#god i hope noone but us reads it

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[bellflower-goat]

anyways fucking. fucking hell

[chosok-amo]

Hi hi! I love your satosugu x reader fics so much that I love to read-read a lot of them! So i saw ur requests are open and I was wondering if I could request a satosugu x reader where reader got food poisoning and her boyfriends are just taking care of her and nursing back to health? Thank you!🫶

FOOD POISON : UNITY OF HELL : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

day off, clothes off, sleep until noon, take-out and relaxing day: that’s the original plan, but they didn’t notice among the food they’ve ordered, there is one food that would make you go through hell.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, fluff, crack, GAY SATOSUGUUUUUU, you screaming at them for asking stupid questions while you are in pain lol.

i’ve never had food poisoning before, no one is closer to me ever had one, so i don’t really know how it works and how the reaction is supposed to be, but i’m trying my best with some research and i hope i’m doing your request a justice. (and reader have to be dramatic, as always)

it was a lazy sunday noon, and you, along with your two boyfriends, were just waking up from an unusually long sleep. the sun was peeking through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, but none of you had any intention of getting up right away. the week had been exhausting, filled with missions, work, and meetings, but today, there was nothing—no obligations, no expectations, just the three of you together in the comfort of your shared home.

none of you had bothered with clothes either; it was one of those days where the world outside didn’t exist. you were in your underwear while your boyfriends in their black boxer, hugging there body perfectly, sprawled lazily on the couch in the living room, just enjoying each other’s company. the decision to cook was quickly dismissed as too much effort, especially since the three of you had been sleeping for what felt like forever. instead, you decided to order food, something simple and satisfying, and now you were all gathered around the coffee table, your meals spread out in front of you.

you sat in between geto and gojo, your legs comfortably stretched out across their laps. the atmosphere was serene, peaceful, the only sounds being the occasional clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversation as you talked about nothing in particular. gojo was leaning back against the cushions, his arm resting lazily over your shoulders while he occasionally brought a bite of food to his mouth. geto was on your other side, much more focused on the food, though he’d glance over at you every now and then, offering a small smile or a teasing comment.

“i could get used to this,” you sighed contentedly, taking a sip of your drink before reaching for another bite of your meal. “no work, no missions… just the three of us doing absolutely nothing.”

geto laughed. “and waking up at noon,” he pointed out, glancing at his phone’s clock and taking another bite of his rice. gojo groaned. “hey, it’s already been so long since we were able to stay in bed this late. don’t judge.” he pinched your thigh and nuzzled his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath.

“we’re so gonna regret this on monday, though.“ you could feel his warm breath on your neck as he spoke. geto leaned forward to grab his drink, and gojo took the opportunity to slide his hands over your body, shamelessly tracing the curves of your figure.

“god, you look so delicious, baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, and you could feel your skin prickling under his touch. geto shifted a little, leaning back against the couch pillows.

“you’re not gonna leave anything for me?” he smirked, his gaze fixed on your bare legs in his lap.

you were just about to respond, maybe throw a witty remark at them, but before you could, geto spoke again—this time with his mouth full of food. bits of rice slipped out of his mouth and landed right on your hand.

“ugh, suguru! disgusting!” you groaned, pulling your hand away from him as you stared at the food that had just fallen onto your skin. “don’t talk when your mouth’s full! gross!”

gojo chuckled at your reaction, his lips still lingering near your ear. “oh, come on, it's not that bad.” he teasingly tried to brush the food away, but only ended up smearing it across your skin.

“oh, is that what we’re grossed out by now?” gojo chuckled, watching with amusement as you tried to wipe the rice off. his hand continued its journey up your body, his fingers slipping under the elastic of your bra.

“I’ve done a lot grosser things to you before, love,” he continued with a wink, and geto snickered.

gojo glanced over at geto, and his signature smirk returned to his face. “y’know, it looks kind of tasty.” he casually brought your hand to his mouth, his tongue licking the food off your skin.

you groaned again, rolling your eyes as gojo smeared the food even more across your skin. “ugh, not in front of my food!” you protested, trying to wiggle away from his touch, but his grip was firm as his fingers teasingly slipped under the elastic of your bra.

gojo’s comment about doing “grosser things” made you shoot him a glare, though you couldn't stop the heat creeping up your neck. “you two are seriously disgusting,” you muttered, though your words lacked any real bite as geto snickered beside you, clearly enjoying your reaction.

before you could pull your hand away, gojo brought it to his mouth, his tongue lazily licking the food off your skin. “mmm, tastes good,” he winked, his lips brushing over your knuckles, the playful grin never leaving his face.

“gross!” you groaned, pulling your hand back quickly. “not while I’m eating!” you swatted at both of them, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust. “you two are nasty, seriously.”

they both laughed, clearly unfazed by your complaints, and you shook your head, unable to keep the small smile from tugging at your lips. as irritating as they could be, you loved how effortlessly playful things were between the three of you.

“aww, don’t play innocent.” gojo chuckled, his hand running up your side until he reached your chest. he gave your breast a firm squeeze through the thin layer of the bra. “you’re a pretty dirty girl yourself, y’know?” he teased. “remember what you did a few nights ago, baby?”

geto shifted a little in his seat, his eyes flicking between you two. “yeah, i remember that too,” he chimed in, a smirk on his face. “quite a messy night it was.”

you blushed at their words, feeling the heat creeping up your neck again. “ugh, you guys…” you tried to protest, but it was difficult to stay annoyed with their playful banter, especially with gojo’s hand still exploring your body.

“can’t i just eat my lunch without you two acting like a bitch in heat?” you huffed, trying to keep a straight face, which only made them let out another round of laughs.

“well, aren’t you getting all feisty now.” gojo’s hand continued to wander over your body, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “that’s a little different than the usual you crying out our names, ain’t it?”

geto chuckled, leaning a little closer. “c’mon, baby, we just want to play a little.” he slid his hand up your leg, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear. “you know we can’t resist you when you look so damn delicious.”

“especially when you’re wearing just your underwear like that,” gojo murmured, his hand sliding under your bra, his thumb running over your nipple. “mmm, you’re making it really hard for us to behave, you know.”

geto’s hand now grabbed your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. “yeah, it’s getting kind of difficult to hold back.” he leaned a little closer, his lips brushing your neck. “we can just leave these leftovers here for later.”

as gojo’s hand continued its mischievous journey over your body and geto’s fingers teasingly traced the edge of your underwear, you suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. your stomach twisted uncomfortably, the once-enjoyable meal now making you feel queasy. without warning, the teasing and playful atmosphere shifted as you quickly put your food down.

“wait, hold on...” you muttered, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. “ugh, i feel like i’m gonna throw up.”

both gojo and geto immediately picked up on the change in your demeanor, their teasing grins transforming into expressions of concern.

“babe, what’s wrong?” gojo’s hand moved to your back, gently rubbing circles across your skin. “are you okay?”

geto’s hand squeezed your thigh, his gaze fixed on your face. “yeah, you look a little pale all of a sudden.” he reached out to press his hand against your forehead. “you feeling sick?”

you barely managed to get a word out before a sharp, intense pain shot through your stomach, making you groan and fall to your knees on the soft carpet, your arms instinctively wrapping around your stomach. the suddenness of the pain left you gasping for breath as you pressed your hands to your abdomen, hoping the pressure would help ease the discomfort.

“fuck…” you hissed through clenched teeth, your head dropping forward as another wave of pain hit. you looked up at gojo and geto, both of their faces now filled with alarm, hovering over you.

“what the fuck did we just eat?” you groaned, your voice strained as you tried to make sense of what was happening. “did one of you poison me or something?”

“hey, hey, easy!” gojo knelt down next to you, his hands supporting you. “are you in pain? where does it hurt?

geto was on your other side, his hand on your back, his eyes scanning your face. “yeah, try to stay calm,” he said, his voice tight with concern. “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

gojo glanced over at geto. “we all ate the same thing, there’s no way it’s poisoning.” he turned his attention back to you, his expression urgent. “just focus on breathing, babe.”

but their concern did nothing to ease the pain or your growing frustration. you managed to lift your head and glare at geto through the discomfort. “oh yeah? stay calm?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “how about you be in my shoes for a second, and we’ll see how calm the fuck down _you_ are, huh?”

the sharpness in your tone made geto blink, caught off guard by your sass even though he was so used to it. gojo stifled a chuckle despite the situation, clearly trying not to make things worse, but you could feel the tension rising.

“sorry, sorry,” geto muttered, his hand still on your back, though a sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “i just don’t want you to panic…”

you groaned again, doubling over slightly as the pain surged, but the sarcasm came through even stronger. “well, too late for that, genius.” you couldn’t help it. the pain made your patience nonexistent, and though you knew they were only trying to help, you couldn’t resist snapping at them. “oh, god, i feel like i'm going to throw up.”

both men exchanged glances as you continued to snap at them, and as much as they both disliked seeing you in pain and the situation at hand, they couldn’t help but silently find the way you were acting a little cute.

geto’s hand continued to rub your back, trying to soothe you. “calm down, sweetheart, everything is going to be alright,” he whispered. “deep breaths, okay?”

gojo still knelt in front of you, his eyes scanning your body for any signs of what could be causing this. “are you sure it’s your stomach?” you were curled over, the pain relentless as you tried to catch your breath. as gojo and geto exchanged glances, trying to comfort you, you could feel their silent amusement beneath their concern, which only made your irritation flare even more. geto’s hand on your back was supposed to be soothing, but the words “calm down” coming out of his mouth felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“calm down? calm down?” you muttered sarcastically under your breath, shooting another glare his way. “yeah, sure, let me just ‘calm down’ while my stomach feels like it’s being ripped apart. genius advice.”

gojo, still kneeling in front of you with that worried-but-trying-to-figure-this-out look on his face, glanced at your stomach and asked, “are you sure it’s your stomach?”

you shot him a look so sharp he actually blinked in surprise. “i don’t know, satoru, maybe ask me one more time and see if you can meet my hand when i slap the shit out of you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you groaned again, curling further until your forehead was practically pressed into the carpet.

both of them were quiet for a moment, taken aback by your sass, but you could feel their soft chuckles vibrating around you, despite the seriousness of the situation. for a brief moment, they were too stunned to say anything. they were used to your sarcasm and sass, but this was a bit more than usual, even for you. gojo was caught completely off guard by your sharp response, while geto tried to suppress a smile at your stubbornness.

despite the worrying situation, they found it amusing how even in pain and suffering, you were still as feisty as ever. they knew you were dealing with a lot, yet you couldn't just show vulnerability—you always had to put on a tough front.

gojo leaned in a little bit, his hand gently rubbing your leg. “babe, i understand you’re in pain right now, but don’t lash out on us.” his voice was gentle, yet stern. “we’re just trying to help.”

geto knelt beside you, his hand still on your back, but the smile was now gone from his lips. “he’s right,” he said, glancing over at gojo. “you need to calm down a little. we can’t figure out what’s wrong if you’re yelling at us.”

“sorry,” you muttered weakly through gritted teeth between groans, the pain nearly unbearable now. “i think i’m gonna throw up… again,” you managed to say, your voice shaky, but your usual attitude still slipped through. “just… get me to the bathroom, please..”

at your words, a wave of worry washed over both men’s faces. without wasting any time, gojo scooped you up effortlessly in his arms, while geto hurried ahead to the bathroom, clearing the way.

“don’t worry,” gojo muttered as he carried you to the bathroom. “we’re right here. you’re going to be okay, baby.”

geto waited by the toilet, his hands ready to hold your hair back. he exchanged a worried glance with gojo before turning back to you. as soon as gojo rushed you into the bathroom and lowered you near the toilet, you barely had time to brace yourself before everything came up. your hands gripped tightly around the edge of the toilet as your body convulsed, throwing up with such intensity it left you breathless. you slumped onto the floor, your body weak from the sudden surge.

both gojo and geto knelt either side of you, their expressions a mix of worry and helplessness as they watched you retching into the toilet. gojo's hand rubbed your back, trying to offer what little comfort he could, while geto held back your hair.

"it's gonna be alright, babe," gojo reassured you, his voice gentle as he tried to keep you calm. "take deep breaths. you're doing great."

geto handed you a glass of water, his gaze never leaving you. “here, rinse your mouth after. it should help.” as you leaned against the toilet, shaking and breathless, they both stayed by your side, their support unwavering. gojo's hand continued to rub your back slowly, while geto gently placed a damp washcloth on your forehead to wipe away the sweat.

“you think this is just food poisoning?” geto asked, his voice low, glancing over at gojo. “she hasn’t eaten anything we haven't, though, right?”

gojo shook his head, a deep frown on his face. “i don't know. it's not like her to get this sick.”

after what felt like an eternity of being slumped over the toilet, the nausea finally began to subside. you stayed still for a moment, taking shallow breaths to make sure the worst had passed. with a shaky hand, you reached for the flush button, your fingers fumbling as you pressed it, the sound of the toilet swirling away the evidence of your sickness.

you sighed heavily, resting your head and back against the cool porcelain for a moment, feeling utterly drained. “well, that was fun,” you muttered sarcastically, voice hoarse from the vomiting.

gojo’s hand was still gently rubbing your back, his touch grounding, and geto carefully wiped your face with the damp washcloth, the coolness of it offering a little relief.

“you think you’re done?” gojo asked softly, his voice calm but still tinged with concern as he looked down at you.

“yeah, i think so,” you sighed, finally managing to sit up a little straighter, though your body still felt weak. “whatever that was, it seems to be over... for now.”

as you slowly sat up, both men let out a collective sigh. gojo's hand moved to your shoulder, supporting you as you tried to steady yourself.

“take a moment,” he said, his voice gentle. “don’t push yourself, babe.”

geto was still knelt next to you, his hand now resting on your thigh. he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your sarcasm, even in this situation.

“i think you’ve used up all your sarcasm for the day, sweetheart,” he teased, patting your leg. you chuckled softly at geto’s teasing, shaking your head as you leaned back against the cold bathroom wall, still feeling weak. “yeah, i think i’m tapped out for now,” you muttered with a tired grin, glancing between the two of them.

gojo, always quick to catch on to your needs, shifted closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder. “we can just stay here for a second, babe,” he whispered, his voice soothing as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you gently into him.

geto sat down on your other side, his back pressed against the cold tiles as well, the three of you now slumped on the bathroom floor. his hand remained on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. “we’ll rest as long as you need, no rush,” he said softly, though you could still catch a hint of his playful nature in his voice.

you closed your eyes for a moment, relishing the comfort of their presence. the cold tiles beneath you provided some relief from the lingering nausea, while the warmth of gojo's body against yours made you feel safe and loved.

as you leaned your head against his shoulder, you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

geto's touch on your thigh was equally comforting, his fingers gently kneading your skin. he was still silently amused by your outburst earlier, but his primary concern was your well-being. the bathroom was silent for a moment, save for the sound of your breathing and the soft hum of the overhead light. eventually, gojo spoke up, his voice low and soothing.

“do you think you could stand up, babe?” he asked gently, his hand rubbing your arm. “we should probably move you to the couch or something.”

geto nodded in agreement, his fingers still lightly tracing patterns on your thigh. “yeah, you can’t stay on the bathroom floor forever, sweetheart. that’s not very comfortable.” you shivered slightly, feeling the cold sweat clinging to your skin, your body still weak and shaky. you shook your head slowly, not even attempting to move. “i don’t feel like walking,” you muttered, your voice a little hoarse. “i just want to go to bed.”

gojo immediately tightened his arm around you, his concern deepening. “you’re feeling cold, aren’t you?” he said softly, his hand moving to rub your shoulder in an attempt to warm you up.

geto frowned, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, noticing the way your skin was clammy. “you’re covered in cold sweat, sweetheart,” he observed, his fingers gently wiping some of the moisture from your forehead. “you really shouldn’t stay like this.”

before you could even respond, gojo scooped you up effortlessly into his arms again, clearly having made up his mind. “bed it is,” he said firmly, but there was a softness in his voice. “we’ll get you warm and comfortable. no more bathroom floors today.”

as gojo carried you out of the bathroom and into the living room, geto followed closely behind, a stern expression still on his face.

“you can’t just lie down without drying yourself off first,” he scolded gently, his gaze fixed on your shivering form in gojo’s arms. “we don’t want you to catch a cold on top of everything else.”

he moved ahead of them and headed towards the bedroom, pulling back the covers and fluffing the pillows.

“we need to get her into some dry clothes too,” he muttered to himself. gojo carried you into the bedroom and carefully laid you down on the bed. the sheets were cool and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold bathroom floor.

he sat down beside you, his hand still rubbing your arm as geto rummaged through the dresser for some clean clothes.

“you’re shaking, babe,” gojo said, concern evident in his voice. “we’ll get you warm and comfy, just give us a minute, okay?”

geto came back with a soft t-shirt and some sweatpants, setting them down on the bed. gojo gently helped you sit up, his strong arms supporting you. they worked together, guiding your arms into the sleeves of the t-shirt. the soft fabric felt comforting against your skin, instantly making you feel more relaxed.

once you were dressed in the fresh clothes, gojo helped you lie back down on the bed. geto quickly pulled up the covers, tucking them snugly around you.

“there you go,” gojo said softly, his hand smoothing your hair back from your forehead. “better?” you shifted slightly on the bed, the cool sheets a brief relief, but the aches still lingered. leaning into gojo’s side, you murmured, “my head hurts… and my stomach… still hurts,” your voice soft and tired, the pain clear in every word.

both gojo and geto exchanged worried glances, their faces etched with concern. they knew this wasn’t just a simple case of food poisoning or an upset stomach. you were clearly in a lot of pain, and it was obvious something more serious was happening.

gojo's hand continued to stroke your hair, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “i know, babe. we’ll get you some ibuprofen for the headache,” he said, his voice low and soothing. geto sat down on the edge of the bed beside you, his hand reaching to touch your forehead as well. “do you think it’s food poisoning?” he asked gojo, his gaze on you.

gojo shook his head, a deep frown still etched on his face. “i don’t think so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face. “food poisoning doesn’t usually cause this much pain, and she hasn't eaten anything we haven’t.”

he looked over at geto, his expression tense. “we need to figure out what’s really going on. she’s clearly not feeling well, and we can’t just keep guessing.” geto’s brow furrowed in concern as he listened to gojo. he could see the worry etched on your face, and it made his heart ache. “you’re right,” he said, his voice steady but filled with urgency. “i’ll call shoko and see if she knows anything. maybe she can give us some advice or come check on her.”

he stood up, moving toward his phone with purpose. he quickly dialed shoko’s number, keeping his eyes on you, silently reassuring you with his gaze before he walked out of the room. as geto left the room, phone in hand, gojo continued to fuss over you, his fingers gently combing through your hair and his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“don’t worry,” he muttered softly, his voice a soothing whisper. “we’ll figure this out. shoko’ll be here soon, and she’ll know what to do.” you finally fell into a deep sleep after shoko arrived and provided you with medicine, diagnosing you with food poisoning. thankfully, you were only experiencing slight diarrhea and a fever, but the worst seemed to be over, and you finally had some peace.

in the living room, gojo and geto set to work cleaning up the mess of takeout containers and leftovers scattered about. as they tackled the remnants of your lazy day, gojo noticed something odd—a box of food he didn’t remember ordering or eating.

he raised an eyebrow, picking up the container and inspecting it closely. “hey, sugu,” he called out, his voice curious as he approached his boyfriend, who was busy stacking plates in the sink. “did you eat this?” geto glanced at the container that gojo was holding, his expression one of confusion as he took it in his own hands. he studied it for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall.

“no, i didn’t even know we had this,” he replied, his voice puzzled. “do you remember ordering it?” gojo shook his head, his eyes fixed on the mysterious food. “i don’t remember ordering it either,” he said, his tone a mix of confusion and curiosity.

he looked to geto for answers, but he was just as bewildered. the fact that neither of them remembered ordering the food was strange and a little alarming.

“where could it have come from, then?” gojo mused aloud, his fingers tapping against the container. geto leaned closer to the container, inspecting the food with a furrowed brow. after a moment, he straightened up and said, “you know, it's possible that she ate this. maybe she thought it was part of the order we placed and just went for it.”

gojo considered the possibility, the theory making some sense. “yeah, that could be true,” he said slowly, his eyes still fixed on the food.

he glanced over at geto, a mix of realization and concern in his expression. “but that means we’ve been sitting around on our asses, clueless, while she’s been the one to actually experience food poisoning.” geto nodded firmly, his expression serious as he looked at gojo. “we’re definitely not ordering from that place again,” he said, determination in his voice. “i won’t take another chance for you or her to end up with food poisoning. it’s not worth it.”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring geto's seriousness. “yeah, you're right,” he said, his grip tightening on the container. “no more ordering from that place. i can’t handle seeing her like that again.”

he looked down at the food once more, a mixture of anger and concern playing across his face. “i just can’t believe we didn’t give it a second thought until now.” gojo sighed heavily, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “i just hope she’ll be okay. shoko did say she’ll be fine, right? just need some rest and fluids?”

geto nodded, his expression reassuring as he leaned against the counter. “yeah, shoko said it’s just a mild case of food poisoning, and she’ll be fine with some rest and fluids,” he assured gojo. “we just gotta make sure she hydrates and gets plenty of sleep. but she should be back to normal in no time.”

gojo exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “that’s good to hear,” he murmured, his frown lessening slightly. a wave of relief course through him. he ran his hand through his hair again, feeling a bit foolish for not having realized it sooner.

“god, i feel like an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the food. he set the container down on the counter and turned to geto, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “i can’t believe we didn’t think to check if she had eaten anything different. we’re some great boyfriends, huh?”

geto chuckled softly, sensing gojo's guilt-ridden thoughts. he reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. “hey, it’s okay,” he reassured him. “yeah, we messed up this time, but we’ll be more careful in the future. that’s what matters, right?”

he paused for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “besides, we may be lousy at checking our food orders, but i think we make pretty damn good boyfriends otherwise.” gojo couldn’t help but crack a small smile at geto’s words. his boyfriend’s optimism was contagious, and it helped to ease some of the self-blame he was feeling.

“yeah, i guess you’re right,” he admitted, his hand reaching out to lightly shove geto’s shoulder. “we’re not perfect, but damn, we’re pretty close.”

he let out a breath, his eyes returning to the container on the countertop. “we really should throw this out, huh? just in case.” geto shot gojo a look, raising an eyebrow with a familiar attitude that gojo instantly recognized—you’d rubbed off on him, no doubt. “yeah, obviously,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, mirroring the sass you’d so often used.

gojo couldn’t help but laugh loudly, the sound filling the kitchen. geto’s sudden sassiness reminded him vividly of you, and he had to admit, it was oddly endearing coming from his usually more stoic boyfriend.

“damn, you’re really picking up her attitude, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning against the countertop with a wide grin. “next thing i know, you’ll be rolling your eyes at me and everything.”

geto chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “oh, i wouldn’t put it past me,” he responded, feigning nonchalance. “if you keep up your smartass comments, i might just start rolling my eyes more often.”

he stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his hands holding the taller man in the waist. “you better watch yourself, satoru. i’m learning from the best here.” gojo’s grin only widened at geto’s playful threat. he could feel the warm heat of geto’s hands on his waist, and the closeness of their bodies sent a shiver up his spine.

“oh, is that a challenge, babe?” he purred, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone.

he closed the remaining gap between them, his arms wrapping around geto’s neck and drawing him closer. “you better watch out, i can get pretty smart-mouthed myself.” as they stood there, bodies pressed against each other, their breath mingling and the heat between them growing rapidly, gojo’s mind began to wander. geto’s boldness and playfulness brought out a primal desire within him.

a low growl rumbled in his throat, his fingers digging into geto’s shirt as he leaned in, his lips grazing against the soft skin of geto’s neck.

“keep this up, and you’re gonna get more than just rolling eyes, suguru,” he whispered, his voice dripping with innuendo. geto shivered at the sound of gojo’s voice, the rough and lustful tone sending a wave of heat pooling in his stomach. he could feel the desire between them, a dangerous and intense thing.

he pressed himself closer, his body molding against gojo’s with a fervor. his hands moved, moving under the hem of gojo’s shirt, fingers tracing the defined muscles of his abdomen.

