk, blue ink that curved with the initials of your name on a document stared back at him. Confirmation that you were quite literally the only one other than him to have read the settlement papers.
He covers it with a stack of files. As though he didn’t quite want to face the truth behind it.
“Anything to show me yet?”
Barely able to register the object coming towards you, you awkwardly managed to catch the can of black coffee hurled towards you. Even with his odd way of showing it, you felt it. The care. 
You’d trailed behind him. Eyeing the slump in his shoulders now. “Yeah. Couple of things in the settlement we can take advantage of because of the disparity,” you explained. 
The sound of the can flicking open caught your attention. Watching as Joel took a swig. You swallowed. Holding the unopened can tightly in your palms. 
Instinctively, your tongue darted out to wet your lower lip as your eyes lingered on the subtle movement of his adam's apple, rising and falling with each swallow. Your gaze trailed downward, drawn to his collarbone, partially revealed by the undone top buttons of his shirt.
You would’ve told him that you didn’t like black coffee. But you’d pretty much lost the window to say anything by now. That didn’t matter. You needed something for how dry your throat felt. 
You’d open your can of coffee. Taking sips of the bitter liquid to quench the metaphorical desire building in you. 
“Looks good enough. Two or three more references would do.”  
He’d noticed the brief look of disgust on your face as you took another sip. Raising his brow slightly at your conformity. “Not much of a coffee person, are you?”
“Not really, no.” You admit. Sitting down across him by the chairs. He’d been flipping through the stacks of papers with you. Hastening the process a little more. 
A quiet silence filled the air between you both. You’d have been okay not to acknowledge it. But Joel didn’t want to let it. 
“What did you do?” He offered after a couple minutes of silence. You furrowed your brows at his words. “...Over the weekend, I mean.”
Since when did he care for small talk? 
“Nothing much. I’ve been studying for the LSAT’s again.” He’d hummed in acknowledgment to your words. Observing you and your little quirks. 
He’d noticed. You had a preference for the blue sticky tabs in any paperwork you did for him. When you’d been really concentrated, you opted not to speak. 
“Again?” He questions. 
“Again.” You repeated. The word leaves a bitter note on your tongue. “I’m not…I don’t test well.”
That earned a frown from him. He’d figured you got a little twitchy at times, but you had heart. 
“What about you?” You’d tried to fill in the awkward silence after that. Trying to change the subject now. “What’d you do?”
It was as though your question caught him off guard. As though you’d interrupted his line of questioning that seemed to build up to something. “A play—…my daughter had a play, in her high school.”
You’d actually lifted your head up at his words. You were paying attention now. Something about your silence prompted him to continue. A daughter. You didn’t know he had a daughter.
“I was thinkin’ these kids were going to do some..Shakespeare thing. And then—...Sarah walked on stage as some blonde girl. From that movie.”
“That movie?” You repeated. Brows knit together. 
He lets out a sigh. “The movie.” He repeats. His expression mirroring yours, hand gesturing vaguely as though to mortalise the words in his head. “Girl gets hit by a bus at the end…” He manages, in deeper thought. His thumb swipes the bottom of his lips in concentration.
You weren’t sure if you were paying attention after ‘girl gets his by bus.’ He may as well have had a sign on his forehead to say, “kiss me please” with the way he’d been bringing attention to it.
“I wanna say…it was somethin’ bout’ some girl named Caddy. Kayde?”
You were confused at first. Eyes widening. 
“Mean Girls?”
A sigh of relief left his lips. As though it would’ve bugged him all night for not being able to remember. “That’s the one.” He says finally. 
An amused scoff left your lips, the combined laughter of yours and his filled the silence in the room. Ignoring the fact that high schools nowadays didn’t quite care about literary classics, you were more focused on the fact that Joel seemed chillingly human. It was breaking through the carefully built mental barriers you had in place. Your ability to shove any lingering feelings—with the excuse he was just your boss didn’t quite matter anymore.
You didn’t realize how much you’d been staring at his every movement—how he just looked softer. 
A considerable amount of time had passed, the both of you working together in sync to get the last of what you needed. You’d been eyeing Joel, his weariness evident in the constant furrow of his brows—or in the way a few curls had fallen effortlessly against his forehead.