“promise?” he breathed out, his own voice thick with need. too busy in their own little bubble, they didn’t notice you walked out of the hallway, still feeling weak but managing to steady yourself, you caught sight of your boyfriends locked in an intense moment. rolling your eyes with a hint of sarcasm, you slowly approached them.

“cute,” you muttered dryly, your voice laced with mock amusement as you took in the sight of them. despite feeling drained, you couldn't resist teasing them even in this situation. a startled gasp escaped gojo’s lips as he heard your voice. he pulled away from geto, his eyes wide with surprise and caught off guard. his cheeks instantly flushed a slight shade of pink.

geto, on the other hand, smirked at the sight of you. his hand move from gojo's back to on the small of your back, pulling you into his embrace.

“hey there, sleeping beauty,” he said, his tone playful as he smiled down at you. gojo chuckled nervously, still recovering from the abruptness of your arrival. “babe, don’t sneak up on us like that,” he grumbled, his arms folding across his chest in a defensive manner.

he gave you a once-over, noticing the exhaustion that still clung to your features. even though you looked tired and weak, you were still as sarcastic as ever. a mix of relief and amusement flickered in his gaze as he took in your unimpressed expression. you let out a soft hum, too tired to respond with your usual sharp sarcasm, and rested your head against geto’s chest. the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart were comforting, helping ease the lingering discomfort in your stomach.

“mmm... just needed some water,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. geto responded by wrapping his arms around you, his embrace firm and soothing. his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, a silent reassurance.

gojo watched as you snuggled against geto, his heart squeezing with a mixture of affection and concern. he moved closer, his hand gently caressing your hair.

“why didn’t you call us?” he asked, his tone a blend of worry and tenderness. “you shouldn’t be up and moving around. you need to rest, babe.” you tilted your head slightly, giving them both a tired but playful smirk. “i did call you,” you murmured, your voice still weak but laced with teasing. “but apparently, you two were too busy to listen.”

gojo sputtered slightly, caught off guard by your quick, sassy retort. he shot a glance at geto, who simply chuckled in amusement.

“yeah, well, we were just... um...” gojo stumbled over his words, his mind blanking as he struggled to come up with a viable excuse.

geto, meanwhile, chuckled again, his arms still wrapped around you. “you’re a feisty little thing, even when you’re sick,” he teased, giving your side a light poke. gojo shot geto a glare that clearly said ‘thanks for the help.’ he knew there was no use in trying to justify their... distracted behavior. you had caught them red-handed.

he redirected his attention back to you, his hand reaching to cup your face.

“fine, you got us,” he admitted, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “we should’ve been paying more attention. but seriously, you really shouldn’t be out of bed yet.” you leaned into gojo’s hand, your eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion without lifting your head from geto's chest. “i was just thirsty,” you muttered softly, “and wanted to find something to eat... i feel weak from all the throwing up and... well, the rest.” you grimaced slightly, not needing to explain further.

both geto and gojo’s expressions softened with concern at your words. the sight of you, looking so weak and weary, tugged at their hearts.

geto’s hand continued to gently rub your back, while gojo’s fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

“babe, you shouldn’t be eating solids right now,” gojo said, his voice gentle but firm. “you’ll just make yourself sick again. we can get you some water and snacks, but nothing too heavy, okay?”

you nodded.

"great," gojo murmured, his hand still caressing your hair. he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. gojo gave you a small smile, satisfied that you weren’t going to argue. he glanced over at geto, who was still holding you in his arms.

“alright, let’s get you back to bed,” geto said, his arms shifting to lift you into his arms. “you okay holding her?” gojo asked, looking at the other man. “i’ll go get some water and something for her to nibble on.”

geto nodded, his grip on you firm and gentle. he looked down at you, your head resting against his chest. he couldn’t help but think how small and fragile you looked right now, his heart panging with concern.

“i’ve got her,” geto assured gojo as he began walking towards the bedroom. “just bring the food and water when you’re done. i’ll keep her company ‘til then.” gojo nodded in response, his gaze lingering on you and geto. a mix of worry and affection was evident in his eyes.

“i’ll be there in a minute,” he said, his voice hushed as he watched you being carried away. he knew geto would take care of you, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of helplessness.

with a slight shake of his head, he turned and headed towards the kitchen to gather the requested supplies. gojo moved quickly through the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with cool water. he also grabbed a few soft, bland snacks that would be gentle on your stomach.

as he did, his mind wandered back to you. he was used to you being strong and independent, able to handle yourself. seeing you so weak and vulnerable was a rare sight.

gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. he should’ve been more attentive to you and your condition earlier. minwhile, geto carried you into the bedroom, his steps were slow and measured, trying not to jostle you too much. he gently laid you down on the bed, propping up the pillows to make you more comfortable. he sat down on the edge, his eyes never leaving your face.

he reached out, his hand finding yours and giving it a soft squeeze. “you holding up okay, babe?” he asked, his voice low and gentle. you gave a small nod in response, your hand weakly squeezing his back. the fatigue in your eyes and the exhaustion etched across your face were hard to miss.

despite his concern, geto couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at the sight of you. you looked so vulnerable, so dependent on him and gojo. it was a rare glimpse of your softer side, and a side that he appreciated seeing, even if it was under these circumstances.

geto continued to watch you, his eyes carefully scanning your features. he could see the way your body tensed as a wave of nausea struck you, and the way your eyelids fluttered as exhaustion clawed at you.

he reached out, gently running his fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture. he didn’t say much, knowing that you needed rest more than words at the moment. his presence was meant to be a silent comfort, a steady reassurance that he was there for you.

he leaned closer, his fingers tracing the soft line of your cheek. “it’s okay,” he murmured, assuring not only you but himself. “toru’s bringing some water and snacks. you need to stay hydrated, okay?”

he paused, his eyes scanning over you. the protective instincts he had over you were kicking into overdrive. “is there anything else you need? a cool washcloth, a bucket to vomit in, anything?” you shook your head, your tired eyes meeting geto’s. “no,” you mumbled weakly. “just... just the water and food for now.”

you closed your eyes momentarily, the effort of talking and staying awake slowly draining you further. you let out a small sigh, your body sinking deeper into the pillows, seeking the comfort and rest they offered.

geto watched you sink into the pillows, his heart clenching a little at the sight. he hated seeing you like this, so weak and weary.

he continued to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. he didn’t say much, letting the silence and the steady rhythm of his hand provide some small comfort.

he knew gojo would be back with the water and snacks soon. he just needed to keep you calm and relaxed until then. as he continued to stroke your hair, geto's mind began to wander. he thought about how this had happened, how you had become so ill. they should've been paying more attention to you, they should've noticed the signs earlier.

guilt stirred in his chest, but he tried to push it aside. there was no use dwelling on past mistakes. right now, his focus needed to be on you, taking care of you and making sure you recovered. as if on cue, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, along with the soft creek of the bedroom door opening.

gojo entered the room, holding a glass of water and snacks and banana. he quickly moved closer to the bed, his eyes taking in your tired appearance.

“hey, my love,” he murmured quietly, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “i’ve got water and some light snacks for you.” you opened your eyes as gojo approached, a slight shift of your head acknowledging his presence. the simple act seemed to require great effort, your eyes barely able to stay focused.

the sound of his voice, low and gentle, pierced through the haze of fatigue. you managed a small, weak smile as you looked at him, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your gaze. “thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you move to sit properly.

gojo placed the glass of water on the bedside table, along with the snacks. he watched as you moved to sit up, your movements slow and labored. concern flickered in his eyes, but he held back from fussing over you too much.

“take it easy,” he murmured, his hand gently guiding you back against the pillows. “you don’t need to sit up. just rest and try to drink some water, okay?” you raised an eyebrow at gojo, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite your exhaustion. “how am i supposed to drink while laying down? it’s just gonna go all over my face,” you teased, your voice weak but sarcastic.

gojo chuckled softly, amused by your feistiness despite your current state. he knew even the slightest bit of sarcasm meant you were slowly starting to feel like yourself again. “fair point,“ he conceded, taking the water from the bedside table. he gently shifted to sit beside you, adjusting the pillows so your head was slightly lifted. “but we can’t have you choking while you’re sipping water now, can we? so let me do it for you.”

geto, who had been watching the exchange between you and gojo, rolled his eyes playfully. he couldn’t help but find your stubborn sassiness endearing, even in your weakened condition. “just give in and let satoru help you, baby,” he chimed in, a hint of amusement in his tone. “it’s better than having a wet pillow.”

you chuckled softly, glancing over at geto with a tired but amused smile. “sorry, but sometimes satoru says things that just make me want to slap him in the face,” you muttered, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

gojo clutched his chest in mock offense, feigning a wounded expression. “hey! i’m just trying to help you, you know,” he retorted, a fake pout forming on his lips. meanwhile, geto chuckled at your exchange. your sharp tongue and witty remarks never failed to entertain them both. “always got something to say, huh?” he teased.

he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head as he watched you and gojo continue banter. geto was grateful that even in your current state, you still had your feisty personality. it was a good sign that you hadn’t lost your spirit completely. “just drink the damn water and let us take care of you,” geto chimed in, his tone lighthearted yet firm. “you can go back to being a smartass later.”

gojo huffed dramatically, still pretending to be hurt by your earlier comment. he knew you were just being sarcastic, but he couldn’t resist joining in on the banter. “maybe you prefer geto feeding you water, huh?” he joked, his hand holding the glass of water poised to feed you.

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, i want you to,” you said softly, your voice teasing but sincere as you looked up at gojo. despite the playful banter, there was something reassuring about having him take care of you, even if he was a little over the top sometimes.

gojo couldn't resist smirking at your words, loving the fact that you still wanted him to take care of you, despite the fact he was the one who had initially messed up. “you just can’t resist me, can you?” he teased, his tone filled with his usual arrogance. geto smirked as well, his eyes flickering between you and gojo, enjoying the interaction. he knew how much gojo treasured your dependence on him, even if it was just for something simple like feeding you water.

gojo carefully lifted the glass to your lips, his hand supporting the back of your head as you took small sips. he watched as your throat gently bobbed with each swallow, his eyes full of tenderness. “there you go,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “just a few more sips, okay?”

you nodded.

gojo continued to help you drink, making sure you took small sips so as not to overwhelm your still-sensitive stomach. he could see the tiredness etched on your face, but he also saw a flicker of gratitude in your eyes. once you had finished the glass, he set it down on the nightstand. gojo gently lowered your head back onto the pillow, adjusting your position to ensure you were comfortable. geto moved a little closer, his hand resting on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“you feel a bit warmer than before,” he commented, his voice laced with concern. “how’s your stomach? do you think you can manage some snacks?” you nodded weakly, a tired but grateful smile on your face. “yeah, i think the banana would be fine,” you murmured, feeling a little more stable now that the worst of it had passed.

gojo and geto exchanged glances, pleased to see you slowly regaining your strength. gojo grabbed the banana from the bedside table, peeling it open. he broke off a piece and held it up to your lips. “take small bites, okay?” he reminded you gently.

geto watched from the side, his hand now gently rubbing your shoulder. he could tell that you were starting to feel better, but he still wanted to ensure you didn’t push yourself too hard. “just focus on eating slowly,” he said, his voice steady and calming. “we don’t want you getting sick again.”

you chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “got it, small bites,” you teased, opening your mouth as gojo brought the piece of banana closer. he fed you carefully, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched you take the bite. “there you go, my beautiful spoiled girl,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

geto chuckled at gojo's comment, shaking his head in amusement. he knew gojo loved pampering a little too much, but he couldn't deny it was cute seeing you being taken care of so lovingly. “always with the spoiling,” geto mused, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair off your forehead before back to your shoulder.

gojo just shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. he couldn’t help it; you were his beautiful girl, and he loved doting on you. he broke off another piece of banana and raised it to your lips. “can you blame me for spoiling her when she’s so damn cute like this?” gojo asked, looking over at geto with a cheeky grin.

geto rolled his eyes playfully, knowing he had to step back and let gojo relish in his spoiling tendencies a little. “no, i guess i can’t,” he admitted, a slight smirk on his face. he leaned back, his hand still resting on your shoulder, while he watched gojo continue to feed you the banana.

gojo took his time feeding you, savouring every moment of pampering you. he felt satisfied knowing he was taking care of you, even if it was in a small way. once you’d finished the banana, he set the peels back on the tray, shifting his attention back to you. “how are you feeling now, baby? any nausea or anything?” he asked, his expression a mix of concern and affection.

you leaned back against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh of relief as you felt the lingering tension in your stomach start to ease. “i’m better now,” you murmured, your voice still a little tired but much calmer than before.

“my stomach still feels uncomfortable, but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore.” you paused for a moment, resting your hand on your belly as if testing the waters. “i think the worst of it is over,” you added, your lips curving into a small, relieved smile as you glanced up at gojo.

gojo’s concern softened slightly as he heard your words. it was a relief to know that you were feeling a bit better. he noticed the way you placed your hand on your stomach, as if checking your condition. “that’s good to hear,” he said, his voice gentle. “but remember, no solids for a while more, okay?”

geto spoke up from beside you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. “just stick to the liquids for now,“ he agreed. “let your stomach rest.”

you nodded at both of them, feeling reassured by their concern. “yeah, i know,” you replied, your voice soft. “no solids, i promise.” your hand still rested on your stomach, but the discomfort was manageable now, and their gentle presence made it easier to relax. “thanks for looking out for me,” you added, glancing between gojo and geto with a small smile.

both gojo and geto smiled back, their gazes soft and tender. they knew you weren’t fully recovered yet, but the fact that you could smile and talk without too much discomfort was a good sign. “of course, we always look out for you,“ geto said gently, his hand rubbing your shoulder in a comforting gesture. gojo chimed in as well, his hand coming to rest on your cheek. “we’d do anything to make sure you’re okay,“ he murmured, his eyes filled with affection.

the room fell into a comfortable silence as geto and gojo continued to watch over you, observing your condition and making sure you were as comfortable as possible. gojo’s hand remained on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin while geto’s hand continued its soothing rubbing on your shoulder. they were both quietly observing you, watching for any signs of discomfort or distress, ready to act if necessary.

a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you felt the warmth of their affection surrounding you. "if you two keep this up," you began, your voice teasing but sincere, “i won’t be able to help it... i’ll just fall in love with you all over again.”

you gazed up at them, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in their tender expressions, the way they cared for you so deeply. it was obvious how much they cared for you, how concerned they were about your wellbeing. the love, the tenderness, it was palpable in the air.

both geto and gojo smirked at your words, their gazes filled with love and understanding. they knew you were teasing, but at the same time, the truth in your words was evident. gojo chuckled softly, his hand still on your cheek. “oh, is that so?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

geto’s smile mirrored gojo’s, his hand on your shoulder giving a gentle comforting squeeze as he spoke. “f we’re too affectionate, will you fall even harder for us, huh?” the room was filled with their laughter, their voices blending together in a mix of lighthearted humor and genuine affection.

gojo’s fingers traced small circles on your skin, his touch light and soothing. “if you fall any harder for us, we’ll have to tie you up and keep you with us always,” he joked. geto shook his head, grinning at gojo’s words. “or we’ll have to lock you up in our arms and never let you go,” he added, his voice filled with affectionate teasing.

you rolled your eyes playfully, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “look at the two of you, going all yandere on me all of a sudden,” you teased, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “should i be worried?”

though your words were mocking, the affection in your voice was clear. you leaned back into the pillows, raising an eyebrow at both of them. “next thing i know, you’ll be locking me in a tower somewhere, huh?”

you couldn't help but chuckle softly, enjoying the playful banter as much as their care. “honestly, i don’t know whether to be scared or flattered,” you added, your smirk growing wider as you met their amused gazes.

gojo’s smirk only widened at your response. “scared and flattered. it’s the perfect mix,” he quipped, his hand moving to run through your hair, his fingers tangling gently in the strands. geto chuckled at your comment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “you should be scared, because you're not going anywhere without us,” he joked.

“we’d happily lock you up in a tower if it means having you all to ourselves,” he added, his voice filled with affection and a hint of possessiveness. the atmosphere in the room was light and playful, their bantering was filled with affectionate teases and mock-threats.

gojo’s hand continued to play with your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. “can you imagine it? you trapped in a tower, surrounded by our love and attention,” he teased, a hint of a smirk on his lips. geto nodded. “we’d take turns feeding you, bathing you, making sure you’re never lonely,” he added, his voice soft but filled with obvious possessiveness.

you nodded with a sarcastic grin, playing along with their possessive teasing. “oh, absolutely,” you said, your voice dripping with mock seriousness. “and in no time, i'll be completely disabled from all that love and attention.” you leaned back further into the pillows, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave them both a knowing look. “sounds like i wouldn’t be able to move an inch without one of you hovering over me. what a life, huh?”

your smirk widened as you added, “i might as well get used to being completely helpless if that’s the plan.” you glanced between gojo and geto, the playful sarcasm in your voice masking the warmth and affection you felt from their over-the-top devotion.

gojo chuckled, enjoying your playful banter. “helpless?” he repeated, his voice filled with mock surprise. “oh, you have no idea how much pleasure we would get from having you completely dependent on us.” geto grinned, eyeing you in a way that showed he was only half-joking. “helpless and completely at our mercy,” he agreed, his voice low, almost sultry.

“sounds like a dream come true for us,” gojo added, his hand moving down to your hip, resting there casually. you felt a shiver run down your spine as their eyes stayed glued to you, watching your every move with a strange intensity. the playful banter took on a different weight, and their unblinking gazes made your heart race.

nervously, you grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked both of them with it. “okay, freaks, stop looking at me like that!” you exclaimed, laughing despite the tension they were building. “seriously, you're making me nervous.”

as they laughed in response, you narrowed your eyes at them, half-joking but with a sliver of suspicion. “i’m starting to think you two are really going to lock me up somewhere,” you added with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “i mean, you’re taking this whole possessive thing a little too far, don’t you think?” you hit them again lightly with the pillow, trying to shake off the nervous energy their intense stares had stirred up. “next thing i know, i’ll wake up chained to the bed or something.”

gojo smirked, dodging the pillow with a laugh. “hey, don’t give us ideas,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

geto chuckled, his gaze flickering over you like a cat eyeing its prey. “chained to the bed, huh? now that's a pretty picture,” he said, his voice sultry and full of mischief. both of them seemed to enjoy playing on your nervous energy, loving the reaction they were getting from you.

gojo leaned in closer, his hand gently taking the pillow from you. “you know, we could make that happen,” he said, his voice low and filled with suggestiveness.

geto moved closer as well, his hand coming to rest on your other hip. “we’d take good care of you, though,” he murmured, his voice a soft contrast to gojo’s more direct approach. “chained up, helpless, completely at our mercy..”

you rolled your eyes at their teasing, feeling your energy wane after all the playful back-and-forth. “yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you muttered, moving to lay down on the bed.

as you stretched out on the cool sheets, your body sinking into the mattress, you couldn’t help but chuckle tiredly. “you two and your nonsense,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you felt exhaustion start to settle in.

closing your eyes, you added with a sigh, “i swear, if you keep talking about chaining me up, i’m gonna fall asleep just to escape.” despite your playful words, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort knowing that even with their jokes, they were always there to take care of you.

gojo chuckled, his hand still holding the pillow he took from you. “we’re just teasing, babe,” he reassured you, his voice now softer, more affectionate. geto shifted closer, his hand rubbing your hip comfortingly. “yeah, we wouldn't really chain you up,” he reassured, a small smile on his lips. as you snuggled deeper into the bed, both gojo and geto noticed the visible fatigue in your eyes. the teasing tone in their voices faded, replaced with a gentler, more caring demeanor.

you shifted in bed, trying to find a position that eased the lingering discomfort in your stomach. letting out a frustrated sigh, you adjusted the blanket around you, tossing slightly before finally settling on your side, resting your head on gojo’s arm. “ugh, i hate this,” you muttered, frowning as the ache still tugged at you.

gojo automatically adjusted his position to accommodate your head, his eyes watching you intently. “i know, babe,” he murmured, rubbing your back comfortingly.

geto leaned closer from the other side, his hand still gently resting on your hip. “just try to relax,” he said, his voice as soft as ever. they both could see the frustration and discomfort etched on your face and was doing their best to soothe you, both knowing that there wasn’t much they could do apart from provide comfort and emotional support.

gojo’s hand continued to rub your back, his touch gentle but firm. “do you think you can manage a few more sips of water or some tea?” he asked quietly, wanting to help in any way he could.

geto nodded in agreement. “some hydration might help with the discomfort,” he added, his hand patting your hip gently. they both looked genuinely concerned and wanted to see you feeling better as soon as possible. “i’d really like some tea,” you replied softly, glancing at geto with a small smile. “and can you add honey? it always makes me feel better.”

geto returned your smile, nodding gently. “of course,” he said soothingly. “honey-sweetened tea it is.” gojo chimed in, his hand still rubbing your back in a comforting circle. “we’ll make sure it’s not too hot so you can enjoy it without straining your stomach,” he said, his voice filled with care. both of them knew how much a simple cup of tea could mean to you, especially when you weren’t feeling well.

as you turned to face gojo, a playful smile crossed your lips. you lifted the blanket slightly, creating a cozy little space beside you, silently inviting him to join you. “c’mere baby,” you teased lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

gojo chuckled at your invitation, a playful smirk on his lips. he knew exactly what you were suggesting. “oh, can’t resist me, huh?” he teased back, his voice filled with amusement. he didn’t waste a moment, shifting his position and sliding under the covers next to you. his arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer against his body.

as gojo pulled you closer, you let out a soft hum of satisfaction, feeling the warmth radiate from him. you sighed in relief, your body melting into his embrace as you relaxed against him. the gentle pressure of his arm around your waist was comforting, making you feel safe and cherished.

your fingers found their way to his hair, playfully running through the soft strands. it felt nice to be close to him like this, and you couldn’t help but smile at how easy it was to forget your discomfort in his presence. “you always know how to make me feel better,” you murmured, your voice soft as you let your fingers play with his hair, enjoying the moment of calm amidst the chaos.

gojo smirked at your words, feeling a sense of satisfaction in being able to bring you comfort. he leaned into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. he wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you even closer against him, your head resting gently against his chest. “just doing my job, babe,” he said, his voice filled with fondness. “can’t have my beautiful girl feeling less than perfect, now can i?”

you smiled and hummed softly once again, the warmth of the moment enveloped you both. your fingers traced along his cheek, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes sparkled with affection as they locked onto yours. laying on your sides, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble.

“i’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with sincerity. “i just… sometimes i don’t know how to handle everything.” you took a breath, searching his eyes for reassurance. “but you know i love you, right?” you asked, your heart racing slightly at the vulnerability of the moment. “no matter how cranky i get, you mean the world to me.”

gojo smiled affectionately, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tenderly caressing your skin. he knew you had a lot to deal with but was glad you felt comfortable enough to express your emotions. he leaned in close, his eyes never leaving yours. “of course i do,” he murmured, his voice filled with tender conviction. “even when you’re cranky, you’re still the most precious thing to me. nothing could ever change that, not even your worst moods.”

gojo’s smile widened slightly as he continued to caress your cheek, his touch warm and soft. he loved how you still felt the need to reassure him of your love, even though you both knew it in your hearts.

he looked into your eyes, his gaze intense and full of affection. “besides,” he began, his voice dropping to a sultry purr, “i think i kind of like when you get feisty. it’s hot, you know.” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “oh?” you echoed, amusement dancing in your voice. “you find it hot when i'm about to slap the shit out of you?”

gojo chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening playfully. “maybe,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “keeps things exciting, don’t you think?” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. “you’re such a freak, ’toru,” you said with a mock sigh, but there was warmth in your tone, the playful banter between you two feeling comforting and familiar.

gojo gave you a roguish grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. “hey, i can’t help it if you’re so damn hot when you’re all fired up, your feisty side just does something for me,” he chuckled, his hand drifting down to give your hip a light squeeze.

he let out a soft laugh at the mock-exasperation in your voice, loving the lighthearted banter between you. “if loving your fiery side makes me a freak, i’m glad to be one,” he teased, his voice filled with genuine fondness.

gojo’s eyes flickered with mischief as he continued the playful banter. “yeah, maybe that’s why i keep egging you on, ‘cause i just love seeing that feisty side of you come out.” his hand moved back up to your face, his fingertips lightly tracing the line of your jaw. “though i wouldn’t mind you using those hands of yours for something else,” he teased, his voice dropping an octave.

you chuckled, shaking your head slightly at his teasing. “pervert,” you muttered affectionately, but the smile on your face betrayed how much you enjoyed his playful flirting. without another word, you slid your arm under his head, pulling him closer until your lips met his in a soft, lingering kiss. your smile remained against his mouth as you kissed him, the warmth between you two radiating with affection and familiarity. you could feel him relax into you, the teasing replaced with something deeper, more tender.

gojo let out a soft hum, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. his lips moved lazily against yours, tender and affectionate. he could feel himself melt into your touch, his tongue darting out to slide against yours, the taste of you familiar and comforting. his free hand roamed lazily over your body, tracing the curves and dips of your frame, as if trying to memorize every bit of you.

as the kiss continued, his touch grew more intimate, his hand now gently toying with the hem of your shirt, his fingers sliding underneath to graze against your bare skin. he broke the kiss, his lips moving to trail tender kisses down your jawline and to your neck, his breath warm and heavy against your skin. “god, i love you,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with quiet awe.

gojo's eyes drifted to your face after he pulls away, studying your expression as he continued to hold you close.

“besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur. “i'll take your feisty side, your cranky side, your grumpy side, your sad side… i’ll take all of you, every bit and piece.” he let out a soft, affectionate laugh, his hand rubbing your hip gently. “you’re mine, after all. both the good and the bad. and i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

his eyes stayed fixed on your face, drinking in your expressions as he continued to speak, his voice a low, seductive murmur. “even when you’re being pissy and grumpy, you’re still the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever laid eyes on. and i’ll take all of you, all of your sides.”

he chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your hip in affection. “you’re mine, every part of you. and i wouldn't change a thing about you, including your cranky, feisty moments.” he gently pulled you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body like a protective shield. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke.

you gazed at gojo, a soft smile playing on your lips as his words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. your heart swelled at his sweet, possessive confession, and you opened your mouth to respond, but just as you did, the door creaked open.

geto entered, holding a cup of tea with honey, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “am i interrupting something?” he teased lightly, his lips tugging into a smirk as he placed the tea on the bedside table. you glanced at him, your smile widening. “just in time,” you replied with a playful tone, momentarily resting your head against gojo’s chest before reaching for the tea and sitting up.

gojo chuckled softly, his arm still holding you close. he looked toward the door, his lips curving into a smile as he saw geto enter. he rolled his eyes at geto’s teasing question, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “yeah, actually you are,” he shot back with a smirk, watching as you sat up and reached for the tea. he continued to watch you with affectionate eyes, his hand idly tracing small circles on your back as you took a sip of the tea. “thanks, babe,” you said to geto, your voice soft and grateful.

geto moved closer to the bed, his eyes flickering between you and gojo as he studied the subtle interactions between the two of you. he perched himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracing over your features, lingering on your face. “how’s the tea?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. he knew you weren’t feeling your best, and the sight of you struggling with discomfort tugged at his heart strings.

you let out a soft, contented moan as the warmth of the tea spread through your body, soothing your throat and stomach. “mmm, that feels so good,” you murmured, handing the cup back to geto with a grateful smile. “thank you, suguru. i feel a lot warmer now.”

geto's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took the cup back from you. he placed it gently on the bedside table before turned his gaze back to you. he knew how much small gestures like bringing you a cup of tea could mean, especially when you were feeling unwell. the look of contentment on your face was confirmation enough that he had done well.

he gently reached out, his hand tenderly brushing hair from your face as he spoke, his voice filled with care. “anything for you, babe. just try to take it easy, yeah?”

you nodded softly, feeling a little more at ease as you shifted your body to lay on your back. the movement was slow and careful, your stomach still a little tender, but the warmth of the tea and the comforting presence of both geto and gojo made it easier.

“i will,” you whispered, looking up at the two of them as you settled back against the pillows. you felt their eyes watching you closely, still protective and filled with concern, but the warmth and care in their gazes made you feel safe.

geto's eyes remained fixed on you, watching your every move with a mixture of concern and tenderness. he could see that your movements were careful, your stomach still causing you some discomfort. he silently scooted closer to you on the bed, his body gently settling next to your own. his hand reached out to gently brush against your arm, his touch feather-light. “just try to relax, sweetheart,” he muttered softly, his voice filled with soothing reassurance.

you shifted a bit, creating just enough space for geto to lay down beside you. “lay with me,” you said softly, gesturing for him to join you. “i want you close.” his presence always made you feel more at ease, and you appreciated how he always seemed to know when you needed comfort.

geto smiled softl, complying with your request without any hesitation. he shifted his body, lowering himself down onto the bed beside you, his body snuggling against your side, molding to your form perfectly. his hand moved to rest gently on your stomach, his touch slow and deliberate, mindful of your discomfort. “i’m right here, babe,” he murmured, his voice gentle and soothing. “not going anywhere.”

“there, that's better,” you murmured, a small smile forming on your lips as you look up the glow in the dark sticker of stars on your ceiling. “now we can relax together.” you could feel the gentle smile on his face, and it made your heart feel a little lighter.

geto snuggled closer to you, his body wrapping around yours like a warm, protective shield. his head rested against your shoulder, his breathing steady and deep, matching yours. his hand continued to gently roamed over your stomach in a soothing pattern, his touch light and rhythmic.

he could feel the smile in your voice, and it made his own heart feel a little warmer. “that’s right,” he whispered, his voice soft and tender. “we’ll relax together, just the three of us.”

“and don’t worry,” he added, his voice a soothing murmur in your ear. “we’re here for you. always.” he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. “just close your eyes, sweetheart. we’ll take care of you.”

gojo had been watching the scene play out between the two of you from the other side of the bed, his eyes filled with warm affection as he observed the intimate moment.

he could feel the love and comfort radiating from both of you, and it filled his heart with a sense of peace and contentment. he didn’t want to interrupt, but he also yearned to be closer to you. he shifted his position slightly, scooting a little closer, wrapping his arm around you and geto. his head nestled in your shoulder, “go to sleep, baby, we will make sure everything’s gonna be alright.”

as gojo moved closer, geto glanced at him briefly, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. he could feel the love and protectiveness radiating from gojo's body, and it only served to further reassure him. he let his body relax against you, leaning slightly into gojo's embrace as he shifted to accommodate both of them.

“yeah, sweetheart,” he agreed softly, his voice filled with tender warmth. “we’ve got you. let go and rest. we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

you felt their presence around you, feeling the weight of gojo's arm draped over you like a warm, protective blanket. his voice was soft and reassuring, whispering in your ear and bringing a sense of comfort.

you let out a small, contented sigh, feeling the weight of your earlier distress slowly lifting. the warmth and care from both of them made you feel safe and loved, and your eyes started to feel heavy as weariness began to set in. “alright,” you whispered softly, your voice slurred with exhaustion. “i love you both.” and closed your eyes.

gojo tucked his head into your neck, his face nuzzling against your skin. he breathed in deeply, inhaling your scent and taking comfort in your presence.

he could feel the tension slowly easing from your body, and he relished the idea that his and geto’s presence was having a calming effect on you. upon hearing your mumbled declaration of love, gojo couldn't help but smile. he gave you a gentle squeeze, his voice soft and filled with tenderness. “we love you too, sweetheart. get some rest now.”

[rehenys]

God, you're so handsome. ~ T.Wolff

TW: Implied smut, Age Gap, Smoking. Synopsis: Toto and George Russell's Sister are sneaking around.

God, he's so handsome in his vintage Merc and black Tom Ford glasses. With the sleeve of his black shirt casually rolled up, his muscular forearms catch the light. A wisp of smoke hangs between his parted lips as he waits for me at the end of the road, hoping my brother doesn't see us. I drop my duffle bag rushing into his arms and meeting his lips with a sinful kiss. His lustful eyes raked over my outfit, biting his lip But we both know time is of the essence.

Out on the open road of Monaco with the wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck, just us and the ocean. His palm lays flat on my exposed thigh, mindlessly drawing shapes, his fluffy hair tousled due to the wind. His skin was glowing due to the setting sun. We pause to watch the sunset. I lean back against his chest, nestled between his long legs, with his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips against my neck. While my phone rings in the back seat.

5 missed calls from George

It's midnight, and we're tangled up in his sheets. I'm nestled against his side, his warm skin pressed against mine. His hand slowly roams my hip and waist until the teasing becomes too much. I stand over his body, holding him like a python, he canʼt keep his hands off me or his pants on. His lips whispered my name like a prayer.

16 missed calls from George

DAY 2:

In the morning light, he's still as handsome as ever, with tousled hair and sleepy eyes. I press a soft kiss to his jaw. As I try to untangle our limbs, his arms tighten around my waist. I flop back down, giving up on getting out of my safe place. After all, who needs breakfast?

Around mid-noon, we begrudgingly leave the bedroom to have ‘breakfastʼ. Who would have thought Toto Wolff would look so good making eggs? His bare torso is covered in an apron, his dexterous fingers wrapped around the whisk. I just intently stare at him making us breakfast, simply mesmerised, which he notices, he winks before giving me a bowl of strawberries to snack on. We share Crêpeʼs with whipped cream, with my feet in his lap; our lips swollen and his marble skin covered in purple splotches.

26 missed calls from George

It's the dead of night, and he sits on the sofa with his spectacles on, furiously typing away on his laptop, his hair messy from running his hand through it, his face set in a scowl. I just made his favourite Pumpernickel bread, and I have about 45 minutes to kill while it bakes. He looks too delicious right now for me to resist. I stand in front of him with an innocent smile, slowly moving his laptop away. His brown eyes crinkle with excitement, His lips find mine as I tug on his hair, gently massaging it to soothe the sting. He chuckles against my lip, his large palms sinking into my skin as my fingers nimbly unbutton his white shirt. My lips meet the skin between his neck and shoulder, his head thrown back in pleasure.

38 missed calls from George 

DAY 3:

The next morning, I grab my phone while Torger is in the shower, to see a flurry of texts from my brother cussing me out, asking where I am. I calm him down, listing more lies to cover up our trial and he blindly trusts me, my heart heavy with guilt but he would never understand. I repeat it in my head like a mantra till that guilt settles when Toto takes me into his arms, kissing away my problems.

We lay on the couch as I read out loud, my hand running through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut. God, he's so handsome.

I chuckle, my darling all worn out. The simple domesticity of this week has me longing for more. we need to tell my brother, but how can I, this wasn't meant to happen but if I could go back in time I wouldn't change a thing. but my brother wouldn't understand, he has always been protective of his baby sister, and I know he would blow a fuse if he realised I was with his long-time mentor.

Our peaceful weekend had come to an end when he parked at the end of the road; back where we started, His face seemed to be set in a permanent scowl during the drive back. A chaste kiss and I walked up the road back home nodding at the security guard as he let me in giving me a sorrowful look. Stepping through the threshold of my house I switch to being the perfect sister and daughter of The Russells.

I happily greet my brother, feeding lies about my girl's weekend like I didn't spend the whole weekend in bed with his Boss and Mentor. As I head up the stairs he complements my outfit, I thank him with a soft smile but beneath that pretty pink Chanel dress he brought are the bruised hand prints of Torger Wolff with love bites to match.

[reminiscingtonight]

bracelet+hoodie+braid - aitana bonmati

All Locked Up (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

The first thing that registers is the pounding of your head.

Groaning, you lift a hand to rub at your face.

Only for the second thing to register when a sharp pain flares up at your wrist and your hand hits resistance before it can reach its destination.

“What the--” you mutter, staring at your hand with wonder. You give your limb another tug but still it goes nowhere.

Following the silver bracelet on your wrist, you trace it to a sleeping form next to you.

Peacefully closed eyes, button nose, hair done up in neat braids, yeah, you’d know that face anywhere.

“Aita.”

Your best friend murmurs incomprehensibly but doesn’t stir.

You sigh, nudging her again. “Aita!”

This time you get a tiny mumble, the other girl’s eyebrows furrowing as she fights to stay asleep.

“Aitana wake up!” This time your words are paired with a harsh yank of the bracelet on your wrist, Aitana’s hand consequently raising up as a result.

With a sputter the brunette wakes, lurching up so suddenly you almost clash heads.

“Ugh,” she groans, clearly feeling the effects of partying last night as much as you. “Why are you yelling so early in the morning?”

“It’s nearly noon,” you point out.

Aitana rolls her eyes at your correction. “Whatever. My question still stands. Why the yelling?”

“I don’t know, Aita, you tell me. Why are we handcuffed together?”

The footballer’s eyes stay narrowed for a second.

It’s clear when your words finally hit.

“Why are we what?!”

She seems frantic when she notices the predicament you’re in, ignoring your hisses of pain when she starts yanking her arm back with vigor.

“Stop it!” you yelp, free hand clamping down on Aitana’s wrist to stop her from detaching your hand from your body.

“Give me the key!” she all but shouts.

You give her a look. “You think I’d wake you up if I had the key? Honestly-- Wait why do you think the handcuff’s mine? For all I know it could be yours!”

Aitana tries to shove you in retaliation but all it does is yank her on top of you when you fall over.

“Why hello there,” she chuckles, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Do not even think about it. You’re not getting anywhere near my pants until we get out of these cuffs.”

Aitana lets out a groan when you shuffle your way out from under her.

While you reach for your phone in hopes of piecing together your night, Aitana snags a discarded hoodie from the foot of the bed.

You give her a look. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“I’m cold,” she points out like it’s obvious.

You roll your eyes at her. “And how do you think you’re going to get it on?”

Aitana opens her mouth, retort ready to fire before she realizes you’re right. Her mouth snaps shut with a click.

Sighing, you scoop up a blanket and drape it over her shoulders.

You pretend not to feel something when her free hand grazes yours and she murmurs a soft ‘thank you.’

Some day the two of you will have to sit down and actually define what you are.

Some day.

But not today.

You have more pressing things to do.

Like kill Patri and Claudia.

When Aitana frowns at your declaration you shove your phone into her hand.

“I swear to god, when I find them--” you huff.

Aitana’s silent as she reads through your text chain with the older of the two. Clearly sent sometime after the two of you got home and passed out, the texts read as follows:

[when you and aitana gonna get together]

[?]

[are you ignoring me :(]

[haha blame claudia]

[dunno where she got the cuffs didn’t ask but it was a great plan]

[have funnnnnnn]

[no freedom until you figure things out]

Clearly you’re going to need to re-educate Patri on what an “emergency key” means. Because sneaking into people’s houses in the middle of the night to handcuff them is definitely not in the handbook of uses.

Aitana seems to agree as she all but shoves your car keys into your hands.

“You hit high, I’ll hit low. If we double team one of them, the other will definitely break too.”

[bvidzsoo]

Fine Line Of Our Worlds

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: cursing, suggestive

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Word count: 40,3k

Summary: Song Mingi didn't choose to become a Pirate, but after getting saved by the crew, he decided to stay. Nobody at home would miss him, they didn't like him much. However, he would miss his riches dearly, teeth always aching for gold and money. He was a little kleptomaniac, it's mostly why he was punished so often back at home. But here, with Ateez, he was free to do whatever and he loved the idea. You were also rich, very rich. You had ties to the royal family, but never said much about it since it was due to your mother's bloodline, who died giving birth to you. You were daddy's little girl, always getting whatever you wanted, never reprimanded for anything. But your life was boring, you were closed inside your mansion's walls all day long and the only people you could torment to have fun were your maids, who grew tired of your antics. Let's not forget the fact that you also loved stealing. It started out as a little talent of yours when you were just a child, but growing up you realized it became a very unconscious habit. And one night, Mingi seemed to come into your life just at the right moment, sweeping your off your feet, quite literally, and taking you onto a Pirate ship, your fates interlacing forever. (Reader is called Yoon Areum in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Oh, my God, my lovelies!!! I swear to GOD this was NEVER supposed to be this long I can't believe I wrote something THIS long, like I'm CRYING TEARS OF JOY. This is the longest and biggest oneshot I've EVER written and oh my God, idk what to do with myself anymore. I am so so curious what you all will think of it, so please, let me know your thoughts about this monster of a fic lol! I am really sorry for the super long wait for this part, but I believe nothing is accidental, and the timing is perfect for this fic as I'm sure months ago this story wouldn't have turned out like this, because I wasn't so feral for Song Mingi back then, LOL. Check out the previous parts if you haven't already, as they are tightly woven together! I hope you enjoy, and happy reading now!

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

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

            The light padding of feet echoed around in the quiet room as I pressed my head further against the pillow, irritated by the sudden disturbance. Then, the ring of a small bell and the sound of curtains being drawn apart, and a blinding light, which flooded my grandeur room. I groaned loudly and pulled the thick covers over my shivering form, eyebrows furrowing when that damned ringing wouldn’t stop. Who would dare interrupt my beauty sleep? Who would dare wake me up from a dream where a charming prince was just about to confess his everlasting love for me?!

“Miss Yoon, it’s almost noon,” A soft voice called out, the ringing of the bell finally gone, “Your father inquired about your whereabouts.”

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut tighter, burying my head into the pillow even more. I didn’t want to get out of bed. It was so warm and comfortable. I wanted to sleep all day long and dream about a prince, which would finally whisk me away from this place and treat me like the royalty I am. Well…the royalty I would have been if my mother didn’t die and cause a rift between our family and hers. Certainly her being third cousin with the Queen would’ve granted us a spot in the palace. I would’ve very much liked that. To be pampered all day long with expensive things, living a lavished life without having to worry about anything. What a life that would’ve been. Instead, I was stuck in a golden decorated mansion where I suffered of bored all day long, and top of that, my two maids were incompetent too. If only father would sometimes listen to me…we wouldn’t be here still.

“Miss Yoon,” Another quiet voice said, “your father’s friends will be arriving soon, he doesn’t want you to miss greeting them.”

“I couldn’t care less about my father’s friends!” I hissed, sitting up abruptly, glaring at my two maids. They were shorter than me, and skinnier, their clothes clinging to their bodies in an uncomfortable way. I have offered some of my dresses to them, but them being ungrateful, refused to take them. If a warm-hearted woman like myself offered me a dress made of silk and littered with gems, I wouldn’t even think about refusing it. Not everyone was as generous as myself, the thought made me roll my eyes.

“Miss Yoon,” The blonde maid, Soyeon, said, “Sir Yoon asked me to let you know that the friends would be here in an hour.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that I wouldn’t get out of bed, but the black-haired maid, Soojin, cut me off before I could make a sound, “Your bath will get cold, Miss Yoon.”

I scoffed and leaned back into my pillows, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not getting out of bed today, get lost, you two.”

The maids said nothing as they fidgeted around, glancing at each other. I closed my eyes and hummed contently as my muscles grew soft once again, allowing the bed’s warmth to wrap me in a cocoon of comfort and serenity, which of course, didn’t last for long as one of the maid’s cleared their throat very quietly.

“Your breakfast will also get cold, Miss Yoon—”

“Fine!” I exclaimed and sat up with a glare, huffing as I threw the covers off myself, “Are you happy now?”

Before they could say anything, I got out of bed, almost tripping in the sheet as it had fallen to the floor, making the maids gasp as I quickly stood up straight, narrowing my eyes at them. They quickly looked away and I tsked, pulling the hair out of my eyes as I stepped into my fluffy slippers, and stormed past the two pathetic women, headed for my spacious bathroom. The walls and floor were a dark green marble, my favorite color, and the big window was opened to allow fresh air inside. The breeze was warm as I let my silky nightgown slip down my body, and I quickly got inside the bathtub which was decorated with golden accents, my father had made it specifically for me. I heard my maids hurrying inside the bathroom as I lowered myself further down in the warm water, wetting my hair and washing my eyes as I got above the surface, Soojin with the soap and sponge in her hands as she approached me. She didn’t look in my eyes as she started washing my body, and I rolled my eyes as Soyeon finally showed up with my breakfast.

I was starving.

Pancakes with maple syrup and blackberries were my favorite breakfast, our personal chef certainly knows me well. It’s like he read my mind that I was craving something sweet, but healthy, today.

“Are you going to wait until the night comes upon us?” I deadpanned as I looked at Soyeon, leaning forward when Soojin tried to wash my back without saying anything. Stupid girl, she couldn’t even use her mouth for a simple request.

“Apologies, Miss Yoon.” Soyeon slightly bowed her head and came near, getting on her knees to be at a more comfortable angle. I smiled at her widely as she raised the fork up towards my lips, pancake and blueberry on it. She certainly knew how I liked eating my favorite breakfast. I hummed as I closed my eyes and chewed the food, my mood instantly getting better. These two girls could perform their duties really well, they just needed little scolding and motivation from time to time. I sighed in contentment as Soyeon continued feeding me while Soojin thoroughly washed my body, not an ounce of grime on my skin. I hated being dirty, on rather hot days I would even bathe twice a day. The opened window allowed the warm breeze to waft inside, the crashing of the waves distant, but strong enough to be heard as our mansion was rather close to the beach. Once I was done with my breakfast, Soyeon handed me my cup filled with tea and I took a few sips, washing down the food, and enjoying the minty taste of it.

“Miss Yoon,” Soojin spoke up hesitantly as she washed my hair, voice quiet, “I overheard your father talking about a ball this morning—”

“A ball?!” I exclaimed, eyes shooting open as I sat up straight in the bathtub. A little water splashed over, Soyeon’s eyes stuck to it as she sighed quietly.

“It’s nothing certain, Miss Yoon, I don’t even know when it’ll be.” Soojin quickly explained, regret in her voice. If my father didn’t want me to know about it, then he had bad luck, because my loyal maids always told me everything that happened outside of my room’s doors.

“Soyeon, pick out my prettiest dress and prepare it for the ball!” I demanded, hissing when Soojin pulled on my scalp harshly with the towel. She quickly apologized and I rolled my eyes, Soyeon seeming lost as she looked at me before looking at Soojin.

“We don’t know when the ball will take place—”

“I said, prepare my dress for the ball.” I raised my eyebrows at her, daring her to disobey me. Soyeon quickly nodded as Soojin wrapped my hair in the towel, stepping aside to search for the one for my body. It was next to Soyeon, and she was quick to help out her fellow maid as she handed the towel to Soojin. I grinned with distaste, unimpressed by how eager they always were to help each other out. Yet, they would never helped me out, unless I demanded it. Two faced little demons is what they were, “Help me out.”

My voice was sweet as I raised my hand, halting Soojin’s movements. Soyeon’s eyes fell on me and I let a slow smile stretch onto my lips, eyebrows raised. She hesitated as she glanced at Soojin briefly, before taking a reluctant step towards me. I delicately raised my left arm too, barely placing my hand on Soyeon’s open palm. I didn’t necessarily like holding dirty things with my hands. I stood up and allowed Soyeon to guide me to my feet, eyes staying on my face as I stood naked in front of the two girls. I felt Soojin step closer from behind and wrap the towel around myself, my fingers tightening around Soyeon’s hand, a smirk forming on my lips. She looked down uncomfortably and that just allowed my next move to be easier than I thought it would be. I forcefully tugged on Soyeon’s hand, and suddenly, she was falling towards me with a loud cry. I released her hand as she fell in the bathtub, splashing water all over the floor and on the towel around my body. My amused expression dropped as I looked down at the girl with disgust, hand still in the air. She was gasping for air as she tried to get her hair out of her face, Soojin standing to the side with a shocked expression. When I glanced at her, she pressed her hands against her mouth and I rolled my eyes, stepping out of the bathtub. They certainly looked pathetic right now.

“Perhaps that taught you not to question when I say something, Soyeon.” My voice was cold as I turned around and took off towards the door, halting in the doorway, “Go get changed quickly, do you think Soojin is capable of braiding my hair the way I like it?”

“Yes, Miss Yoon, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Soyeon’s voice quivered as she hauled herself out of the bathtub, Soojin rushing to her side to help her out. I rolled my eyes and walked back inside my room, sitting at my vanity table as I looked out the window, a peculiar ship appearing on the horizon as it seemed to sail. Whether if it was coming towards our Kingdom or departing from it, I couldn’t tell, and I wondered what type of people were on it. Sailors, perhaps? But they were too far away from the shore, it couldn’t have been them. Or perhaps it was a merchant ship. Or maybe the Navy’s fleet. Oh, how handsome those soldiers were. Especially Lieutenant Kim. Pity he wasn’t rich or from an influential family, I would’ve long married him if that were the case, and of course, if my father wasn’t so overprotective of his little daughter. He barely let me out of his sight, even at my fragile age of nineteen. He was scared his little girl would get whisked away by some handsome man, and oh, how I wished for that to happen. But with my father always breathing down my neck and monitoring each step of mine, none of that was happening anytime soon. He had always thought his little friends were better, more mature, more respectful. But when he wasn’t looking our way, those old grimy men would send me flirty looks and whisper sweet nothings about a life lived in posh if I were to accept their proposals. But that’s not what I needed, nor wanted.