You shouldn’t be thinking about him like this anymore. What was it about a man looking so damn attractive when their life seemed to be falling apart?
“How did things go with Leighton?” He inquires. Rudely interrupting your thoughts.
You’d stopped for a moment. Why was he asking this now?
You swallowed thickly. Feeling your nerves fray. Your current demeanor wasn’t lost on Joel. He’d been looking at you carefully. Despite your best efforts, Joel studied you enough to understand your behavior in his entire time knowing you. 
He'd spent all day untangling the mess, he was asking this out of courtesy at this point.
“Good…there weren't any issues.”
“I’m askin’ you, since you were the last person to see her.” 
“..I—“
When he’d repeated your name firmly, you tensed. It was far too late to keep up with hiding the fact now. He just wanted to hear it from you directly.
That you were the reason why the initial settlement was thrown out the window after you told Leighton about Ander’s infidelity yesterday. It was purposefully withheld from her during the proceedings.
But then…you’d seen Anna and how tired she looked. One look at her and you knew that she deserved all the facts. 
“Tell me you didn’t, sweetheart.” The way he said it churned your guts. Of course he’d already been aware–some part of him wanted to believe otherwise.
You’d pressed your lips into a thin line. Not daring to look up. You could feel the way he’d been looking at you. How disappointed he would’ve been. 
When you had looked up, however, disappointment wasn’t what you found. In the times you’d known Joel, you’d observed him and his little quirks. 
You’d noticed. When he’d tried to practice patience in withholding his anger. His jaw ticked. 
“I thought I was doing the right thing.”
The sigh he let out had you looking at the ground. It was a feeling not unlike the sinking weight of having utterly disappointed your parents. “You went behind my back.” His tone devoid of any kindness. 
“I did the right thing.” You repeated. Firmer now.
“You’re fuckin’ deluded if you think you did the right thing, darlin’.”
That stung. Far more than you’d expected. Joel’s anger had been simmering over the edge. Minutes from saying something he shouldn’t have. It wasn’t just betrayal he’d felt, it was his naïveté in trusting you completely. 
You knew you’d made a mistake. You knew. You should’ve apologized and moved on because he was right. But the words spilling out from you was anything but. The venom laced in his tone was not something you liked in the slightest. It’d rubbed you raw, a blooming pain that bled through the wake of your recklessness.
You’d gotten up abruptly. Grabbing the list of documents you’d needed from the archive room. The hastened clacks of your heels against the carpeted floors was soon joined by the low thud of Joel’s oxfords.
“You know.” He began, his voice trailing closer behind you.
“Through all this bullshit I still expected some level of humility from you at the very least.”
His footsteps grew closer. It was clear that he had no plans to let you get away with everything. Not without an acknowledgement to what you’d done. 
You’d attempted to shut the door behind you, but Joel’s hands came up to wedge through the archive rooms doors to let himself in.
Your pace quickened, stepping into the room tucked in the corner of the library. Situating yourself between the metal racks. Stacked with dusty boxes of old case files. Barely lit by fluorescent lighting that hadn’t been changed in years.
He’d repeated your name. A little louder now. 
“The hell do you want me to say?” You snapped back finally. 
“Something that isn’t an excuse.”
You felt your own anger take the place of the supposed humility you were supposed to feel. You hated this side of him, pushing, cornering, intimidating people into submitting. You rifled through the boxes. Feeling his quiet presence overwhelm you, demanding an answer from you. Words bubbling up like word vomit, you couldn’t stop them from spilling.
“It’s not an excuse.”
“Are you that much of a sociopath that you’re sacrificing ethics and morals over getting a fucking payout for the firm?” You breathed out. Whipping your head around to look at him. “Is that what you wanna hear?”
“This isn’t about ethics or morals!” He’d raised his voice. Louder than he’d intended. No, he was more hurt that you didn’t trust him enough to handle it. Didn’t trust him enough to let him know before going behind his back. He would’ve done anything you’d asked. But you hadn’t.
“I should’ve known better than to trust a damn paralegal with helping me.” He’d felt regret even as he spoke, but he couldn’t help it. “I was fucking naive to think you were more. That you had something—“
“I was a goddamn fool to think that some kid who couldn’t even pass the LSATs could be trusted.”
Your heart twisted at his words.