I wanted someone good looking. Someone, who was tall with sharp features and demanding eyes that made my heart race wildly. Someone, who made me forget my own name. Someone, who fell so madly in love with me that he’d worship the ground I walked on. That’s what I needed, and tons of money, of course, not some sticky fingers and fat old men who only wanted to taint my innocence. They thought they were sleek, but I was even sleeker. My eyes fell on the expensive watch placed on display on my vanity, making me chuckle to myself as I reached for it, tracing the leather with a finger. Lord Lee was still looking for it, pity he’d never ever again find it. I smirked as I reached over and opened my little chest filled with all the shiny goods I stole, although I prefer calling them borrowed, from my father’s business partners and friends. The floorboard creaking from behind made me look up, and through the mirror I saw Soojin walking inside my room, holding a pale blue dress. My eyebrows furrowed and I turned in my seat, tsking.

“Is that what you want me to wear to the ball?” My tone was snappy and skeptical as it made Soojin pause, eyes averted as she remained silent, “You can burn that old rag, I won’t wear it ever again.”

“Yes, Miss Yoon.” Soojin’s voice was small and as I continued looking at her, I could see the yearning in her eyes as her grip tightened around the fabric. I scoffed and faced my mirror again, Soyeon finally walking back inside, her clothes dry and hair disheveled as her eyes were red. God, this stupid girl had been crying again. These two maids were so sensitive, it was embarrassing at this point, “God, you two are so pathetic. I wonder why my father keeps you around still. I should just get a competent maid like the Queen has at her Palace.”

There was silence as Soyeon walked over, grabbing an oily lotion and putting it on her hands before she massaged it into my smooth hair, making me sigh in content as I closed my eyes. The floorboard creaked again and I figured Soojin was on her way to pick out a new dress, “You want to keep that old rag?”

Soyeon paused for a second before I felt her grabbing the brush from my vanity, making me open my eyes and hiss when the brush got tangled in the knots in my hair. I gave her a glare through the mirror as she bit her lower lip, embarrassed. If she cries another time I’d rather just jump out the window right now and save myself of this clownery.

“I cannot accept anything that was once Miss Yoon’s—”

“Oh, Lord,” I muttered with a groan, glaring at Soojin through the mirror, “Just keep that wrenched dress, nobody will have your head for it! I’m letting you wear it. Do you need anyone else to give you permission to do so?”

Soojin shook her head as she averted her eyes, and I hummed, settling back in my seat as Soyeon finally started braiding my hair, “Good, then stop whining and asking for attention and keep it.”

“Miss Yoon, your generosity is unlimited.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at Soojin’s obvious flattery.

“Of course, it is.” I muttered and watched Soyeon through the mirror as my other maid disappeared back inside my huge closet filled with pretty dresses to the brim. Soyeon kept sniffing and avoiding eye contact as my stare turned insistent, but her hands worked diligently as she braided my hair the way I liked it. My curly hair was long as it reached the middle of my back and dense, making it hard for everyone but Soyeon to maneuver it any way she wanted to. Two curly front pieces were left alone to frame my face as the braided the rest from the sides, creating the impression of a small crown in my hair. She usually put gemstones in it and left the rest hang freely against my shoulders after she ruffled it up to make it fluffier looking. When she was done with my hair, I crossed my arms in front of my chest and threw her a glare, watching as her body visibly tensed.

“Did I mess up, Miss Yoon? Do you not like your hair?” Her voice was squeaky and I huffed.

“At least look me in the eyes when you speak to me, brat.” I snapped and Soyeon quickly looked up, her eyes filled with tears. I groaned loudly at her theatrics and leaned forward, opening my chest of stollen, borrowed, goods. The first pearl necklace that my eyes fell on belonged to a maiden from a charity event, and I grinned as I grabbed it, raising it up to my eyes to inspect it from up closer. Soyeon watched me through the mirror and I stood, turning around. I was almost two heads taller than her, “Take it and stop being a cry-baby. But don’t let my father know or he’ll have your hands for stealing it.”

“Is this—not yours, Miss Yoon?” Soyeon asked reluctantly as Soojin walked back inside the room, holding a gorgeous sage green dress that once belonged to my mother. I grinned as she raised the dress up, my eyes drinking in the lace and small flower designs on it. It would be perfect for the ball; I couldn’t wait to wear it now.

“Of course, it’s not mine, Soyeon. Do I wear such cheap jewelry such as this?” I chuckled and pressed the pearl necklace forcefully into my maid’s hands. These two knew about my little hobby of stealing from others, but I made them swear to never tell my father as he’d certainly punish me for doing such lowly things, and forbid me from going to balls and tea parties with the ladies from the neighboring houses. I couldn’t let that happen, I was already bored and dying every day in this boring mansion surrounded by servants and my father. I needed something which would bring life in me, excite me and show me what the world consisted of.

“I cannot accept this—”

“I said, take it, and stop crying so much.” I huffed and walked away, watching as the maid struggled not to drop the pearl necklace, “Get lost, now, I will change on my own.”

And it didn’t take long for the two maids to scramble out of my room, leaving me alone as I sighed loudly and walked inside my dressing room. The curtains were drawn but I opened them as I stared out the window again, longingly watching the ship in the distance as I grabbed my stockings to wear over my undergarments. What would a life on the sea feel like?

            After wearing a soft pink dress and making sure I looked presentable, I made my way to the gardens to greet my father first before we walked to the little fountain where his friends were gathered around, laughing about something inaudible to us. I plastered on my sweetest smile as my father gripped my arm slightly tighter, signaling that I should stand up even straighter. I chuckled, but cursed him in my head as the corset I was wearing was already constricting enough. If I stood any straighter it would dig into my flesh and make it bleed by the evening, but I obliged to my father’s wish as Mr. Lee noticed us and grinned like a Chesire cat. I hated that ugly man. He was always eating something, his fingertips greasy because of it, and he was greedy. All he saw were the assets he placed into something and how even the smallest business could bring more money to him. My father was blind to his schemes of trying to rob us, but thankfully, his smart little daughter was always there to convince him against doing business with Mr. Lee, and thus saving our legacy.

“Mr. Yoon!” Sir Oh exclaimed, an obnoxious and quite annoying man, waving happily towards us, “Lovely sunshine, we thought you’d never make it here today.”

The man around him laughed and I chuckled, although I wished to spit at them and press their heads under the water of the fountain. I hated it when they called me any names, and certainly Sir Oh was my least favorite as he found a stupid new nickname to call me by for each time he came to visit us.

“Friends, it’s been a while, hasn’t it been?” My father asked with a chuckle as he patted my hand, then released me, finally. It’s been exactly two weeks since these idiots have seen each other, yet they were being more dramatic about it than me and my tea party ladies would ever be.

“It certainly has been.” Mr. Yu, perhaps the man I hated most as he was quite unashamed with his advances towards me, and he was hitting the age of fifty. Who wanted a scrawny old man good for nothing but reading his newspaper and crying about the weather? Certainly not me, “Miss Yoon, just as beautiful as always.”

I chuckled as I masked my disgust, plastering on a fake smile, “You flatter me, Mr. Yu.”

My father chuckled and beckoned everyone over to the round table, asking us to sit down. I certainly did not want to be here and entertaining these fools, but I had no choice but to appease my father as he promised to buy me a ruby sometime next week, if I behaved well today. My little gemstone collection hadn’t been updated in long, it certainly was about time I got something new and shiny. A diamond would’ve been better, but my father said he couldn’t find one in our region just yet—how tragic. Before my father could sit, he seemed to remember something and he quickly excused himself, hurrying back towards the house. He left me alone with the wolves, and I remained collected as I watched his friends eyes taking me in closely. I chuckled and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest. It didn’t help that the corset was already pushing up my breasts, sitting uncomfortable due to the metal digging into my waist.

“Lovely weather today, isn’t it, Mr. Yu?” I spoke up disinterested, but the men didn’t seem to notice as he went off about how the weather was lovely, the breeze just perfect, and the waves not too harsh if anyone wanted to go for a swim. And of course, the sun was just perfectly hot today, not strong enough to burn your skin, but enough to leave a nice tan. Good thing I didn’t expose much of myself, then.

“Any charming men on the horizon, Miss?” Sir Oh inquired with a small laugh, but it was easy to see the curiosity on his face as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes twinkling. Of course, to men like him it didn’t matter that a wife and three children were waiting for him to return home. All he cared about was young flesh for a night, something to satiate his needs and reassure him that he’s still got in him, that he was still capable of charming ladies left and right. It was sad how Sir Oh failed to notice that it was just his money drawing in clueless ladies, ready to extort him of it. It was rather hilarious, yet disgusting at the same time.

“Tell me, Sir Oh, what can you see on the horizon?” I raised my eyebrows as all three men across me turned their heads towards the sea, which was perfectly visible from our veranda overlooking it. I didn’t have to look to know that the ship was still there. I smirked as they remained silent, telling that they didn’t know more than I did.

“You must have surely heard of pirates before, Miss Yoon.” Mr. Lee said mystically, head turning to look me in the eyes, “There’s rumor that Ateez had sailed close to our shores—”

“Ah, nonsense!” Mr. Yu exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, “There’s no such thing as those dirty criminals nearing our shores. The Navy fleet will take them out in no second!”

“I wouldn’t bet too much on that, Mr. Yu.” Mr. Lee chuckled, his eyes traveling back onto the sea. Intrigued, I also looked towards the sea, eyes finding the ship in the distance. Pirates, they say? Doesn’t that sound exciting? I grinned as I imagined what they must look like and what they might want from our humble town. Surely if they were looking for our Queen, then they were in the wrong spot. Our Queen was miles away from us, unfortunately.

“Are these so-called pirates dangerous?” I asked with feigned ignorance, and Mr. Lee snorted as if I had asked a hilarious question. I refrained from glaring at him as I turned my head to face the men again.

“Dangerous?! Pray they never find a young woman like yourself and ravage you.” My glare was instant as I didn’t even try to hide it, jaw clenching at Mr. Lee’s blatant offensive remark. He had no shame, it was disgusting.

“Mr. Lee!” Sir Oh exclaimed, looking alarmed, “Apologize to Miss Yoon, right now!”

Mr. Yu looked just as appalled, acting as if he hadn’t tried sleeping with me not even one week ago. It still made my skin crawl as I bit back a snarl, raising my eyebrows at Mr. Lee.

“My apologies, Miss Yoon, that was harsh—”

“It merely mirrors your own thoughts, Mr. Lee.” I cut him off with a spiteful glare and the men looked shocked for a second as my face morphed into pure hatred, “You all act like saints in front of my father, and then you try to have your way with me behind his back. Pathetic, especially if your wives were to know.”

The men remained gaping as I stood up, plastering on a wide smile when I heard the clanking of cups against a tray coming from behind. My father must’ve gone back to ask the servants to bring tea and cookies. The three men in front of me struggled to gathered themselves and fix their expressions, but when my father appeared next to me, they quickly did so. I gave them a look before turning to face my father.

“Papa, all this sitting in the sun is making me feel lightheaded,” I made my voice sound soft and weak as I pouted, grabbing my father’s hand, “Would you mind if I were to excuse myself?”

“My dear, not at all!” He exclaimed and pressed a palm against my forehead alarmed, “You’re burning up, head inside quickly!”

“Thank you, papa.” I pressed a kiss against my father’s cheek and he squeezed my hand reassuringly before turning to face a servant, Shindong.

“Please, walk my daughter back to her room.” My father instructed softly, “Make sure she has enough water and ask the cook to prepare soup for her. Let her maids know about her early return too, Shindong. Thank you.”

The servant bowed his head and extended a hand towards me, prompting me to hold his gloved hand as he helped me away from the chair and around the table. I knocked my leg into the foot of Mr. Yu’s chair as I passed behind him, acting as if I stumbled a bit. I leaned down and grabbed a silver spoon from the ground, which obviously wasn’t there but I had grabbed it off the tray before Shindong could realize, and pretended to pick it up.

“Mr. Yu, when did you drop this?” I asked with confusion as I held the spoon in my hand, eyebrows furrowed. Minhyuk, the servant who was setting the table looked alarmed for a second, counting the spoons on the table and the ones still on his tray, looking lost as he looked at the one I was holding. I tried to bite down my smirk, amused by their confusion as to how the spoon landed on the ground when one hadn’t even been served to Mr. Yu yet.

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Our fingers touched and I suppressed the shiver threatening to shake my body, Shindong gingerly holding my hand as I bowed my head lightly, swiftly pulling my hand back from Mr. Yu’s. My father shooed Shindong and I away, and I happily obliged as the servant walked us back towards the house, my fist hidden behind my back as the weight of a silver ring laid heavily in my hand. Away from everyone, I allowed the smirk to finally plaster on my face as I yanked my hand out of Shindong’s, raising the silver ring up Mr. Yu had on his finger a few seconds ago. Shindong gave me a small glance, but remained silent as he lead the way back to my room, telling me that Soojin and Soyeon would be soon here if I needed anything. I entered my room without saying anything, inspecting the huge ruby molded into the silver. I didn’t have to wait another week to get my hands on a ruby, after all. Maybe Mr. Yu was good for something.

            The day seemed to drag on after I returned to my room, jumping on my fluffy bed face down and groaning loudly as the waves crashing against the rocks echoed inside my room through the opened window. It was indeed a lovely day and I found myself craving to go on a walk, but with my father’s friends here, I couldn’t go, because my father never allowed me to leave the mansion without him by my side. I could’ve gone with one of the servants, or even guards, but he never trusted them enough to let me out with them. Or maybe Shindong had snitched on me after the few rare occasions I was allowed to go outside with the guards as I have disappeared for a few hours. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, so I didn’t understand their distress and my father’s anger and concern when he came storming inside my room and yelling at me that I was to stay in my room for the next week. It was horrible, but with the help of my maids, I did manage to sneak out to the gardens every night, laying in the soft grass and gazing at the bright stars, daydreaming about a life where a rich prince whisked me away on his white horse. The reason why I even disappeared for a few hours was simple, and many would’ve laughed at it, not punished their child for it. I just wanted to buy some pastries and roam the cobblestone covered roads of our buzzing town, later headed to the beach to take a quick swim. But my father couldn’t look past his worry and anger to realize that I was merely craving some fun and freedom from his close watch.

But I knew how to use my father’s friends being here to my advantage, and after changing into a dress lighter than the one I wore in the morning, I tied my hair in a low bun and sneaked out of my room. There were few times when I was allowed to read whatever that wasn’t essential to my education, and so I skipped my way towards the library, hiding from the servants who’d roam the halls as they were headed to their duties. I knew if Shindong saw me he’d snitch to my father, that loyal bastard. He was very good at his job, but perhaps too good as he was my father’s second eyes, never failing to notice any missteps I had taken. At least he was smart enough to keep it to himself when he caught me borrowing goods from others. I knew my maids were looking for me, Soyeon’s desperate calls quiet as they carried down the empty hallways, prompting me on to do better and hide so that they wouldn’t find me. And my plan of reading in the library from the forbidden section, which were actually my mother’s most favorite romance novels, turned into me playing hide and seek with my very desperate sounding maids as they ran mindlessly up and down the hallways, searching every room as I stood hidden behind curtains, trying to contain my giggles. However, my fun was short lived when Minhyuk easily found me, his lips pulled into an amused smile. He was barely twenty-five and we were never allowed to be in the same chambers on our own, but my father was apparently looking for me, and Minhyuk was the first one to find me. I stuck my tongue out at him as he lead the way towards my father’s study room, ushering me inside with a chuckle when I threw him a glare.

“You had called for me, papa?” I asked with a sweet smile, voice soft as it carried around in the quiet room. My father hummed as his eyes raised from the map he was inspecting, suddenly looking tired. His foolish friends must’ve tired him out with their stupid stories.

“Did you happen to see a silver ruby ring, by chance, my dear?” My eyebrows furrowed as I jutted my lower lips out innocently, and shook my head no, “I understand, thank you, my dear. Mr. Yu swears he lost his ring here somewhere, but we both know that man is just simply forgetful.”

“And old and ugly.” I muttered under my breath with a sneer, which was quickly gone when my father looked at me with raised eyebrows. I fixed my expression and smiled sweetly at him.

“Oh, papa, don’t you wish to go on a walk with your dear daughter?” I asked as I walked closer to him, letting my hand rest on his as I leaned against his sturdy desk, “We’ve still got a few hours before sunset, it would be lovely to take a walk on the beach. You look tired, the fresh and warm breeze will do you good, papa.”

My father smiled and hummed, turning his hand around to grab mine in his, squeezing our hands together, “You are just as bewitching as your mother once was, my dear. But I must refuse your proposal, I’m afraid.”

“But papa—” My whiney voice got cut off by my father’s chuckle, shaking his head as he released my hand and pushed his chair back.

“You didn’t let me finish, my dear.” He grinned as a mischievous look appeared on his face, making my eyebrows raise in curiosity, “We’ve been invited to Mrs. Boo’s ball, you might want to get ready for that—”

I squealed loudly as I leaped at my father and pressed a kiss against his cheek, twirling around in his spacious study as my heartbeat quickened. So my stupid maids were right, after all! And I didn’t even have to wait much more until we’d get to attend the ball, this was like a blessing, “Papa! I must get ready then! It’s been too long since we’ve been to a ball—and oh, the balls organized by Mrs. Boo are always so—majestic.”

My father chuckled as he listened to me ranting, just nodding his head as I hurried towards his door, “See you before sunset, father. I shall be ready by then!”

“You better or else you’ll be staying here.” His threat was empty, but I still pretended to be scared as I clumsily saluted him, making my father laugh as I left his study in a hurry, running down the hallways to reach my room as fast as I could.

“Soojin! Soyeon!” I shouted as I passed by the kitchens, where these two seemed to spend most of their time if they weren’t with me, “I’m going to a ball tonight!”

            And the preparations for the ball took time, because everything had to be perfect. Even the curls in my hair had to sit perfectly, enhanced by Soyeon as we decided to let my hair fall freely tonight, barely braiding a few strands at the sides, which she clipped back so that the front pieces would frame my face nicely, enhancing my sharp cheekbones. Soojin helped by adding blush to my cheeks, which looked absolutely lovely as it complimented by sun kissed complexion and the lip tint was a dark cherry color, making my lips pop with color. A little bit of glitter had been added to my eyelids and I stood proudly in my dressing room, twirling around in front of the big mirror, admiring the way the sage green dress complemented my frame and skin complexion. The skirt was big and made me feel like a princess, the corset underneath tightly pulled together to keep my posture straight at all times. It got restricting after a while, lungs feeling like they were compressed, but I sucked it up and plastered on a smile despite the growing discomfort if I had to sit rather than stand. The top of the dress was off-shoulders and had long, loose sleeves, and the fabric around my breasts was held together by strings, similar to my corset as lace decorated the surface of it. With sunset nearing, and feeling pleased by my appearance, I headed to the front gates of the mansion, and got inside our little carriage as my father was already there and waiting for me. His eyes widened when I sat across from him and they filled with tears, making me confused as my first thought was that I didn’t look sufficiently good enough for tonight’s ball. I adjusted the golden necklace around my neck uncomfortably, waiting for my father to speak up first.

“You look stunning, my dear.” He whispered before sniffing loudly, looking out the window of the carriage, “Your mother wore this dress the day we met—I didn’t even know you had it.”

I cleared my throat and shrugged, looking down at my hands, “I had visited her chambers not too long ago. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, my dear.” My father quickly reassured me as he reached out for my hand, “She would absolutely love seeing you wearing it, and I am happy as well. You truly did inherit all of her beauty.”

I chuckled as I became shy, lightly bowing my head in gratitude, “In that case, I can’t wait to meet my own rich husband, soon, hopefully.”

My father’s face became grim and he hummed, looking all of a sudden disinterested in the conversation. Of course he did, he always did this when I brought up the subject of husband or even just a simple suitor, “Focus on your studies for now, my dear. Men come and go, but your virtue stays.”

“You always say that, papa.” I mumbled with a sigh and my father tsked.

“A lady does not mumble; she speaks well and clearly. And I always say that because I know what men are like, and until the day you find a man who’s worthy of you, I shall continue deterring the bad wolves away from my little princess. Understand, my dear?”

I hummed with a pout and looked at my father with slight irritation, unable to slump against the plush seat of the carriage due to the corset I was wearing, “Yes, I do, papa. I hear this at least twice a week.”

“Very well,” My father looked amused as he retreated his hand from mine and sat back with a pleased expression, “It means you’ll never forget it.”

And I had remained silent as the carriage finally took off, and for the rest of the ride as well. I couldn’t say that I was mad at my father, but I could still resent him a little bit for keeping me away from every man that I showed even the slightest interest in me. It seemed like nobody was worthy enough. And even when they were, my father somehow managed to find some dirt about them and scare them away, consoling me that he was only showing me the dark side, the secrets these suitors were trying to hide from me. But perhaps, if my father allowed them enough time to stick around for longer, they would’ve told me themselves of these missteps they have taken along the way. Nobody was perfect, despite my desires to believe so, and as long as they had enough money, I could overlook some of their flaws.

The carriage ride didn’t take too long as Mrs. Boo and her family lived quite close to us. I could hear the music from outside the gates already as we have finally stopped moving, and got out of the carriage. My father helped me down and then crossed his arm with mine, keeping me close to himself so that I wouldn’t slip away. I knew it would take only a few glasses of champagne for me to be able to do so anyways, perhaps even faster if the people he knew came over to talk to my father. Most of the times they talked about things that were none of my concerns, and therefore I was allowed to roam around the place as long as my father could see me. And I did just that as we entered the marble covered vast chamber of Mrs. Boo’s family, her ballroom. It was spectacular, like every time, decorated in burgundy and golden accents. It screamed prestige and money, and I was pleased to see that I was the best dressed out of all the young ladies attending the ball tonight. It always brought pleasure and pride to me when I was the prettiest at these events, and it was only proven right when I noticed the jealousy in the other ladies eyes as my father and I walked by them. I grinned at them and mockingly waved, curling my fingers before ignoring them completely. We were barely inside, yet my father already had a glass of champagne in his hands as we were headed towards Mrs. Boo to greet her and thank her for inviting us. I put on my best smile as we arrived in front of her, her puffy cheeks disturbingly pink. Her makeup choices had always been questionable.

“Oh, Mr. and Miss Yoon.” She said delighted as she clapped her hands once, “Lovely seeing you made it.”

“My daughter would have had my head if I dared skipping tonight’s ball.” My father said cordially and I refrained from rolling my eyes.

“The decoration is marvelous, Mrs. Boo, you never fail to amaze me.” I complimented the woman, knowing how much she liked hearing such words. Besides, I knew it meant I would get invited to her next tea party and that was exactly what I was hoping for.

“Thank you, lovely.” She chuckled as she looked past us, her eyes narrowing slightly before she composed her expression quickly. It didn’t take long to realize it was because her son was coming over, face a constant mask of judgement. The two of us had nothing against each other, Seungkwan could be a pleasant companion if he put in a little effort, but otherwise the man was too nagging and posh for my taste. He couldn’t even pull the chair out for himself, let alone for his lover.

“Ah, Junior.” My father chuckled as Seungkwan came to a stop next to his mother, and he released my arm to shake Seungkwan’s hand. I smiled as Seungkwan kissed my hand next, curtsying to him in return.

“It’s been a while, Miss Yoon.”  He said cordially and I hummed, smile fixed on my face.

“Indeed, I see you’re just as healthy as always.” I noted, and Seungkwan’s mother laughed as she patted her son’s shoulder.

“Of course, he is. There isn’t a day my boy doesn’t eat his vegetables.” I nodded in understanding, but didn’t miss the way Seungkwan almost rolled his eyes, “Mr. Yoon, should we leave the young ones alone? I’m not sure you have met Sir Bae yet, father of the Navy fleet’s commandant?”

My father’s eyes widened and he threw me one small glance before he was agreeing to walk with Mrs. Boo, interested in expanding his friend and business list. I scoffed and stepped next to Seungkwan, facing the crowd as we both looked at the dancing people in front of us.

“He’s still breathing down your neck?” Seungkwan asked, finally dropping that irritatingly sweet tone of his. I chuckled and crossed my arms in front of my chest, stealing a grape first from the tray next to me on the table.

“Obviously, I should buy your mother something generous for always seemingly stealing him away at balls like these.” Seungkwan threw me an amused glance before stealing a grape from my hand. I threw him a glare and quickly ate the rest.

“Of course she does. She keeps saying you’ll never find a man if he keeps breathing down your neck.” I chuckled and turned to face Seungkwan.

“And how right she is,” I pinched his cheek teasingly, making him snap my hand away, “Did she play matchmaker again? Where’s your lady for the night?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Seungkwan looked uncomfortable as I chuckled and smirked at him, “She thankfully didn’t have the time to find anyone for the ball, so I’m on my own tonight.”

“Poor you.” I teased and Seungkwan threw me a swift glare as suddenly a man was headed our way. My heart skipped a beat as I straightened my stance, and plastered on a sweet smile on my lips, eyes falling on the tall body of Lieutenant Kim. His body was adorned in his uniform, form lean and strong as the well-worked muscles bulged through the fabric just slightly. His short black hair was swept back, leaving his forehead on display, and I tried to hide my blush at the dashing smile he sent our way. His canines poked through and his cherry-red lips looked soft, complimenting his gorgeous tan skin. Kim Mingyu was a dreamy man, hardworking, and dedicated. He was respectful and extremely smart, and quick on his feet. Every man envied him. He could have anyone he wanted, yet he chose to dedicate his life to the Navy—after I turned him down. Many had called me crazy, but my father was glad. He said Mingyu wasn’t who he portrayed himself to be, and even if that were true, that wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to marry him. Despite his looks and personality, he never actually managed to sweep me off my feet. He never stole my breath away, and he never made me yearn for him. And if love wasn’t like that, I didn’t want it. And I wouldn’t stop until I found this type of love, ethereal, everlasting.

“Good evening,” Kim Mingyu bowed his head, making Seungkwan chuckle, “Mr. Boo. Miss Yoon.”

I giggled quietly when he grabbed my hand with his big one, pressing a lasting kiss against my knuckles as he held eye contact, making Seungkwan scoff next to us.

“The girl rejected you once, Mingyu, what are you doing?” Seungkwan teased his best friend lightly and I chuckled embarrassed, subtly elbowing the man in the ribs. Mingyu had a similar blush on his cheeks to mine as he cleared his throat and threw a warning glare at his friend.

“I’m merely greeting her the way a man is supposed to, Seungkwan, jealous?” The banter between the two was natural, their love language full of teasing and nagging each other.

“You wish I were.” Seungkwan chuckled and whisked away three glasses of champagne from a tray as a servant passed by with it. I made sure my father wasn’t looking as I accepted one, clanking my glass against the other two men’s.

“How are you feeling tonight, Miss Yoon?” Mingyu looked at me and I hummed, looking over the dancing crowd, an idea occurring in my mind. I looked back at the tall man with a grin and pressed my glass of champagne into Seungkwan’s chest.

“I would be doing a lot better if a handsome man cared to ask me to dance.” The cheeky smile kicked Mingyu into action as he pressed his own glass into Seungkwan’s chest, making him groan. Mingyu took my hand tenderly and gestured towards the dance floor.

“May I, then?” He asked dashingly, his smile leaving me a blushing mess once again. I chuckled, out of embarrassment, and then nodded as he lead us towards the dancing crowd.

“Of course, leave me all by myself, you two!” Seungkwan called after us, but didn’t seem too sad as he got to drink not only his champagne, but ours too. Mingyu lead us towards the end of the room, where the crowd wasn’t so dense, and where my father couldn’t see us well, and I chuckled. Mingyu knew about my father’s rules as I have told him once, and he always enjoyed breaking them, angering my father a little each time. Perhaps that was the reason why he didn’t like Mingyu. Mingyu’s calloused hand took a firm hold of my waist as his other held my hand gingerly, and I allowed my hand to rest against his firm shoulder, the fabric soft under my tender touch.

“You look gorgeous, Miss Yoon.” Mingyu said, sounding almost breathless as he looked down at me. I chuckled and bowed my head slightly as I followed Mingyu’s lead, the orchestra playing a slow and lovely song.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Kim, you have been certainly turning heads as well tonight.” Mingyu laughed as he nodded, looking over the crowd. He was taller than most people in here, even in my heels, the top of my head barely reached above his eyes.

“I have noticed,” He said as his eyes fell back on me, and I raised an eyebrow teasingly, “But my eyes were only on you the whole time, Miss Yoon.”

I didn’t mean to blush as hard as I did, and Mingyu chuckled, squeezing my waist for a second as I cleared my throat, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. Averting my eyes to avoid blushing even more, I looked at the beautiful necklace hidden beneath Mingyu’s uniform’s collar, and I found my fingers absentmindedly toying with the gold. Mingyu didn’t seem to mind as he hummed along to the music, swaying us expertly to it. I looked around and noticed my father glaring in our direction furiously before Mrs. Boo noticed as well and whisked him away, pulling him towards a smaller crowd of both men and women, who seemed to be deep in discussion. Mrs. Boo and I made eye contact and she winked sneakily, making me grin as I looked back at Mingyu. He was already looking down at me and I cleared my throat.

“How were your days lately? Is the job demanding?” I made conversation, genuinely curious of Mingyu’s wellbeing. Mingyu’s lower lip jutted out as he hummed and maneuvered us around a couple almost strategically, so that we wouldn’t crash into them. They apologized before continuing on dancing.

“I’m afraid my job will be always demanding,” Mingyu started with a little smile, “but I enjoy it, so I can’t whine about it too much. It’s been quiet, the waters, I mean…until these past few days.”

“What happened?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing. The orchestra changed the pace and I followed Mingyu as his long legs moved faster, steps still careful so that he wouldn’t step on my heeled toes.

“An unidentified ship has been seen on the horizon,” Mingyu explained, and my eyebrows raised as I suddenly remembered what Mr. Yu had said earlier today, “We can’t really do much if they don’t trespass the border, but we’ve been keeping an eye on them—”

“Do you think they could be pirates?” I didn’t mean to cut the Lieutenant off, but in my excitement I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be this eager when speaking about pirates, so, I quickly fixed my expression as Mingyu looked at me perplexed for a second.

“We know they are pirates, but, Miss Yoon…how would you know that?” Mingyu looked slightly alarmed as he lowered his voice and I just shrugged, looking off to the side.

“Word travels fast around here, you shouldn’t be so surprised, Lieutenant.” I gave him a teasing wink and Mingyu chuckled, opening his mouth to say something, when a loud crashing sound disturbed the ambivalence of the room, people gasping and turning their heads to look at where the sound came from. Curios myself, I quickly turned my head around, only to be met with an unfortunate scene. A servant lay on the floor with a tray full of dessert scattered around him, delicious looking sweets now ruined and uneatable. However, what caught my attention was the peculiar actions of the man crouched down next to the servant, who was scrambling around to put everything back on the tray. I could see the profile of the unknown man as he grinned at the servant, mumbling something to him before stealing a cherry off the tray, making the few ladies still watching gasp as he ate it. My eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up at the action, but the man seemed not to care that the cherry had been on the dirty floor just seconds ago. As he stood up, I was taken aback by his height. Perhaps he lacked a few centimeters compared to Mingyu, but he was still toweringly tall. He cleared his throat and fixed the collar of his long, black, velvet coat, sweeping his hands through his long, blonde hair. My eyes followed the action and remained fixed on the stranger’s ringer clad fingers, the jewelry huge, shiny, and expensive looking. His whole outfit looked expensive, but I didn’t get the chance to have a better look at it as he patted the servant on the back and waltzed off like nothing had happened, his shoulders broad as he had a looming figure.

“Miss Yoon?” My head snapped back around, looking wide eyed at Mingyu as his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Excuse me, I got distracted.” I admitted and quickly cleared my throat, suddenly not in the mood to dance with the Lieutenant anymore. Who was this stranger? I knew everyone who frequented Mrs. Boo’s balls, so who was this mysterious man? My heart skipped a beat at the thought of a new person having moved into town, young and rich. If he was handsome too, I might have just hit the jackpot.

“I was just asking if you got startled.” Mingyu said, bringing me out of my thoughts once again. I plastered on a fake smile and brushed him off.

“Of course, I got startled,” I chuckled and lightly pushed myself away from Mingyu, “Excuse me, but I must hydrate myself now, it’s becoming too warm in here.”

Mingyu looked disappointed as he was forced to let go of me, bowing his head slightly before he led us out of the crowd, saying something, but I wasn’t paying attention to him anymore as I was looking around, eyes searching for the blonde, tall man.

            And my night went on just like that, searching the crowd relentlessly for the stranger, yet never quite finding him. I was only able to catch glimpses of him, he moved as if he was a ghost, gliding through the crowd as if he was trying to evade the people. It was becoming frustrating, and it got even worse when my father found me and demanded I remain by his side as he was unimpressed by me dancing with Mingyu. I said nothing and did as was told, sneakily drinking some more champagne when my father found himself in heated debates about things I wasn’t interested in. But my curiosity sparked even more as I heard a raspy, deep voice laughing not too far from us, the deep baritone carried over even the music. I tried not to be too obvious as I craned my neck and looked around for the voice, eyes widening when they fell on the stranger. He was merely a few feet away, talking to some ladies. He was leaning against a tall table, his fingers circling the rim of his champagne glass as he played with it, red lips pulled into a charming smile. I gulped as my eyes took in every curve of his face, his tall nose and his sharp eyes, his defined cheekbones and a jawline that was very sharp. His eyebrows were thick, but they complimented his features nicely, and his skin looked slightly burnt, like he had been out in the sun excessively. His blonde hair was long and brushed back behind his ears, the roots barely showing. I could see the way the ladies he was talking to were trying to push their chests our even more than their corsets already did for them, and it was hard to miss their blatant flirting as they tried to touch his hand at any given chance. My eyes narrowed as I watched the interaction, every nerve in my body begging me to walk over and introduce myself to the stranger, to earn his undivided attention. My eyes soaked him in, taking in his black outfit, the velvet clinging to his toned body, and I was startled to find he wore nothing underneath his black vest, a vest that didn’t even reach the waistband of his velvet pants. It was a scandalous outfit, too daring, and it was obviously gaining more and more attention as men glared at the stranger and ladies tried to approach him. Perhaps that was the point, to draw attention to himself, and it was working.

I gulped as I watched his lips move, pulled into a smirk as he reached out and fixed the hair of one of the young girl’s, and it made me scoff as I was aware of what he was doing. What I didn’t expect was the way his eyes snapped to me, as if he knew where he had to look, who he had to look at. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t avert my gaze as his remained fixed on me, raising an eyebrow just slightly. I misjudged the distance between us as he very well heard my scoff, and now he was taking me in, a challenging glint in his eyes. My fingers tightened around the glass I was holding and I smirked as I brough the glass up to my lips, taking a sip as the man smirked back, subtly tilting his glass in my direction. Our little exchange caught the attention of the ladies he was with and as they looked at me, they scowled and sent glares my way. I didn’t care, nothing mattered as I was enticed by the handsome stranger, features unique, quickly engraved into my brain.

But our little moment was broken the second a very drunken Sir Oh loudly called out, weaving towards me with his wife on his side, “Little sunshine!”

I tried not to grit my teeth as I was forced to look away from the stranger, but thankfully my father didn’t see the exchange between the two of us as he suddenly started ignoring the man trying to convince him that investing into diamonds was smart as he went to hug Sir Oh, as if they haven’t seen each other just hours ago. I sneaked a subtle glance towards the stranger, but he was gone, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed as I sighed loudly, suddenly wishing to go home…or just leave this party.

             And leave the party I did, of course, after making sure my father was drunk enough to not notice his little princess slipping away. There was nothing enjoyable about the ball anymore. All the men were boring and they only wanted one thing…to get into my good graces, because I come from a well-off family. But they were boring and quite ugly, most of them on poorer side too. I had no interest in listening to their fake stories about all the things they haven’t actually done, but were saying just to try and impress me. I’ve been looking out for the handsome stranger all night long, but I never caught a glimpse of him again. It’s like he suddenly vanished, gone as quickly as he had come. It was disheartening, and I found myself pouting at a boy not even my age, who was boasting about visiting the royal castle and seeing the Queen.

“She is majestic, just like in the stories. Her eyes sparkle, and her crown is filled with diamonds—” I couldn’t listen to him anymore as I scoffed.

“And does Her Majesty drink her tea at five o’clock like everyone else does? Are her dresses of the latest trends made of silk and wool? Please, I am directly linked to the Queen, do you think I haven’t met her already? Talked to her, and spent my days with her?” My tone was snappy, the continuous glasses of champagne I kept sipping on made my world hazy, I couldn’t filter my words like I would usually do so, “Save yourself the grace and get lost, little boy.”

The man standing across me gasped, looking appalled before he turned around, pushing his nose high up in the air. I scoffed and reached forward with a smirk on my face, fingers delicately latching onto the golden chain hanging out of his pocket carelessly. Perhaps this boy should be more careful with his belongings.

And after that, I just slipped through the crowd, making sure I didn’t linger long enough for anyone to notice who I was and where I was headed to. I took a final glance towards my father before I quickly hurried through the wide doors of the ballroom, barely avoiding running into Seungkwan. But it seemed like he didn’t notice me slipping away, and so, with a smile on my face, I was quickly headed towards the outside with one goal in mind. Leave the Boo estate and go find something fun to do for the remaining of the night. I couldn’t tell what time it was exactly, not that it mattered judged by the slight hammering of my head and the haze surrounding my thoughts, and the dizziness clouding my vision. People threw curious glances at me as they noticed me walking without my father, but I just ignored them and smiled widely once I had reached the front gates. The two guardians looked at me with confusion written all over their faces as they shared a glance.

“Miss Yoon, everything alright?” One of them asked, and I smiled sweetly as I nodded wordlessly.

“Leaving without your father?” The other one inquired, crocking an eyebrow. I chuckled and subtly pushed my chest out, not missing the way their gazes fixated on the exposed skin of my collarbones.

“He’ll be here in a moment,” I spoke up, voice sickly sweet as I smiled charmingly at them, “I will go ahead and find our carriage.”

“But Miss Yoon—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” I tsked and shook my finger at the two bewildered men, “I am very capable of being on my own, gentlemen, don’t you think so?”

They said nothing as they shared a look, but ultimately allowed me to walk past as they sighed in unison, shrugging. I flashed them another wide smile and took off, giggling as my feet carried me towards the unknown, enjoying the warm salty breeze of the night, the waves crashing against the huge rocks loud as I was closer to the cliffs here. I took a glance behind myself, making sure nobody was following me, before I stopped to take a deep breath, closing my eyes. Freedom has never felt so good before, and I couldn’t help but raise my arms in the air and twirl around while chuckling, watching the way the skirt of the dress swirled around with me. But perhaps twirling around wasn’t a smart idea when your world was already spinning, and I came to an abrupt stop as nausea suddenly washed over me, making my eyebrows furrow as bile raised in my throat. There was absolutely no chance that a lady, a princess, like myself would throw up, therefore I took three deep breaths and anchored myself. No sudden actions should make this fine. I nodded to myself and took off again, headed to the town square, where I knew some pubs would be still open at this hour. Perhaps going to a pub alone, a beautiful woman like myself, wasn’t the brightest idea, but I wanted to see what it was like. I’ve never been to one, I only heard stories from the ladies I spent the tea parties with. I wanted to experience the same fun they had each time when going to a pub, I wanted to meet new people and perhaps…find a suitor. That was all I needed to remember the handsome stranger, and I couldn’t help but blush as I remembered his sharp eyes holding eye contact with me, his plush lips curling up into a dashing smirk, glint playful in his eyes. Everything about him screamed confidence, and I couldn’t help but giggle as I envisioned him sweeping me off my feet, carrying me effortlessly in his strong arms.

My journey came to a quick stop as Mrs. Boo didn’t leave too far from the square, and my attention was easily taken by the loud pub from the corner of the street. The lights were on inside and music poured out through the open door, very different from the soft music the orchestra had played at Mrs. Boo’s ball. The music was livelier here, heavier and louder, I found myself liking it as I approached the pub, taking in the exterior of it. The bricks were white and the windows sparkling, the dim lighting of the place pouring outside. A man stumbled through the doors clumsily, clutching his hat to his chest as he mumbled incoherent things to himself. His eyes fell on me as he looked up, and his face looked funny. It was oddly red and his eyes looked crisscrossed as he tipped his head in my direction, making me frown at him. The stench coming off him was disgusting and I quickly walked past him, marching inside the pub. The music got louder now that I was inside, but it wasn’t unbearable, you could still overhear the conversations people had…maybe because almost everyone was shouting. There was a weird smell in the air, and I covered my nose as I walked further inside, looking for a free table. Most were occupied by men and women, gathered around in large groups. The dim lightning and the weird smell made my head spin more, but I was proud of myself that I managed to walk in a straight line, eyes set on the free table towards the back of the pub. In my tipsy state, I missed the curious or hungry gazes sent my way, men watching me like haws, women scowling at me, acting as if I was here to steal their men.

When I finally reached the table, I gripped the chair and pulled it back, surprised by its heaviness as it dragged loudly against the wooden floorboards, but thankfully the music was loud enough to mask the atrocious sound. Despite being—probably—tipsy, I managed to sit down graciously, adjusting the skirt of my dress so that nobody would step on it and that I wouldn’t pull a string loose. The dress was dear to me, after all, it once belonged to my deceased mother. And it is also a very pretty, and pricey, dress. The corset seemed to get tighter for a second as I found myself gasping for air, eyebrows furrowing as I straightened my back to the point my back muscles were numb. I couldn’t dwell on the sudden ache for much longer as someone approached the table, looking rather perplexed by my presence here.

“Miss,” It was a young boy, perhaps fifteen, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” I fired back, raising my eyebrows unimpressed.

“I work here.” He answered, looking away for a second, “And if you sit down then you must order something as well.”

“Fine,” I huffed, looking around the place. I had definitely seen worse places before, they certainly must have something that is worth my money here, “Bring me your finest wine, then.”

“Can you afford it?” I was appalled by the blatant mockery in the young boy’s tone, eyebrows raised and expression demanding as I snorted loudly, digging my hand down the front of my dress, between my breasts. The boy’s eyes widened and he quickly averted his eyes, cheeks flushing. I rolled my eyes before pulling my hand out of my dress, bringing it above the table and opening my palm. The sudden loud clanking caught the young boy’s attention as he turned his head, eyes widening as he looked at all the goods I had disregarded on the wooden table. I smirked at him, leaning my arms on the table as I leaned towards him.

“Do you think I can afford it?” I asked arrogantly, cocking an eyebrow. The boy just gulped and averted his eyes quickly.

“I’ll be by with our best wine, Miss.” I smiled and shushed him away quickly, looking back down at the little treasures I had borrowed throughout the night. A hairpin filled with tiny emeralds, a golden chain attached to an old looking golden pocket watch, three engagement rings with diamonds, a simple golden chain with a cross medal, and Mingyu’s necklace with a trident pendant. I placed my hands over them and pulled them towards myself, making sure nobody could steal them away from me. I debated whether or not in giving Mingyu’s necklace away as well, but in the end settled on slipping it back inside my corset, patting my chest down to make sure it was secured between my breasts. I didn’t have it in myself to part with this item, after all, Mingyu wasn’t a bad man nor ever had any bad intentions towards me. But as we danced tonight, I just couldn’t help myself. By the time I noticed what I had done, the thin golden necklace was clutched tightly in my palm, the trident pendant digging into the skin of my palm, a reminder that what I had once started doing as a joke, had now turned into a serious issue. I never truly meant to steal people’s things, but after realizing that I was so swift they wouldn’t even notice me taking their things away, it became a game to me. A curiosity to see how far I could get before somebody finally caught me. I knew my father would be devastated that his little daughter was a thief, or a kleptomaniac, and I would also probably go to prison since I was too wealthy to have my hand cut off. The constable would never do such horrendous thing to a girl like me.

My attention was suddenly caught by the man shuffling next to my right, head slightly bowed as he gripped a pint of beer in his clammy looking hand. His hair was already greying and his face was wrinkly. To be fair, he looked quite disgusting as he raised his head and flashed a yellow toothed smile my way, making me cringe. I covered away when he stepped even closer, mouth pulled into a grimace as the man tried to smirk, but he could barely stand on his feet as he had to lean into the table for support.

“Youn’ girl like yerself shouldn’t be in her’.” His words were slurred, but he seemed too determined to speak to me to realize that, “It’s dangerous.”

“I can see that,” I eyed the beer he held in his hand, dangerously close to my dress, “I would like it if you kept your cheap beer away from my dress.”

“Yer a spoiled one, eh?” He snickered, raising his beer up to his lips as he took a huge swing of it. I cringed at the action and looked around, trying to find the boy working here. He must surely tell this weird man to leave me alone. He would do that for me, right?

“And you’re disgusting, old, and poor.” I snapped back, glaring viciously at the man as he suddenly cackled as if I said something funny.

“The feisty ones are good in bed.” My jaw would’ve probably hit the floor if it could, eyes widening at his disgusting words. I huffed loudly, blood boiling at his blatant audacity. My hands clenched into fists and my jaw tightened as I glared furiously at this disgusting pig, a few seconds away from kicking the pint of beer out of his hand and smashing the glass on his head. But just as I pushed my chair back to scream at the man and chase him away, a tall figure inserted himself between the man and myself, black velvet coat way too familiar. It took a few seconds for my hazy brain to catch on that it was the stranger from Mrs. Boo’s ball. My eyes widened as I stared at the back of his head awestruck, wondering whether this was real or if my alcohol infused brain was playing tricks on me now.

“What did you just say?” The man’s voice was very deep, sharp, and it made me shiver as I continued staring at his blonde hair. His shoulders were incredibly broad from up-close, and I suddenly caught a whiff of something very sweet, almost vanilla like. It hadn’t been there before the stranger’s arrival, and it made me bite my lower lip as I felt even more drawn to the stranger.

“How dare you talk to a lady like that, you disgusting pig?!” The stranger’s voice was gravely and I watched taken aback as he took another step towards the old man, towering over him almost dangerously, “You’re lucky there’s too many people watching—otherwise I would’ve cracked your skull open, asshat.”

The old man seemed speechless as he stared up at the handsome stranger with shaking eyes, seemingly at a loss of words, “What—yer asking for it, son! Uneducated prick. How dare you talk to a lord like that? I will call the constable on you—”

“And I will tell the constable that you had been harassing my betrothed.” My heart skipped a beat as my eyebrows rose, staring at the stranger’s profile as I cocked my head to the right. Very subtly, he turned his head towards me and we made eye contact for a second. His lips twitched and I was sure he was trying not to smirk. My alcohol infused brain found the situation hilarious but also interesting, and I found myself playing along as I stepped up next to the handsome stranger, latching onto his right arm.

“Can you make this pig go away, love?” I asked with a pout, throwing a side glance at the old man. His face had turned red and he was glaring dagger at us, it almost made me chuckle. As I looked up in the stranger’s small, but sharp, eyes, the wind was knocked out of my lungs. He was so handsome, breathtaking from up-close. His features were sharp and nothing like I had seen before, a stray strand of blonde hair falling in his eyes. His dark eyes were warm and inviting, even playful as he chuckled, nodding his head at me.

“Will you turn away if I have to punch him?” His deep voice caught a lighter tone and I gulped, trying to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. I was sure my cheeks were warm, tinged red due to this handsome stranger. My body was reacting in a way it never had towards a man before.

“You shouldn’t bloody your pretty hands because of an incompetent leech.” I found myself saying, my left hand slipping down his arm and intertwining with his fingers. I could hear my own heartbeat, it was very loud and it was in my throat, thumping fast and strongly as the stranger tightened his hold against mine, his cold rings digging into my skin. His palm was calloused and big, almost engulfing mine wholly in his. They were warm and it made my skin feel even hotter than it already was before. Suddenly, he turned his head and his jaw locked, eyes narrowing at the old man.