“Did that make you feel better, Joel?” Your tone was laced with an equal amount of bitterness. “Come on. Tell me what else you fucking feel.” Challenging him. He had a feeling this wasn’t all you’d held back on. 
The air went still. He’d known he’d gone too far when he’d said it. But you weren’t upset at the fact that you’d both been exchanging words that were intended to hurt each other, but because all you’d managed to say were shit neither of you meant.
All you could think about was how you’d felt. About him. About all the feelings you’d forced yourself to swallow down. 
“I don't need to hear it. I don’t need to hear how much you’ve regretted it.”
“You know damn well that isn’t what I’m talkin’ bout’.”
Did you regret it? Did you regret sleeping with me the same way you regret trusting me with the case?
The unsaid words that couldn’t leave your lips hadn’t gone past him. Despite it all—the residual anger was still there—Being clouded by his wants that bubbled up whenever he was around you. The want that was being amplified now that all he could hear was your breathing and his.  
Your eyes traced his features carefully. Not being able to swallow down the anger and humiliation that churned in you. Threatening to consume you whole. You knew he blamed himself for how you seemed to be falling apart. It was all in the subtle furrow of his brows, the faint twitch beneath his eyes, and the way his deep brown eyes locked with yours. 
He’d stepped forward the same time you had. 
Hands coming down to maneuver you against the shelves. His hand gripping around your waist, dipping his head lower to finally kiss you. It wasn’t slow, or careful. He kissed you like he’d been wanting to for months. You met his kisses with the same intensity—stumbling backwards to catch your footing. Both hands cupped around the base of his neck. You tilted your head to match his movements, the weight of his palm cradling your jaw securely.
Not giving you a chance to catch your breath. You sighed into his lips slowly & he’d drunk it all in—your lips slotting perfectly against his. He’d stepped backwards, panting, like you were. Looking for a sign that you didn’t want this. You’d clumsily yanked his tie off, answering that question for him.
It was quiet at first. All but the rustling of him throwing his jacket off and you attempting to unbutton your blouse in unison—You didn’t like the silence. The last time you’d fucked he was vocal, with praises singing into your skin. 
So when he’d finally grabbed you, legs slotting between your thighs, your gasp broke the practiced silence. 
He was a man on a mission. He needed to make you come, needed to drink in the sweet saccharine noises you made. The very thing he missed in those six months that haunted him whenever he’d heard you speak. 
He tugged you tighter, rocking you against his thigh. Encouraging you to rut against him. You’d whined in his grasp. Your hips tilting to grind against the fabric of his slacks. Tipping your head back, the ache grew. The friction wasn’t enough. This wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel him. 
His bigger hands casing your jaw—tutting at your struggle. “…Sh—…shh shh. I know. I know.”
You gripped around his forearms. Tip toeing, you tried to angle yourself just right so your pussy could feel the friction of his thigh properly. Your hips stuttered, feeling him notch your needy pussy right against him with his guidance. He’d tilted your jaw up so you'd maintain eye contact with him. Your lips parted wider, feeling the steady pleasure build in you, your clit stimulated in all the right ways.
“Needy baby, workin’ so damn hard—“ He’d leaned in, tracing the curves of his nose down your jawline. “C’mon sweetheart, need you to come f’me, need you to feel good.” Muttering against your neck. It’d sent shivers down your spine, drinking in the praises that had followed after what he’d said.
“Look at you, pretty…pretty..pretty, pretty.” His wanton sighs against your neck. 
His other hand sliding upwards, kneading your tits over your clothes. You’d whined a little when he’d lifted up your blouse. Tugging your lacy bra downwards to free your tits. Head lowering so he could suckle on one. Low vibrations of the rumble in his own grunt of pleasure in seeing you feel good reverberated against you. Steadily massaging the softness while his other hand thumbed over your nipples. 
How was it possible that this man knew you more than you’d known yourself?
You’d felt the build up hitting you faster than you’d realized. Your thighs had given in—quivering in the wake of your release. “Atta girl.” He’d leaned in and gave you an appreciative kiss, smiling against your lips. His palms circled around your hips to turn you over before you’d known what had hit you. 
Your head rested against the cool metal of the shelves, catching your breath from the intensity. His thumb traced over the dampness of your panty hose. Groaning at the sensation of how turned on you were just by grinding pathetically against him.