“Get lost.” His words were punctuated and I watched as a dark look crossed his features, for a second making me question whether he was dangerous or safe to be around. But as he faced me again, his features relaxed and he flashed a wide smile at me, his teeth impeccably white, the front ones protruding a little, giving him a boyish look. His tall nose scrunched and his small eyes became even smaller, and I found myself completely enticed by him. I didn’t realize I let out a small sigh, having forgotten about the old prick as he had finally walked away, muttering profanities under his breath. I couldn’t care anymore as I kept staring into the handsome stranger’s eyes, seeing galaxies in them, dark brown chocolate swirling around his irises. I had completely forgotten that we were holding hands, too taken by his face, and suddenly, he detached himself from me. My body instantly felt cold as he took a small step away from me, a smirk adorning his lips. My eyebrows lightly furrowed as the dim lights swirled around me, but it was clear that he was about to walk away. And I couldn’t let that happen.

“Wait,” I reached out, griping his hand once again, stopping the handsome stranger from leaving, “If you leave right now, that old man will come back to bother me more. Since you lied, we better stick to it.”

The stranger’s eyebrows lightly furrowed as his eyes slowly fell onto our joint hands, and I swiftly let his hand go, feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment. He looked at my face again, but I couldn’t hold eye contact with him just yet.

“You’re right, darling.” My eyes snapped up at the nickname, skin tingling and my stomach doing a weird flip at the hear of it. The stranger smiled at me dashingly, pointing for me to sit as he pulled out a chair for himself. I gulped, not quite considering what I was getting myself into as I took my seat at the table. It was silent between us as the stranger settled down too, our eyes meeting again despite me shying away quickly, all of my confidence suddenly out the window. The handsome stranger opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the young boy working here appeared with a glass of wine and two tall glasses in his hands. My eyes snapped to him as he placed everything down on the table, looking at me expectantly once he poured wine for us. I chuckled and gathered the jewelry I had borrowed and placed it in his open palm. However, the boy didn’t leave right away, he picked at the golden pieces with a frown on his face, looking back at me with narrowed eyes.

“Wasn’t there another necklace?” He asked, his voice judgmental. I chuckled as I grabbed my glass of wine and raised it to my mouth, smelling it. It seemed sweet, but not very fresh. It probably wasn’t from around here. I looked at the boy as I took a small sip of the wine, the taste not quite like I was expecting it to be. Ah, perhaps this is the best this pub could offer.

“Will you serve me actual good wine if there was another one?” I raised an eyebrow, smirking in victory when the boy rolled his eyes, storming away while mumbling, ‘spoiled princess’ under his breath. I chuckled, having forgotten for a second that the handsome stranger was sitting at the table with me. His snort alerted me and I quickly looked at him, but he just stook a large sip of his wine, eyebrows scrunching almost in distaste.

“Oh, well, that’s damn sweet.” My eyebrows raised at his choice of words; his voice gruff as he grimaced. He looked like a gentleman through and through, it was quite rare to hear them cursing, let alone around ladies. This stranger was quite interesting. I took another sip of my drink, checking for the taste again, but I didn’t find it as repulsive as the stranger made it seem to be. I chuckled, quirking an eyebrow in his direction.

“Do you not like it?” I asked lightly, motioning around us, “Would you like a pint of beer like all the other disgusting pricks from inside this pub?”

The man chuckled like I had said something funny, when my question was meant to be very serious. I wanted to know who I was dealing with.

“No, darling, I prefer rum.” He said with a smile, winking as he gulped down the rest of his wine in one go. My eyes widened at that and I glanced back down at my glass, finding that I had barely drunken anything from it. I had to catch up with him, I supposed. This was stupid, deep down I knew it was. What was I doing in a scruffy pub drinking wine with an insanely attractive stranger? This was so dangerous, I could get in so much trouble…yet my mind was focused on different things at the moment due to the alcohol intoxicating it, like the huge ruby ring this man wore on his left middle finger. His hands were placed on the table as he was playing with the glass, passing it between his large hands, his lower lip sucked between his teeth as I didn’t miss the way his eyes ran over my body, checking me out, “What are you doing here all alone, princess?”

I chuckled at the nickname, my stomach doing another weird flip as I took a bigger sip of my wine, suddenly getting bolder under the watchful gaze of the stranger, “What makes you think I’m alone and not with my guardians?”

“I had to step in to help you, didn’t I?” The stranger chuckled, “I doubt your guardians would’ve let that old asshat harass you like that.”

I couldn’t help but giggle when he said ‘asshat’, finding the word new in my vocabulary. I have never heard anyone saying it before, “You’re cursing quite boldly around a lady, love, don’t you fear your gruffness might drive me away?”

“Is it driving you away?” The stranger asked lowly as he suddenly leaned over the table, getting incredibly close to my face. I gulped as I felt at a loss of words, suddenly very aware of the painful thumping of my head. Would drinking more wine help in making that go away?

“No.” I found myself whispering, mesmerized by the glint in his eyes as the stranger hummed, settling back in his seat. My eyes were drawn back to his hands as he started playing with a particularly big ring, a letter carved on it. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it suspiciously looked like the letter A.

“You wear a lot of jewelry, it’s attractive.” I found myself mumbling absentmindedly, eyes widening when I realized the handsome stranger had heard me. He was in the middle of pouring himself another glass of wine, his eyebrows slightly raising as he looked confused for one little second, complacency quickly overtaking his features. His eyes narrowed slightly as he flexed his fingers, wriggling them even, before continuing to pour some more wine for himself. I cleared my throat and straightened my stance, holding my head high, “I haven’t seen you around before. Have you moved here recently?”

The stranger seemed to ponder for a second before he hummed, looking me in the eyes as he took a sip of his wine, “My name is Song Mingi.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Song.” I smiled brightly at him, finally associating a name to the handsome face, “My name is Yoon Y/N.”

Suddenly, he reached over the table and grabbed my hand, pulling my arm towards himself rather forcefully. I watched with interest as he raised my knuckles up to his plush lips and pressed a lasting kiss against it, his nose pressing into my skin, his breath hot as it hit my skin. Suddenly, everything felt hot around me as I watched him, feeling his soft lips and hot breath against the sensitive skin of my hand, it felt overwhelming as goosebumps covered my skin. I knew my face was flushed, but perhaps it wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. As he finally pulled my hand away from his face, I felt like I could breathe again and at the look in his eyes, I felt forced to take another large sip of my wine, curious as to where things were leading with this mysterious Song Mingi.

“I’m not quite from here,” He explained, still not having released my hand, “But I am from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”

I hummed, hand getting clammy in his grip, so I gently pulled it back, flexing my fingers as I gripped my glass of wine with both hands, “And what are you doing in this quiet town?”

Mingi chuckled, a playful expression on his face, “Hmm, I’d say I’m a traveler.”

“We don’t have many of those here.” I mumbled as I took another sip, coming to the realization that I had finished my wine. My head spun and body felt hot, the air sticky inside the pub, but I couldn’t find it in myself to move just yet. My father was probably losing his mind by now if he noticed his little daughter was gone.

“Have you traveled outside of your little town, Y/N?” Hearing him say my name felt strange, it sent a shiver down my spine. The way his baritone shook with the pronunciation of my name made my mouth go dry all of a sudden, and to my surprise, Mingi was pouring me another glass of wine. It had completely gone over my head that he was being rather informal with me despite having just met each other. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“Of course I have, Mingi.” I paused for a second, watching his reaction to saying his name so casually, but it didn’t seem to bother him, he looked used to it, which was strange, “I’ve visited the Queen’s castle quite a few times already.”

“Oh,” Mingi suddenly seemed quite interested as he leaned forward, one hand reached out on the table, close to mine, “How come?”

I chuckled and shrugged, taking another sip of my wine as Mingi seemed to be patiently waiting for me to continue, “Well, we’re acquittanced, you know?”

His eyes widened for a second, but then he quickly fixed his expression and an overly friendly smile appeared on his lips, “Really? I would have never thought so.”

“Is that so?” I chuckled, licking my smooth lips. It seemed like Mingi thought he might’ve offended me, because his extended hand was suddenly placed over mine, his warm palm pressing against my smaller hand.

“My apologies, darling,” He batted his eyelashes at me, a quite comical look coming from a man, “I did not mean to assume anything. You look quite exactly like a Queen would look like.”

I didn’t mean to laugh so loudly, it was un-ladylike and against everything my governess had taught me, but for some reason I found Mingi’s flattering hilarious. And it was a compliment I hadn’t quite heard before.

“Oh, my, seems like you have met plenty of Queens in your lifetime, then.” I teased him with a cheeky smile. Mingi chuckled, looking down for a second before his gaze connected with mine again.

“I have, and none were as beautiful as you, Y/N.” The obvious and generic compliment shouldn’t have made me blush so deeply, but I opted to blame it on the wine I was consuming currently. I didn’t miss the way Mingi’s lips twitched into a small smirk before he tried to look friendly instead of smug again.

“Don’t you have a way with words, Mr. Song?” I mumbled before taking a small sip of my wine.

“Mingi is just fine.” He corrected and I felt his long finger grazing against my knuckles, caressing them. My heart skipped a beat. I had never been so taken by a man before. Everything about Mingi seemed to draw me in. His looks were the main reason I even paid attention to him in the first place, but his personality was mysterious yet exciting, it kept me wanting to talk to him.

“Mingi, then.” I said with a smile, flipping my hand upside down, Mingi slotted his fingers next to mine instantly, “You must be quite wealthy if you attended Mrs. Boo’s ball tonight.”

Mingi’s smirk returned, but it was cheeky this time, “What if I told you that I sneaked in? Will you continue talking to me? Or will you leave me alone, here at this table, princess?”

I hummed in thought for a second, considering his words. He certainly didn’t look like someone who would sneak into a ball like that, but his behavior was indeed weird. I allowed my eyes to run over his physique, and instantly regretted it as I was presented with his bare chest, the singular vest he had on doing a horrible job at covering the man up. The single silver chain dangling around his neck had my eyes fixated on it, and I had to force my hazy brain to focus on anything else but the way it sat against his collarbones.

“Since you’re being so vague I will continue talking to you, love.” Mingi chuckled, nodding his head, looking quite pleased with my answer, “I only asked because only the richest attend her balls.”

“Oh, really?” Mingi raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his wine, fingers flexing against mine.

“Really.” I said, mirroring him and taking another sip of my wine.

“So, that means you’re filthy rich?” He asked without any hesitation and I laughed again, grinning at him, enjoying how upfront he was.

“Yes, and I would be even richer if my mother hadn’t died.” I might’ve sounded like a spoiled, ungrateful, brat, but I was merely stating the truth. Mingi’s face lit up, an expression unfamiliar overtaking his face. He almost looked hungry…greedy, perhaps. I gulped and watched him, wondering whether saying that was smart or not.

“How come?” He asked nonchalantly, yet the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

“My mother was related to the Queen of the Sun Rise Kingdom, therefore I’m also a descended of the royal family.” If Mingi’s grip on my hand hadn’t been firm, now it turned almost painful, but my heart was racing and I didn’t want him to let go, his skin warm against mine.

“Oh, really?” Mingi grinned like a mad hatter, “So, you’re a princess then?”

I chuckled, shaking my head slowly, “Sadly, I am not. Even though I should be—look at me!”

“Oh, I am looking.” Mingi bit his lower lip as he said that, his intense eyes raking over my body again and suddenly I felt hot all over again, mouth going dry at the sudden shift of his tone and expression, something like hunger appearing in his eyes again, but I couldn’t decipher what it was this time. And I didn’t want to know as my skin tingled once Mingi’s fingers trailed up to my wrist, caressing my soft skin with his lip between his teeth still, “I think you’ve had enough drinks for tonight, princess.”

“Do I?” I challenged as I downed half of my glass in one go, regretting it as it burned my throat slightly. Mingi laughed for the first time, loud and wheezy, head thrown back slightly as he gripped my wrist firmly, fingers hooking around my delicate bracelet. I felt the action and found myself gripping his wrist unconsciously too, linking our hands so nobody would separate us. The silver chain on his wrist dug into my skin, and I found myself gripping it subconsciously, fingers softly feeling around for a clasp. But Mingi suddenly stood, taking my attention off the bracelet my fingers itched to slip off his wrist.

“Darling, let me walk you home,” He carefully pulled me up to my feet, making me aware of how badly my world was spinning around me at this point, “I would hate it if any gentleman took advantage of you.”

“I would hate that as well.” I said as I looked up in his eyes, his body suddenly too close to mine, my eyes landing on his exposed collarbones. Mingi’s hand slipped back down and he intertwined his fingers with mine as suddenly there was a finger underneath my chin, tilting my head up.

“Should I lead the way?” He asked almost breathless, staring down in my eyes deeply. I licked my lips as I watched his lips form the words, lips which looked soft and plush. I wondered what they tasted like.

“Yes, please, lead the way.” I whispered, daring to look back in his eyes once again.

“Good, princess.” And then he maneuvered us out of the pub, the air now chilly as we walked down the dark streets of the town. My world was spinning with me nauseatingly, and the dark made it harder to see anything. I knew which way I had to walk to reach the Yoon Manor, and surprisingly Mingi did too as he lead the way confidently. For someone who wasn’t from here, he knew the roads extremely well. Or maybe I was simply too drunk to realize that Mingi wasn’t leading me back to the safety of my manor, but towards the beach which my room overlooked. The breeze was pleasant despite the chill in the air, and I realized I was struggling to walk in my high heels, ankles aching with each step as Mingi had to steady me, allowing me to lean into his side as he threw one arm around my shoulders, while interlocking his fingers with mine with his other hand. Nothing much was said between the two of us as we continued on walking, huffs and puffs leaving my lips way too often, my eyes threatening to drop every second.

“Mingi,” I whispered, body completely worn out, “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

We stopped walking, and I felt a hand cupping my cheek as I closed my eyes and nuzzled into the warm palm. Suddenly, the familiar sweet scent of vanilla engulfed my senses and I was a second too late to realize that I wasn’t standing on my feet anymore, “Let me carry you, princess.”

I hummed as I allowed my eyes to fall closed shut, arms around Mingi’s neck as he carried me, holding me securely in his strong arms. The vanilla was even stronger, now and I couldn’t help but notice the added scent of salt and…gunpowder? I inhaled deeply as my nose pressed against Mingi’s collarbone, and I heard him gasp quietly.

“Are you sure you know the way towards the Yoon Manor?” I mumbled into his skin, my lips pressing against his warm flesh. Mingi’s hold seemed to tighten as he cleared his throat, voice sounding raspier than before.

“Of course, princess. You can go to sleep now.” And because I was drunk and foolish, I followed his command, closing my eyes and falling asleep to the steady beats of his heart, failing to notice that we were way too far from the Yoon manor…and we’d only get even more far away from it.

            A loud crash resounding around me made me suddenly stir. My body felt cold and stiff as I lay unmoving, eyes squeezed tight shut, suddenly aware of the soft rocking of the bed. It made me wonder where that could be coming from or was it…the alcohol’s fault? Almost as if thinking about it sent some sensors off in my brain, my head started pulsing harshly, making me whine as I raised a hand to press against my forehead, softly rubbing my sweaty skin. My nose scrunched up as I tapped my forehead, then face, realizing the air was quite damp around me as my dress stuck to my skin. With a grimace expanding on my lips, I became aware of the weird stench surrounding me. It smelled like the sea and…fish. And I hated fish, it almost made me gag.

“Soyeon, Soojin.” I croaked out, almost inaudibly, surprised by how dry my throat felt. I gulped a few times, clearing my throat in an attempt of trying to get my voice to work as I called out again, slightly louder, “Soyeon. Soojin.”

I waited a few seconds, listening to the thudding of feet against the marble floors, the opening of my door, but there was nothing. My maids were nowhere to be found…or heard. I huffed and turned onto my side, nuzzling my nose against the silky sheet of the pillow, a little off-thrown by the vanilla scent of it. That’s certainly not what my pillowcases smell like, but perhaps the servants scented it differently this time and failed to let me know about it. That was something they would be reprimanded for as I didn’t like it when they did something without asking me first. I quite enjoy the fruity scent of my pillowcases.

“Soyeon.” I snapped, voice harsher, “Soojin.”

Eyebrows furrowing, I waited for my maids to finally spring into action, but there was nothing still, “Soyeon! Soojin!”

Eyes snapping open furiously, I was about to huff and puff loudly, but my whole blood froze in me. My eyes widened and anger vanished instantly as I realized I was in a foreign room. Eyes turning to the pillow I had my head on, I realized it wasn’t mine, and I instantly sprung up into a sitting position.

What was this?

Where was I?

With a gaping mouth, I took in the room, appalled by its simplicity and—by how mucked up it was. The large closet right next to the bed seemed eaten up by wood-beetles, the door quite off its hinges. Suddenly, I was thrown back into the bed and I groaned, eyebrows furrowing as I couldn’t quite fathom what was happening. There was a rather loud groan coming from somewhere outside this beaten down room, and I sat back up, continuing to take in the room. There was a desk underneath the small round window, and it was littered with books. My interest would’ve been peeked if I wasn’t in an unknown room, which, by the way, made my skin crawl due to its state. There were three large chests on the wall opposite of the bed, all closed, and apparently locked with an iron locket. My heart was beating fast and I felt myself sweating even more as I realized I could’ve been kidnaped, that some disgusting, crazed, man decided to take me captive and only God knows what will happen to me now—Mingi. Wasn’t…didn’t I leave with a man last night? A very handsome stranger, no, Song Mingi. That was his name. But he said he’d take me home, so why was I here right now?

I gasped, pressing my hands against my mouth as the thought occurred that perhaps something happened to Mingi. That would be such a shame, the man was too handsome for his own good. My skin tingled just at the thought of him, and I couldn’t help but blush as hazy memories of being in his arms, nose pressed against his bare skin, resurfaced in my mind. But reality quickly washed over me as there was another tumble to this strange place I found myself in, making me panic once again as I realized I had to get out of here somehow. I needed my father; he would know what to do. Even my maids would know! My lips quivered as I realized I was left alone and defenseless, this crazed man who kidnapped me could do anything to me right now, and I wouldn’t be able to protect myself. I blinked away the tears in my eyes as I reluctantly threw my legs over the edge of the bed, deciding that I needed to do something for myself right now. My father and maids weren’t around to guide me, I had to use all my knowledge while I remained calm and level-headed. But I couldn’t help trying once again, hopeful that this was just a bad dream that I haven’t woken up from just yet.

“Papa!” I screamed loudly, gripping the bedsheets tightly in my hands, “Soojin! Soyeon!”

And suddenly, there was another loud crash coming from outside of the room and I jumped, muscles tensing as my eyes snapped to the door. There was a loud deep groan, and then this weird place rocked violently again, sending something crashing into the door from the outside. I could hear a muffled voice cursing loudly as the door was suddenly flung open, making my eyes widen as I sprung up to my feet in fright. I didn’t know what was about to happen right now, but I was ready to put up a fight if this monster of a man, who dared to kidnap me, tried doing anything to me. But the scream I was ready to let out got stuck in my throat as I was met with a rather familiar face.

In the daylight, he looked completely different. His long blonde hair was in a manbun, a few shorter strands falling out of it as it framed his face. His skin looked to be glowing as sweat sheen on his exposed chest, the skin tan, and smooth looking. Mingi looked even taller in the rather small room we were in, his white shirt unbuttoned down to his chest, three different length silver chains adorning his neck, falling against his tan skin. Leather black pants clung to his muscular thighs, and I was slightly taken aback by his narrow waist, the thick leather belt hugging it tightly, his shirt tucked in. I knew a few ladies who would’ve killed to have his waist.

“Hey, quit screaming.” Mingi hissed, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me with his sharp eyes, “Not everyone is up yet, princess.”

I gulped, trying to gather my thoughts. Why did his voice sound even deeper compared to last night?

“What am I doing here?” I managed to ask, blinking my eyes fast when I caught myself staring at his rather firm chest. Mingi remained silent for a second, staring at me with amusement washing over his face.

“Well, princess,” He started, walking further inside the room, making me step back as the back of my knees crashed into the bed behind me, I felt caged in, “You needed a helping hand last night as you were a tad bit too drunk.”

Mingi chuckled as he watched confusion written all over my face as I tried to place the missing pieces together. Well yes, he wasn’t wrong, I might’ve had too much to drink last night, but that still didn’t explain why I wasn’t currently in my room, with my maids there to take care of me, and with my father screaming at me for running off last night. I could only assume this was Mingi’s place, and it was disgusting. Wasn’t he rich? And if he was, why did his place look like this? Certainly there must be nicer Inns in this little town, why did he willingly choose to stay in the dirties and most beaten down one?

“Well, I—” I cleared my throat as it still felt dry, I found it a little bit hard to speak, “I certainly had a little bit more than a lady like myself is supposed to have.”

I tried to look confident, ignore the light flush of my cheeks as I remembered more of what has happened last night, the way Mingi’s fingers curled against mine, his rings digging into my skin. Almost as if on cue, my eyes travelled down towards his hands, and I wasn’t surprised to find them decorated by big and thick rings, the red ruby on his middle finger almost glinting in the sunlight coming through the small round window of this wretched room. Mingi hummed, making me look back up at his face as I tried to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips. But he didn’t say anything, and it made me nervous as I sniffed, fidgeting on the bed for a second before I stood once again, glancing around the room. Since I wasn’t kidnaped by a scruffy man, but Mingi…did it mean I was here because…something that I failed to recall has happened between the two of us last night?

And as if Mingi could read my mind, a chuckle left his lips, “You move around a lot in your sleep, princess, I certainly got an elbow to my ribs once or twice during the night—”

“During the night?!” I didn’t mean to exclaim as my eyes widened, mouth going even drier, “We—we slept in the same bed?!”

Mingi raised his eyebrows nonchalantly and took another step towards me, making me clutch onto the skirt of my dress, “Of course, we did, princess. Did you think I would offer up my precious bed to you and sleep on the hard wooden floor myself?”

“Well, I—yes.” I said as I threw him a small glare, “That’s what a gentleman is supposed to do.”

Mingi chuckled, giving me a cheeky smile, “But I’m not a gentleman, darling. God forbid I treat you like the princess you are.”

I wasn’t an actual princess, but I didn’t feel like correcting him, “But if we slept in the same bed—oh, no.”

I let out a harsh breath, eyes widening as I glanced behind myself at the bed, heart suddenly thumping wildly. My ears started ringing and I bit my lower lip, eyebrows furrowing as I wracked my brain to remember anything…inappropriate that’s happened between myself and Mingi. But I was coming up blank, and it only unsettled me more as Mingi remained unphased, an amused smirk on his lips when I looked back up at him.

“Oh, no, what, darling?” He closed the gap between our bodies and suddenly reached out, twirling a curly strand of my hair between his fingers, “Do you not remember? Didn’t think you’d forget based on the way you were screaming my name last night.”

“Wha—what?!” I stammered mortified. Mingi had the audacity to pout as I swiftly slapped his hand playing with my hair away, skin burning, and face beat red. For a second, I couldn’t breathe as Mingi remained silent, obviously enjoying my distress as he chuckled loudly, leaning slightly down to be eye level with me. My eyebrows furrowed and I leaned back, hands fisting the skirt of my dress so tightly that my grip was becoming painful.

“Your face is precious right now, darling.” Mingi chuckled, and I felt on the verge of passing out from embarrassment and anger, “But as much as I love the look on your face, I have to admit that it was just a bloody joke, Y/N. I like my partners conscious and sober when we have sex, darling, and you were passed out and far from sobriety. And even I, myself, certainly wasn’t in the right state last night to even think of doing anything to you.”

I needed a moment to truly understand Mingi’s words, soak them in and analyze them, to finally realize that we hadn’t actually done anything. Like he had said, I passed out from drinking too much, and based on his words, he was also too drunk to attempt doing anything. Knowing this settled the frantic beat of my heart, but I still didn’t feel at ease. I was a respectable and an exemplary lady, even just sharing a bed for a night with a man would ruin my reputation and pure image. My father would certainly lose his mind if he were to ever know.