“This wet already, desperate lil’ thing.” He mumbled. Placing a few kisses against your pulse point.
A hand slid down to knead the globe of your ass. The sight of you earned a hum of admiration from behind you. If only you’d known just how many nights he’d spent, fucking his fist, thinking about the sight of your pretty ass fucked to the hilt that night.
He hooked a finger over your panty hose, clicking his tongue at just how inaccessible it’d been. You felt a cold gust of air followed by a ripping sound. You didn’t have time to reprimand him when the sensation of two fingers tentatively slid up your clit, down to your slick folds—effectively shutting you up. Wiggling your hips backwards, you attempted to urge him deeper. 
He tutted once more. Pressing down on your lower back to hold you in place. Reminding you on patience. Not that you even cared at this point. Your eyes widened at the sensation of his thick fingers finally sliding into your aching cunt, scissoring through the tight valleys of your velvety warm pussy. You’d let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
You found yourself whining. Growing frustrated. He’d let you move back against him, your pussy sucking his fingers back in everytime he pulled it out just a little. Your senses hyper focused on chasing the release you felt yourself closing in to once more. A loud clunk caused you to snap your head up, catching the sight of him unbuckling his belt over your shoulders with a half-lidded look. 
“Back t’reality sweetheart? Ain’t done with you, far from it.” He gripped around his lanyard to toss his security keycard over his shoulder. Holding you secure and snug on both sides of your waist.
He could come just from the sight alone.
You felt the heat of his cock slide against your folds, gathering the slick that had him slipping back out every time he’d attempted to fuck his tip into your pussy—Earning a gasp from both Joel and yourself when he did manage to notch his cockhead in.
“Fuck me, sweetheart, it’s a slip’n’slide out here.” 
You looked over your shoulder. Frowning through your fucked out gaze. He chuckled, a sound that only made you throb all the more. He’d raised a hands up in defense at your glare.
He guided the base of his cock with a firm grip—feeding you his cock. Inch by inch. 
You gripped tightly against the shelf. Eyes rolled back at just the sensation of him filling you up after he’d been such a goddamn tease. You’d managed to catch him off guard by grinding backwards, he hissed at the tightness of your pussy, choking him like vice, forcing him to bottom out in you.
A low groan leaves his lips at the sight. Head lolled to the side at how perfect you fit against him. His hips began to rock steadily around you, not even having to move much with how you were eagerly bouncing against him. 
He smirks at the sight, leaning back to observe. Allowing you to set the pace. Gently rubbing down both sides of your hips as a soothing gesture. 
Joel couldn't handle it any longer. He needed to fuck you like you deserved. 
“Still owe you an apology, sweetheart.”
You’d let out a sharp gasp when he’d tugged you harshly up against him. His arm coming up across your chest. Anchoring you in place before he starts to jackhammer into your pussy.
“F-Fuck, Joel!”
He gripped underneath your jaw, tilting your head back–kissing you sloppily, drowning your reverent moans into his mouth. He’d set the pace, fucking you hard until the shelves rattled underneath your combined weight. His sweat mixed into yours in the almost intolerable heat your bodies emitted.
You’d probably come again, you didn’t know, didn’t care. Feeling Joel’s grunts and gasps was enough to send you over the edge. 
“Tight pussy’s gonna be the death of me.” He gasped against your neck. Nose rubbing against your cheeks. 
“M’gonna come.” He managed, barely. “Please baby, tell me I can come inside you.”
You mewled at his words. The breathy way he’d practically begged you for permission. Grinding against him in finality–you nodded desperately when two fingers rubbed against your clit. 
“Yes, f-fuck, yes.”
With renewed fervour, he’d buried his head into the crook of your neck—rutting into you until you felt his hips stutter. Feeling his heavy breathing as he held you snug against him, your smaller hands gripped around his hand that was flattened against your chest. He could feel you pulsing in your own release around him and that was enough to tip him over the edge.
He grunted into your shoulder, pumping you with ropes of his hot come. Filling you deep. 
He’d pulled out of your pussy after a few seconds with a slick pop, his thumb swiping against your entrance, two fingers stuffing the come dribbling out back into you. You’d briefly glanced back to see a lazy smile curled up one side of his lips.
He leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Firm hands adjusting your skirt back into place.
“C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”
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