“Good,” I snapped, bunching up my skirt around my ankles, glaring daggers at Mingi, “and you’re not funny, Mingi, your sense of humor is quite lacking if you enjoy watching a lady in distress due to such sensitive topic. And if we’re done here now, then I’m leaving.”

I went to push past Mingi as I huffed loudly, but his hand shot forward all of a sudden, and he gripped my upper arm, “You’re not going anywhere, Y/N.”

“Yes, I am.” I snapped with a tsk, yanking on my arm, but he didn’t want to release it. Mingi just rolled his eyes and tightened his grip, leaning closer in as his own eyes narrowed at me.

“No, you’re not.” He emphasized his words, voice imitating mine, slightly deeper as he was glaring back at me now, looking rather intimidating. A blonde strand fell into his eye and I was rather flabbergasted when I found myself wanting to tuck it behind his ear.

“Oh, really?” I smirked, stepping so close to him that the toes of our shoes pressed against each other painfully, our faces barely inches away as I raised my head, “And who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do, Mingi?”

“Well, for starters, I’m Mingi.” The stupid smile that showed his adorable front teeth was irritating, and my jaw clenched as Mingi’s fingers teasingly glided down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine, yanking on my hand so that I fell against his chest. I gasped, craning my neck to look up at him, heart beating fast as our exposed collarbones lightly brushed against each other, “And I’m a pirate, sweetheart. And I’ve taken you hostage, so until daddy dearest pays up, you’re staying here with me.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I studied his face for any signs of amusement, but Mingi was serious. Too serious all of a sudden, and I found myself panicking once again as I lightly shook my head no, “Right, and you expect me to believe you, because—”

“Because the whole town is looking for you right now as we speak, and unless daddy dearest decided to sleep in—which I highly doubt—then he’s found a letter with my pretty handwriting on the desk in his study room, and is writing back to us just this second, probably desperate enough to pay us the requested money, if that means he gets his little gemstone back.” Did Mingi consider that I was like a gemstone, then? I subtly shook my head, getting rid of such silly thoughts in such serious situation. This couldn’t be real, I must be still asleep, having a nightmare. There’s no possibility that I was kidnapped by a pirate, who’s now asking my father to pay him copious amount of money if he wants me back. It felt like my stomach dropped all of a sudden, and I felt nauseous just like last night as my eyebrows furrowed.

“I—I—” I took a deep breath and gripped Mingi’s fingers tightly, gritting my teeth as I refused to allow this stupid pirate to play around with me, “I refuse to be your hostage.”

My words sent Mingi into a fit of giggles and my glare just deepened as he seemed to gloss over my words, throwing his head back as his giggles turned into loud laughter. Wasn’t I supposed to stay silent because other’s were still sleeping? Did that not apply to Mingi as well? But his momentarily lack of attention served me just right as I remembered he never bothered to close the door of the room, or lock it for that matter, and it was my chance for an escape. It was too easy, too perfect, and I took advantage of that to the fullest. Just as Mingi opened his mouth, seemingly having calmed down, my right leg rose as I aimed for his neither region, kneeling him hard in the balls. Mingi’s lips parted in a loud cry and I chuckled as I was able to push him back, send him tumbling into the desk as he doubled over, face scrunched up in pain as he started moaning in pain. I didn’t waste any more time as I took off towards the door, sprinting out of the room, a little disheartened when I noticed the long hallway littered with doors on both sides. But I noticed light pouring down from one direction and I took off towards it, the skirt of my dress raised above my knees as I felt thankful for being a fast runner, my feet carrying me to the stairs in no time, able to hear the waves crashing against the shore and the salty air as I ran up the stairs, momentarily blinded by the strong sunlight. I have reached my freedom, Mingi had no chance of catching me, and I would return home to my father unscathed, saving him from having to give out God knows how much money to this stupid pirate.

But I wasn’t prepared for the scene unfolding in front of me as I reached the top of the stairs. A man held a big sword in his hands as he seemed to be sparring with a red-haired woman, their swords loud as they clashed against each other. There was a man climbed up high and looking over the water. There were a few men walking around, pulling barrels or just sharpening their knives, but perhaps, what was the most shocking was how far away the shore seemed to be. It sent my heart into a frenzy as I stepped further outside, realizing that water was the only thing that surrounded us, making it harder to breathe as I spun around in one place, taking everything in. The stench in the room, the sea and the fish, the constant rocking and loud waves—we were out on the open sea on a large ship. I gasped as I pressed a hand against my mouth, trying to catch my breath as my heart was pumping wildly, making me dizzy as the loud clanking of swords came to an abrupt stop, becoming eerily silent around me as I looked up. All eyes were on me, and I gulped nervously, unsettled by the weird looks the older men were giving me. Or perhaps I should calling them pirates. I wasn’t so curious to find out anything more about them, I just wanted to go home to my father. There were some rapid thuds behind me, until I became aware of the footsteps headed heavily towards me, catching me off guard when a harsh grip was settled around my bicep. It didn’t feel like Mingi’s grip, however, and I found myself struggling against it instantly, uncaring of the people watching. I had to free myself, I needed to get away sooner than later while I was still up on deck. Perhaps I could swim back to the shore.

“Let me go you filthy—” My eyes widened as I whipped my head around, yanking against the grip, only to be taken off guard at the extremely gorgeous man back staring at me, unbudging despite my attempts to free myself, “oh, you look quite pristine for a pirate.”

An amused chuckle left the black-haired man’s lips, and his hair was in a manbun similar to Mingi’s, however his hair was a lot longer. His eyes were big and his lips plump, his skin tan. His outfit was put together and looked to be in perfect state, a dark corset around his torso as a long coat hung off his shoulders, I’ve never seen a man wear a corset before. He was tall, but not as tall as Mingi.

“That’s a compliment I hadn’t gotten before,” His voice was deeper, yet his chuckle high pitched. He talked smoothly and elegantly, confusing me the longer I took him in, “But I must ask who you are, love.”

“You first, love.” I snapped, eyes narrowing at the stupidly gorgeous man. He chuckled, lips curling into a rather unsettling smile as his round eyes lost their friendliness.

“Park Seonghwa, Quartermaster of Ateez, pleased, love?” His tone was mocking and rather cold, unappreciative of my demanding nature. I gulped and nodded, but refused to speak up. I wasn’t about to give away my identity, it meant not everyone knew who I was. Maybe it was just Mingi who knew, and I intended on keeping it that way.

“And just who brought this yapping brat on my ship?” There was another voice calling out, higher pitched and snappy, and I gasped offended as my eyes snapped up towards the voice. There was a cat-like eyed man leaning over the railing, features sharp and well defined as his aura was demanding and intimidating, glaring daggers at me.

Before I could say anything, there was another unknown voice speaking up, “Probably Mingi, you know he has an affinity for shiny new things—”

A groan cut his words off as I looked his way, surprised to find the red-haired woman glaring at the tall man, he seemed to be around Mingi’s height. The man chuckled sheepishly, looking away from the woman with a shrug, “What? You know it’s true.”

“Yunho.” The woman reprimanded as my eyes remained on them, noticing the quick yet obvious loving look in the man’s eyes as he smiled at the woman, his hand finding hers, fingers intertwining. It made me think of Mingi as he often did that, and I found myself blushing stupidly as I huffed out loud. It caught the attention of the man holding me and I quickly yanked my arm free, stumbling as I had thought he wouldn’t release me so easily. I caught my footing quickly, however, and quickly patted down my dress, pulling my shoulders back and holding my chin high. The man holding me previously and the other one leaning against the railing chuckled almost simultaneously and I scowled, giving them both a glare that would’ve shut up any servant back at the manor, but these two idiots seemed even more amused as they started snickering while they shared a glance.

“Hey!” There was suddenly a commotion downstairs, until loud thuds hit the wooden stairs as my head snapped towards the sound, “Y/N! Come back here! I will—”

Mingi froze as he got on deck, now all eyes on him as his chest was heaving, eyes widening when he looked up towards the railing, “Captain!”

“Good morning, Mingi.” The man smirked, placing his chin in his open palm, “Care to explain yourself?”

“This isn’t like last time, I swear!” Mingi was quick to exclaim, and gone was the cocky and confident man as his eyes widened, and he scrambled to explain himself to the, apparently, Captain of the ship, “She’s like—super rich. She’s a princess, Hongjoong! We’re gonna get so much money this time, that we won’t have to trade for a whole month!”

“Is that so, Mingi?” The Captain looked intrigued as he quirked an eyebrow, looking in my direction. I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the man, “But Wooyoung and Haneul are taking care of that issue currently.”

“Sure, but we’ve still got some weeks until we meet up with them, surely the plus income comes in handy, right, Seonghwa?” Mingi raised his eyebrows as he looked towards the other man with a manbun, who’s lips were pursed as he hummed.

“I’m always up for more money, but it depends what our Captain wants—”

“I’m not a princess.” I suddenly stated loudly, all eyes snapping onto me. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked confused for a second before his eyes narrowed.

“Too late, princess, you’ve already told me last night—”

“And I lied.” I smirked, looking at Mingi challengingly as his eyebrows furrowed even more as he took some steps towards me.

“No, you didn’t—”

“I am related to the Queen, but I am not a princess, although I should be one.” There were a few snickers but I didn’t look to see from whom as I watched Mingi’s expression fall, and face contort into anger. It felt nice to have the upper hand for once, having tricked him into believing I was royalty. I chuckled, grinning as he came to a stop in front of me.

“In that case, throw her overboard.” My eyes widened at the Captain’s nonchalant sentence, attention already elsewhere as he went back to the wheel, looking out onto the sea.

“Hongjoong—” The red-haired woman started, but I cut her off as my heartbeat picked up again.

“I’m rich!” I exclaimed, looking between Mingi and the Captain, “My father can surely pay however much you ask of him. We are…filthy rich!”

Mingi chuckled, looking at me smugly, and it made me want to grab onto his manbun and yank on it.

“Is that so?” The Captain called, but looked rather uninterested as Seonghwa also seemed to turn his attention elsewhere, looking like he started patrolling, talking to the other pirates on deck. Yunho and the red-haired girl also went back to sparing, and I just now noticed that the man high up in the sky was watching everything unfold beneath him.

“I’ll take care of her, don’t worry, Hongjoong.” Mingi mockingly saluted towards the Captain before he gripped me by the nape and turned me around, forcing me to walk towards the stairs. I hissed and tried to get out of his grip, but Mingi just grunted in warning and made me walk down the stairs, leading me back to that God-awful room, probably.

            As the minutes went by, I started to realize that this man was just as stupid as any other one, not one complete or smart thought in his head as he stood glaring in my direction, seemingly having ran out of patience. I scoffed as I glared back at him, just as fed up with him as he was with me. As Mingi opened his mouth to speak, I quickly spoke up with a loud and clear voice.

“For the last time, Song Mingi, you are not chaining me to your goddamn bed!” My voice cracked at the end as I was turning borderline hysterical, body starting to shake. There was no way in hell that this man was chaining me to his dirty bed!

“And for the last time, Yoon Y/N, I am chaining you to my goddamn bed!” Mingi snapped back, his deep voice a few octaves higher as the huff he let out was loud, eyes ablaze. My jaw tensed and I crossed my arms in front of my chest, staring him down challengingly.

“If you touch me, I will break your fingers and then Lieutenant Kim will have your head for it—”

“Is that the man you were dancing with at that ridiculous ball?” Mingi cut me off, jaw tense like mine as his grip tightened around the chains he was holding in both hands. They looked heavy, and I refused to have those rusty things touching my skin.

“Why?” I smirked, uncrossing my arms, “Are you jealous?”

Mingi scoffed, rolling his eyes theatrically, “As if…you wish, darling.”

“As much as I love a little drama,” I smiled sweetly, raising my hand to look at my nails nonchalantly, rather unpleased to see the nail polish already peeling off. Soojin had always been quite incompetent when it came to applying nail polish, “I’d rather not have a stupid and incompetent pirate and a gorgeous but poor Lieutenant fighting over me—”

“How arrogant to think that’d we’d ever want to fight over you.” Mingi cut me off, snappy as he stormed up to me, glaring down at me. My lips curled into a mocking smirk as I grabbed his hands and squeezed them harder over the chain he was holding, making him hiss.

“Surely you didn’t take me hostage just because I’m rich,” I chuckled, trailing my forefinger from his wrist right up to his elbow, watching as Mingi gulped nervously, “If I wasn’t as beautiful as I am, you wouldn’t have even as much as glanced my way, pirate.”

Mingi seemed to fidget for a second, but he cleared his throat and looked at me intently, eyes narrowing, “You seem to think rather highly of yourself, princess, so let me set some things straight. In fact, I did not give two flying fucks about your or any other lady’s looks from that ball when I was looking for my next prey. I’m not here looking for a partner, I’m here looking for money. And whoever has the bigger wealth, is whoever I pick. Maybe this will humble you a little, darling, but you were the easiest prey last night as you had stupidly exposed yourself to everyone by leaving that God-awful ball…and you just made my job so much easier, thank you for that, peasant.”

I gasped at the last word, slapping Mingi’s exposed chest before pushing him backwards, glaring at him furiously as a wide smirk stretched onto his lips, watching me smugly and pleased of himself, while I tried to control my rage. How dare he disrespect me like that?! Who was he to say such things to me, a noble and higher up on the social anarchy?! He was the peasant here, not me.

“And a peasant must be put on chains, unless we want them causing any more problems—”

“A peasant,” I took a deep breath, trying to control the tremor in my voice, “doesn’t have to beg for others to give them money, to blackmail a poor father after kidnaping his daughter, nor does he have to think about how to fend for himself day after day—oh, wait! That is what a peasant does, pirate, sounds like you two have a lot more in common than I, a noble, and a peasant does. So who exactly are you calling a peasant here, idiot?”

Mingi’s jaw locked as he bit his lower lip, nodding his head wordlessly, staring down at the wooden floor, chains rattling in his grip as he shook his hands. I continued to hold my head high as Mingi slowly looked up, eyes ablaze and face turned into a scowl as a venomous expression spread over his face, “Excuse me, your highness, that not all of us are raised in puff and lavish. That not all of us have thirty servants fending for our mansions and castles, maids who wipe our asses because we don’t know how to do that ourselves, or chests filled with gold to the brim, awaiting to be spent on useless items, such as the newest dress the Queen thinks is fashionable. And now—shut up, Y/N, I’ve had enough of hearing your stupid voice and ignorant words! I’ll chain you up, and you will shut up, unless you want me to gag you as well.”

And then he suddenly marched up to me, the backs of my knees already pressing into the bed, leaving no space for me to run away. My eyebrows furrowed and I whined as he took hold of my left wrist forcefully, trying to push me down on the bed, but I held myself strong, glaring daggers in his face as we made eye contact. Mingi was visibly furious, a constant sneer on his face as he hissed, a silent warning in his eyes for me to stop. But I wouldn’t stop, did he think he could scare me with empty words? If he treated me like this, I would be his worst nightmare. And just as he went to grip my other hand to push me down on the bed, I moved faster, right hand going above his head and fingers tangling tightly in his manbun. Mingi’s eyes found mine, and for a second, he looked confused, but then he gasped as I yanked on his hair hard, tilting his head back as I made sure all of my fingers were tightly tangled into his blonde locks, nails pushing against his scalp.

“What the hell, Y/N!” He screamed, voice high pitched as the chains suddenly hitting the floor made a loud noise, making me cringe and whine in pain as they hit my bare toes. That would certainly bruise, and so, with a glare, I looked back at Mingi, who was grabbing my wrist with both hands now, trying to pull my hand away, only failing and making me yank more on his locks, “Hey, stop it!”

I scoffed and pulled his head lower, making Mingi’s back bend backwards as I stepped around him, pulling him forcefully after myself. Mingi was fighting back, but having to crouch down and walk at the same time didn’t allow him much choice, he couldn’t push me off himself. I didn’t know where I was headed, but walking him around the room like this perhaps taught him a lesson, so, I started walking us aimlessly, pulling harder and harder on his hair, Mingi’s whines turning into loud groans and hisses.

“Oh, you’re asking for it, Y/N, when I get my hands on you—”

“What, will you chain me to the bed?” I asked sweetly, abruptly stopping, Mingi crashing into my side. I leaned close to his face, grinning wickedly as I yanked on his hair again, which was surprisingly soft, making him grit his teeth at me, “Will you gag me and taunt me more? Poor little Mingi, his fragile ego hurt by a woman merely stating the truth—”

“You are a bitch.” I gasped and yanked him forward, sinking my other hand into his hair too, our bodies pressed against each other as Mingi struggled to keep up.

“Maybe I am a bitch, but when I get back to my papa, I will continue on living my life like nothing happened, while you’ll have a target on your head that will make you and your crew perish,” I grinned evilly, Mingi’s face twisting with another wave of anger, “I wouldn’t say you got much out of this whole ordeal, Mingi.”

To my surprise, he stopped struggling against me, his grip loose against my wrists, making my eyebrows furrow. I thought I had finally knocked some sense into him, but suddenly his hands moved, and I felt his large palm against the back of my head, long fingers tangled into my hair, silver rings digging into my scalp. My eyes widened when I realized what he was about to do, and a loud gasp left my lips as Mingi finally yanked on my hair, tilting my head back. I yelped loudly, tears springing into my eyes as he used more force than I did on him, the fragile strands pulling my scalp harshly, making it burn.

“How does it feel to get your own treatment, princess?” Mingi’s tone was mocking, but he still hissed when my fingers flexed, “I bet your maids hate your fucking guts, Y/N. You’re horrible—”

“Say something new if you want to actually insult me—” I yelped again as Mingi yanked harder, the corset still tight around my body, not allowing me to bend my back anymore backwards, “Stop it!”

“If you let me go first—”

“Never.” I hissed, making Mingi groan.

“You’re so fucking stubborn—I won’t chain you to the bed, for fuck’s sake, just let me go!” Mingi screamed, voice raw and annoyed, aggressively puffing his chest out into mine.

“You first!” I screamed back, adamant on not letting go first. It would give him the upper hand, I wasn’t stupid! Mingi groaned loudly and suddenly the burn was gone from my scalp, his fingers untangled from my locks, hand gone from my head. As he opened his mouth, I did the same and Mingi hissed, standing up to his full height, glaring daggers at me. My heart seemed to jump into my throat as we stood pressed chest to chest, our breathing rather ragged, jaw gritted and glare sharp, the tall man looming over me.

“You vex me.” Mingi hissed, fisting his palms at his side.

“And you irk me.” I hissed back, looking him in the eyes with a defying look. He just shook his head and stepped back, leaving me rather confused as he walked to his closet, not before kicking the chains to the side, and opened the door. It almost came off and he had to steady it with both hands to stop it from falling down, but suddenly he dug inside and when he pulled his hand back, he turned his head to throw me a glance. And then, clothes were thrown in my face and my eyebrows furrowed as I scrambled to catch the items before they fell, giving Mingi a confused look.

“Change out of your clothes, you stink.” I rolled my eyes before looking down at the foreign clothing items. Were those pants? I’ve never worn such thing before, they were for men…but then again, that red-headed woman up on the deck wore pants as well. Was this the latest trend? Couldn’t be, I never heard the Queen saying anything about it.

“I don’t stink,” I gave Mingi a look as I placed the clothes on the desk, placing my hands on my hips, “However, you do.”

Mingi scoffed, mirroring my stance, “Oh, really? My apologies, princess, but we’ve run out of milk and roses a week ago. I will make sure to pick these items up the next time we dock down, cannot go around smelling like dead fish and sweat, now, can I?”

“At least you’re aware.” I muttered with a smirk, making Mingi close his eyes for a second as he inhaled and exhaled, suddenly looking tired as he opened his eyes.

“I don’t stink.” He snapped and I chuckled, grabbing the white shirt to inspect it. I brought it up to my nose, and was rather taken aback to find it smelling like vanilla. My eyes found Mingi’s and his eyebrows were raised as he stared at me, but I refused to voice my thoughts. How could a pirate smell like vanilla?

“Well,” I snapped, placing the shirt down again, “Will you turn around? I have to change.”

Mingi made to pretend he was thinking, pressing his forefinger into his plump lower lip, his eyebrows furrowing cutely, “Hmm, let me think—no!”

The smirk on his lips made my skin crawl as he shamelessly racked his eyes over my body, making me feel suddenly naked under his darkening gaze despite being fully clothed. I gulped, aware of my cheeks suddenly flushing, but not out of embarrassment. I was flustered and…before I could dwell more on it, I grabbed a book from the table and flung it at Mingi, making him grunt as the book’s spine crashed into his exposed chest.

“Heavens, you’re so infuriating.” He muttered as he rolled his eyes, finally turning his back to me. I smiled in triumph and then quickly went to undo the buttons of the dress at the front, careful with my actions as the dress was valuable and had sentimental value to me. The fabric was soft and fragile and once the last button was undone, I carefully slid the sleeves off my hands, skin covered in goosebumps as the temperature was rather low in Mingi’s atrocious room. I was careful as I finally stepped out of the green dress, folding it in two and placing it onto the back of the chair. I tensed when I heard movement coming from Mingi’s direction, but when I looked, he was still facing me with his back and he seemed to have opened the book as he hummed, probably flipping through the pages. It’s rather peculiar that a pirate is interested in literature. The books on his desk were almost identical to the one’s in my father’s library from the forbidden section, my favorite ones. I quickly unclasped the item that Soojin and Soyeon called the ‘upside-down basket’, the one that made the skirts of my dresses big, princess like. I raised it overhead and placed it onto the ground next to me before pushing my stockings down my legs, glad that my skin would finally stop being itchy. My undergarment was covered by a silk gown that reached mid-thigh and the last thing I had to get rid off before I could wear Mingi’s clothes was the corset. I reached around myself, feeling up my back to find the strings, and then pulled. But nothing happened. I sighed quietly, pulling again and hoping I could untangle it, but nothing happened. The corset was still as tight as ever, my hands couldn’t reach far back, I couldn’t do this on my own. My eyes ventured towards Mingi, but I quickly shook my head at the ridiculous idea. I’d rather die than have Mingi help me…but then again, if I had to wear this corset for much longer, I might just die. My torso felt numb, and it ached as the corset dug into my skin uncomfortably, my breasts also aching from being pushed up for such long time. I sighed again and looked in Mingi’s direction, biting my lower lip. He surely wouldn’t do anything inappropriate if I were to ask him to help, right?

I cleared my throat and shuffled uncomfortably, “Mingi…”

There was no response at all, it seemed like he hadn’t heard me, “Mingi.”

“What?” His tone was snappy, and I licked my lips, looking at the floor.

“I, uh—can you undo my corset?” I asked quietly and glanced up, watching Mingi’s body tense as silence followed for a brief moment.

“Can I what?” He asked bewildered.

“Unlace my corset, Mingi.” I snapped, impatient, “I can’t do it myself; my hands don’t reach that far behind.”

“Oh.” Mingi muttered and he took a deep breath before wordlessly nodding his head. I wasn’t exactly prepared as he turned around, cheeks slightly red as he seemed to be looking at my face only, biting his lower lip nervously as he slowly approached me. I averted my eyes and cleared my throat awkwardly, swirling around as I grabbed my own arms, rubbing at my cold skin, trying to offer myself comfort as I heard Mingi come to a stop behind me. There was a soft thud and I glanced back to see the book placed on the table.

“Alright, I’ll unlace your corset.” His raspy voice was low as it was quiet, and my body tensed when I felt his fingers brush against the exposed skin of my back. I had to remind myself to breathe as I was too hyper focused on every move of Mingi’s, the softness his fingers worked with as he started undoing the knots, gently pulling the strings apart. I licked my lips as his finger brushed against my heated skin, untangling the top two knots, already bringing even the littlest relief to my body as I exhaled harshly.

“Did I hurt you?” Mingi asked quietly, stopping. I quickly shook my head as my fingers dug into the skin of my arms, trying to find a steady breath as my heart was beating faster and faster. My face felt hot and I knew it was probably red.

“No, I’m fine.” I whispered, and Mingi grunted once before I felt his fingers move again, slightly yanking my body backwards as he probably couldn’t untangle a knot that easily. Soyeon and Soojin always tied my corsets tightly and expertly, otherwise I would’ve fired them long ago. I cleared my throat as Mingi started humming quietly, suddenly aware that his body was close to mine as his warmth engulfed mine, luring me in with his vanilla scent, mixed with the sea and gunpowder, which was more prominent now than it was last night. My cheeks flushed even more when I remembered the way my nose had pressed against his exposed collarbone, breathing in deep his scent, finding comfort in it and the way Mingi’s larger body seemed to hold me so securely, making me feel the safest I ever have. I gulped, rather loudly, and felt even more knots come loose as suddenly the pressure was taken off my ribs, allowing me to breathe freely, my lungs finally able to fill with air to the fullest. I gasped quietly, palms balling up into fists as Mingi’s fingers brushed against my clothed back, and it arched subconsciously as my skin erupted in goosebumps. I heard a loud gulp from behind and tried to ignore the way I could hear Mingi breathing, making me shudder involuntarily. He suddenly sniffed loudly as he undid more knots, lower ribs freed too, and I closed my eyes as I exhaled quietly in relief, body no longer straining and aching from the restriction the garment offered. I smiled in content, body relaxing and unaware that I leaned back against Mingi, arms hanging limply next to my body as I relished in the feeling that taking off the corset meant after so many hours of wearing it. However, I flinched when I felt Mingi’s large hands wrap around my waist, firmly gripping me. I froze, unblinking and unbreathing as I waited for his next move, which to my surprise, was to yank the corset apart, strings coming undone, slipping from their bindings. My eyes widened a little and I quickly stood up straight again, confused as to why I was disappointed that Mingi no longer held onto me. I felt Mingi slipping the corset upwards and I raised my arms, accustomed to this due to my maid always helping me, and allowed Mingi to take the corset off. I whirled around, about to thank him and act like nothing had happened, but the look on Mingi’s face was startling for a second. His own cheeks seemed to be flushed and he was biting his lower lip, eyebrows slightly furrowed and eyes darker than their usual color, pupils blown wide. I gulped as I looked at him, pondering my next move as I reached for the corset, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as Mingi released the fabric. He didn’t say anything and I felt myself mesmerized, unable to move quite yet as Mingi reached forward, fingers lightly tangling at my sides into the silk fabric of the short gown. The thin strap had slipped off my left shoulder, and as Mingi’s eyes racked over all the skin exposed to him, I finally realized I was standing almost as good as naked in front of him. My eyes widened and I took a big step back, averting my eyes as Mingi coughed, rubbing his nose before his fingers tangled into his hair, undoing his manbun. His hair was messy, but he looked off to the side as he quickly retied the messy bun, caused by me, and cleared his throat.

“Uh, finish up quickly.” He sounded almost breathless as he swiftly turned, offering me privacy once again. I hummed and nodded even if he didn’t see me, settling into motion quickly. I threw the corset onto the bed and grabbed his white shirt, pulling it over my shoulders and almost chuckled at how big it was on me. But I quickly started buttoning it up, making sure that my chest was covered well as I stopped at the last button underneath my chin. The shirt was as long as my gown, they both reached mid-thigh. I grabbed the pants and gave them a distasteful look before slipping my legs into each pant leg, the feeling foreign as my exposed legs were instantly wrapped up in warmth, the feeling not as repulsive as I had imagined it to be. I tucked in the shirt and glared at the end of the pants, pooling around my feet. Despite not being short myself, Mingi was too tall for me to comfortably wear his clothes, but I did appreciate it…even if he probably thought I didn’t. I watched the front of the pants in confusion, wondering if the lace was to lace them up like a corset.

“Uh, how do I lace this up?” I asked in confusion, making Mingi turn around, looking just as confused. His face flashed with amusement as he caught onto what I meant, and he walked close again, a small amused smile on his lips.

“Yeah, like this.” My skin tingled when our fingers brushed against each other and my cheeks instantly flushed, I was glad Mingi was focused on the lace and not my face. He pulled tightly, and I gasped as I was yanked towards him, having to steady myself on his broad shoulders, making Mingi chuckle as he cast me a quick glance. Lacing up these pants was a lot easier and quicker as I watched Mingi demonstrate it, something I would be able to do on my own too from now on. When he was done he patted my waist twice, and I tried to keep my eyes off his face as my heart lurched at the action again, stepping back and crouching down to fix the problem at my feet as I rolled the pants up. Mingi watched me with amusement written all over his face.

“You’re a dwarf.” I heard him say with a short laugh, making me roll my eyes.

“No, you’re a giant.” I said as I stood up straight, hands on my hips, “So, do I look okay? I assume you don’t have a mirror here, so you’ll have to tell me yourself.”

Mingi’s eyes ran up and down my body, taking me in, and I found myself blushing again, but his words were quick to chase away the fluster I felt, “Nah, you’re hideous. Don’t worry, at least the sirens won’t want you.”

“Sirens?” I asked with a pout, eyebrows furrowing, “I thought only mermaids existed.”

“Oh, Jongho will be elated to talk to someone about all of that, come.” And before I could even put up a fight that I didn’t want this Jongho guy talking to me, Mingi was pulling me after himself, fingers intertwining with mine once again.

            Three days have passed since I was taken hostage, and my papa still hadn��t paid up. Did he not love me anymore because I misbehaved and left the ball without his permission? Did he not love his little daughter enough to bring her back to the safety of his mansion? Was Mingi asking for too much? No, that couldn’t have been the case, we are rich. My father could pay however much Mingi asked in exchange for me, so that couldn’t have been it. But if that was true, why was I still here? It made me huff desperately as I twirled the golden coin between my fingers, looking at it intently. These past three days had been quite horrible. There was nothing I could do on this ship, everyone was rude, dirty, and quite smelly. They did the same things every single day, and refused to let me join them, throwing insults such like, ‘I was a spoiled brat who never shut up’ or that ‘I was rude and had no manners’. Those words were bold as they were coming from some nasty old pirates. The only acceptable man on this wrenched ship seemed to be that Jongho guy, who happened to be fascinated with folklore, and seemed rather eager to tell me everything he knew about it. I wasn’t quite interested per se of what he had to say most of times, but it took my mind off the pressing issues at hand. That being that I was bored out of my mind, and that I hadn’t had a normal milk bath in four days, and that the salty air had cracked my skin, drying it out. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the sad of an excuse of a bathroom they had on this ship, I jumped, and once even almost cried, barely believing that my beautiful skin was now burnt around my nose due to the harsh sun I got exposed to daily when I was up on deck. I wasn’t doing well; my thoughts were turning grim as well. I just wanted to be back at my mansion, surrounded by the cool air, the spacious rooms, my books, the nice perfumes wafting through the rooms, the beautiful garden, and my father. I couldn’t live like this anymore. I was supposed to be pampered, not mocked, insulted, and ignored.

And Mingi was making the whole experience even worse, annoying me at any given chance, playing with me, and taunting me. Yesterday, he refused to let me have lunch, stating that ‘I had misbehaved that morning, and now I was being punished for it’. If it weren’t for Taeri, the red-haired girl, then Mingi would’ve locked me in his room, leaving me banging on the door and screaming after him. Despite not liking most of the pirates on this pathetic excuse of a ship, Taeri seemed to be quite enjoyable. She was soft spoken and very nurturing, and she checked in on me every morning, making sure that Mingi didn’t make me uncomfortable. I found that rather generous of her, and quickly begged her to let me be her roommate for as long as I had to stay on this ship, but she nicely let me down, telling me that she was, unfortunately, already sharing a room with Yunho. I found that rather peculiar, but after close observation of the two, I came to the realization that they were in love. I have never felt that emotion, but based on all the books I have read, their romance looked exactly the same like in those beautiful stories. Their eyes were filled with warmth, and Yunho would never stop smiling when Taeri was next to him, and I didn’t fail to notice how protective he was of her as well. Perhaps I was jealous that Taeri managed to find her lover, meanwhile me, a very desirable woman was still waiting for her prince. It was rather sad, but I decided not to dwell more on it while I was on this pirate ship, I would find my prince surely once I get back to my old life.

Currently, Mingi and I were crammed up in his small and ugly room, a floorboard near his bed cracked in, which I have discovered two days ago with disdain as my foot went through the hole, ankle almost getting stuck as I screeched for Mingi to get it out, fearful of all the insects and rats that would touch my skin. But Mingi, like the asshat he was, just stood laughing and making fun of me, walking closer, and mocking me until I broke down in tears, making his eyes widen as he finally crouched down and gingerly pulled my leg out of the hole, muttering something about me being overly dramatic before he left the room, offering me time to change into day wear clothes. I was lucky with Taeri being here, her clothes were almost a perfect fit as she was nice enough to borrow me one of her leather pants and two shirts. However, Mingi refused to let me wear Taeri’s shirts, and hid them on top of his closet, where I couldn’t reach them. He was a menace and he loved tormenting me, so deciding to turn this against him, ignoring every particle in my body screaming at me to act like the lady I was, I went ahead and unbuttoned the top buttons of Mingi’s shirt each morning, leaving my cleavage exposed, the silky gown the only clothing item that covered my breasts. The first time Mingi saw me, he turned red like a tomato, and spluttered on about me being inappropriate as he marched up to me and quickly buttoned the shirt up, giving me a warning look to keep it that way while we were up on deck. But, of course, I didn’t listen to him, and to my utmost disgust, I had a slimy pirate grabbing after me, spluttering disgusting things in my face about my body and what he was going to do to me, until I raised my fist up high and connected it against his wrinkly nose, hearing a loud crack. Mingi was by our side in a moment, reprimanding me for my actions, up until I told him why I had done what I had done, shocked to find Mingi throwing another punch at the old pirate, blood flowing down his face after the second blow to his nose. The Captain had rudely called for us to stop and scramble off, calling for a man named Yeosang, apparently the crew’s doctor. And if I thought today I would have a normal day while Mingi dragged me up on deck in the morning after the both of us got changed, I was extremely wrong. I had pulled my hair in a low bun and was watching Yunho and Taeri spare, eyes following their moves curiously, wondering what it felt like holding a sword. Mingi had abandoned me, apparently having to help Yeosang in carrying some heavy barrels from some chamber under deck, up on deck, both of them sweaty by the time they got up. I was sitting on a barrel, playing with a golden coin I had borrowed from Jongho last night at dinner while he was too busy showing me the drawings of this one supposed Siren that he had met. It was rather hard to believe, I had thought the man was simply crazy, but Seonghwa was there to confirm, that they indeed have captured a Siren not too long ago, but due to some issues with another pirate crew, the Siren escaped.

I had sighed loudly, the wind carrying it away, as my eyes fixated longingly on the shore, which seemed to be even more far away than it was when I had arrived on this ship. Jongho had said that the Navy’s fleet had been scouting the waters, having a hunch that perhaps I had been kidnaped by the pirates, so we had to sail out a little bit further, where they wouldn’t find us. The thought was disheartening, knowing that Lieutenant Kim wouldn’t be able to save me. I had quite quickly grown bored of watching Yunho and Taeri spare, so I jumped off the barrel, and walked towards an opened chest, finding it filled with different sized weapons, some big shotguns in it as well. I leaned over and brushed my fingers against the sharp blade, gripping the handle of the dagger curiously, dropping it in exchange to hold onto the end of a shotgun. I had seen weapons before, my father would hunt every now and then, but I was never allowed to hold one. As my curiosity got the better of me, and nobody was actually paying attention to me, I took the shotgun in my hands and straightened up, surprised by its actual weight. I pursed my lips as I raised it up, narrowing my eyes as I continued to inspect the shotgun, noticing that it was covered in gunpowder. I suddenly realized that Mingi smelled the same, and it made me wonder why that was. Could he be the one who wielded these shotguns? But before I could dwell more on that thought, firm arms suddenly wrapped around my middle, pulling me into a sturdy body, and I gasped loudly as I almost dropped the shotgun.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Mingi’s deep voice whispered into my ear, his lips brushing against the skin just barely, “Might have to up the sum for daddy dearest.”

My heart was beating like crazy, hands slightly shaking from the fright he had given me, but also from the sudden proximity, and body pressing into mine. Mingi didn’t seem to be too bothered by the lack of space between us, and I cleared my throat, hands tightening around the shotgun.

“Maybe I should try and see how this weapon works,” I smirked, turning my head to look up at Mingi, “I choose you to be my target.”

Mingi chuckled, lips pulling into a dashing smile, and for a second I forgot how to breathe. His once long blonde hair was now extremely short and spikey, sticking up in all directions. Two days ago, it came quite as a shock seeing him before dinner as he had walked inside our shared room, muttering about how he didn’t want to risk getting his hair pulled like I had done, therefore, he got rid of his long locks. At first I had thought he was crazy for cutting his beautiful, soft, long hair, but one day later, I realized maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. His already sharp features were even more highlighted now, eyes appearing sharper, his cheekbones high and well-defined, certainly attention grabbing, and his jawline chiseled. It also made his tall nose stand out more, the little mole underneath his eye and close to his jawline only adding to his charm.

“Hmm, I thought you were my target, princess.” Mingi muttered, eyebrows raising as he snapped me out of my thoughts, suddenly aware of how badly my face was burning. And it wasn’t from the sun.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, “I’m hardly a target, love, I could fight you anytime. I thought you had seen how I punched that old fool.”

“Yeah,” Mingi smirked, raising an eyebrow as his arms tightened around my middle, making my breath hitch, “But that’s an old man, not a young one full with strength and life. Just because I let you have your way around, doesn’t mean I’m weaker than you—or that you can overpower me, darling. It’s quite the opposite, actually.”

As I opened my mouth to retort back, I was suddenly very forcefully pushed forward as Mingi veered me slightly to the side so the chest wouldn’t be in the way, and suddenly, I was caged in between the railing and Mingi’s body. My hips dug into the sturdy wood harshly, making me groan as one of Mingi’s hands slowly slipped up my torso, grabbing my jaw harshly. I hissed and tried to yank my head free, but I couldn’t as Mingi wasn’t budging. My heart beat frantically as my grip on the shotgun tightened, trying to focus on what was happening. On what Minig’s real intention was by doing this, trying to find a way out.

“Cat got your tongue now, Y/N?” Mingi whispered, voice low and close to my ear, rather sinister. I gulped, but remained silent, refusing to back down, “I could overthrow you without even lifting a finger, precious, and you wouldn’t even be able to scream for help.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I opened my mouth to do just that, knowing that Taeri was still on deck, but suddenly the hand holding my jaw tightly slipped to my neck and Mingi’s fingers covered by rings suddenly curled around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my body tense as my air was cut off. I started to panic as Mingi just chuckled and watched me struggle against him, his eyes glued to the side of my face. I gripped his left arm with my hand and dug my nails into his skin, hopeful that it would make him release me, but he just chuckled and applied more pressure to my throat, making my eyes widen as I realized I was slowly starting to choke. Caged in, unable to push him off or even move away, I realized I had to find another way to break free. But my brain was losing air and my body had started shaking, I didn’t know what to do. I could only hope someone would notice and finally stop him, but it seemed like nobody cared. Not even Taeri, so, I had to save myself again. And so, as a last-minute desperate thought, I raised my left leg high and brought it down hard on Mingi’s foot, hopefully cracking his toes. He let out a loud howl, instantly releasing me and stepping back, making me double over as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, heartbeat fast and skin burning. I threw the shotgun on the floor and gripped the railing hard, feeling tears spring to my eyes. The audacity this stupid pirate had, made me beyond furious.

“You might be stronger,” I hissed as I turned to glare at Mingi, “But I’m smarter, you asshat!”

And with that, I had stormed off, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tried to calm my breathing and reassure myself that nothing actually has happened to me, that Mingi was being an idiot and was only trying to piss me off, which he had succeeded in doing. So, hours later, he was paying for it. I hadn’t spoken to him since that incident this morning, and after he finished whatever stupid duties he had on this stupid ship, he had come down to his room. He had paused in the doorway when he saw me sitting at his desk, feet up as I sat low in his chair, playing with the borrowed coin from Jongho. Mingi said nothing, but his eyes slightly narrowed as he walked further inside, coming closer. Despite my heartbeat picking up again, I ignored him, slightly surprised that he left me alone for once. He grabbed a book and very loudly jumped towards his bed, groaning as his large body got tangled in the sheets smelling like vanilla. I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes, and found him leaned against the wall, feet dangling off his bed as he had opened the book, lips sucked in as his eyebrows furrowed. He wore a black tank top today, his muscular biceps on display, a shiny golden forearm bracelet hugging his left bicep tightly. It was a sight that threw me off guard, only to realize that I quite liked the visual it offered. Mingi’s narrow waist was once again highlighted by the thick leather belt tied around it, the black tank top tucked inside his matching leather pants. He had a pearl necklace at the base of his neck, hugging the skin tightly, and another longer one that reached between his pecks with a moonstone as a pendant.

I smirked, an ingenious thought forming in my mind, serving as revenge for what he had done to me this morning. I pushed the chair a little bit further back, making it screech deliciously against the wooden floorboard, quickly averting my eyes when Mingi glanced my way over his book. I crossed my legs over one another as I relocated them towards the edge of the desk, sighing loudly as I slipped down lower in the chair. I flipped the golden coin between my fingers, tapping my nails against it occasionally. I checked to see Mingi’s reaction, but he seemed unbothered so far, so I smirked, and let out another sigh, louder this time. I licked my lips and groaned as I threw my head back, pouting in the process, staring out the small round window. I felt eyes on me for a second, but I ignored Mingi as I continued with another loud sigh. Then, I paused, making sure he was reading again before I started tapping the desk with the heel of my right leg, hitting the edge of it just the way I had wanted. I chose a steady rhythm for it, sighing every so often, putting the next step of my plan into action.

“What is my papa up to right now…” I muttered with a pout, “I wonder why he hadn’t paid up yet…”

I sighed loudly again, hitting the desk rather harshly, the sound louder. There was the flip of the page, Mingi didn’t react—yet, “Is there possibly something wrong?”

I hit my heel against the desk again, “Did something happen to my papa as well? I wouldn’t be surprised if these ugly and stupid pirates somehow got to him too…”

I heard Mingi shuffling on the bed before he cleared his throat, but I just continued acting oblivious as I was pouting, still staring out the window, “Or what if he never got the letter…oh, no…I’m stuck here forever!”

I started sniffing, making quiet crying sounds as Mingi cleared his throat again, eyes set on me with a glare. But it didn’t faze me as I quickly shook my head, taking a deep breath, my heel coming down against the desk rather harshly, “What if…what if he doesn’t love me enough to save me?!”

I sniffed loudly, tapping my leg against the desk louder and more frequently, stare boring into the coin in my hand as Mingi huffed loudly, but didn’t speak up just yet. Fine, then I would try this in a different way, “God, I’ll never see Lieutenant Kim ever again! How I wish I never turned him down! Then I wouldn’t be in this God-awful place, rotting away, my beauty hidden from the world…”

There was a scoff but as my eyes snapped to Mingi, he was looking at his book, his mouth pulled into a sneer. I smirked, tapping the desk lighter now, eyes boring into Mingi’s handsome face, “Oh, the luxuries he had promised me. I should have said yes, he is the perfect match for me. He cares for me so deeply! He would’ve done anything for me—I wouldn’t even be here now with this—irritating, smelly, ugly, and dumb pirate, who’s room is falling apart and smells like rotten fish.”

Mingi’s jaw locked as he licked his lips, eyes narrowing as they quickly snapped up, making me avert mine as I sighed dreamily, eyebrows in a frown. The boat was rocking rather softly today, the waves not as harsh as yesterday, “Oh, and this terrible ship is so awful! Every day I get more and more homesick. I wish that my papa would just—ow!”

I yelped loudly as something hard hit my head, making me bolt up from the chair, eyes wide as I whipped my head around to look at Mingi. He was glaring at me as he had his arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging.

“Just shut up, Y/N, heavens, I can’t listen to your annoying voice for any longer!” He hissed; voice irritated as he glared daggers at me. My disdain turned into amusement as I leaned my hip against his desk, smirking at him.

“Oh, poor little Mingi, bothered by a fragile woman who can’t even defend herself.” I mocked him, pushing my lower lip out in a fake pout, “God forbid he can’t read his stupid fairytale book, or else he’ll turn into a whiney toddler—”

“I’m one fucking second away of gagging you, Y/N.” Mingi hissed, pushing himself off the wall. I rolled my eyes with a snort.

“Your threats had been all empty so far, love.” I smirked, flipping through his book lazily, “You’ll have to do more if you want to scare me into silence.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mingi’s voice dropped and my eyes snapped to him when I heard the bed creaking, slightly widening at the annoyance clear on his face. As he went to stand up, I panicked and did the first thing that came to mind, threw his book at his face. Mingi barely dodged it, eyes widening as he looked offended.

“Hey! Stop throwing my books at me!” He exclaimed, glaring at me as I stormed up to him, towering over his sitting form.

“You started it now!” I hissed and reached around him, grabbing the book off the bed to hit him over the head. Mingi gasped and tried to shield his head at my continuous attacks, making me smirk when he couldn’t swat at my hand to make me stop. It was rather amusing, watching the tall ‘scary’ pirate trying to get away from a smaller woman, but unable to do so. I started laughing as Mingi whined loudly, leaning backwards and moving his torso in funny ways to escape me.

“Stop it!” But I didn’t care to listen to him as I continued laughing, finding the situation amusing, until I felt something soft hitting my side forcefully. I gasped, eyes going wide as I froze, staring down at Mingi. I had placed one knee up on the bed to be able to reach his retreating form, and now it was Mingi smirking at me as he held his pillow in his hands, raising it overhead to hit me with it. The impact left me huffing loudly as I dropped the book on the floor and dived for the only other pillow before Mingi could get his hands on it too and leave me defenseless, twisting my body so that I could hit him with it. It made contact with his face and Mingi groaned as I started giggling, hitting him some more as I got on the bed on both of my knees, amused that Mingi couldn’t hit back as he had to recoil from my constant pillow attacks. But then, he was suddenly straightening up and throwing a menacing glare at me, which made me laugh harder, as he started hitting my side again. My stomach started hurting from laughing too much, but I couldn’t stop as Mingi continued to whine and ask me to stop while I continued hitting his back with the pillow. He wasn’t even getting hurt, so I didn’t understand why he was so whiney about it. It was fun.

He released the pillow with one hand and tried to grab at my waist, but I kept hitting his arm with my pillow, making him huff and puff in irritation. Then suddenly, he threw his pillow to the ground, and as I smirked in victory and raised my arms to hit him over the head with my own, he lunged forward, making me yelp as his body crashed into mine. I dropped the pillow and wrapped my arms around his neck as I felt us falling backwards on his bed, my back hitting the soft sheets soon enough. My chest was raising and falling rapidly, and so was Mingi’s, as his breath hit the side of my neck, sending me into another set of giggles as I stared up at the ceiling amused. Mingi’s hands gripped my waist firmly, his weight crushing me as his lean body melted into mine. My legs fell open on both sides of his hips, and as my giggles finally stopped, I could hear Mingi snickering as well, his warmth engulfing mine, and making my cheeks burn once I realized the position we were in. I had never had a man all over myself, certainly not while lying in bed, with him nestled between my legs and almost laughing into my ear. The scent of vanilla mixed with gunpowder was strong, and I sniffed quietly, unconsciously taking a deeper whiff of Mingi’s familiar scent. I gulped loudly, arms tightening around Mingi’s neck for a second before I slowly withdrew my arms, hands dragging against the skin of his neck. I felt the silver clasp of his pearl choker before my hands continued on tracing his shoulders, until the fell on both sides of my head. Mingi slowly pushed himself up, resting on his elbows as his eyes ran over my face. I gulped again, my stomach flipping weirdly as Mingi shuffled a little, his lower half pressing into mine, making me gasp quietly as Mingi’s eyes bore into mine. I licked my lips, watching as Mingi’s eyes dropped onto them, his own mouth slightly opening as his breathing got heavier. My eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lower lip, head very slowly lowering as he glanced back up in my eyes, my heart beating so fast I could feel it in my neck. But as his hot breath hit my face, I realized that whatever we were doing was unethical and would ruin my purity surely, so I acted on impulse. My left hand raised and I opened my fist, dangling Mingi’s pearl choker between our faces. He suddenly froze, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the choker bewildered before looking back down at me, a questioning look on his face.

“What?” He muttered quietly, touching his neck with his left hand lightly, as if to make sure that I did indeed take his pearl necklace without him noticing. I chuckled as I smiled at him cheekily, just shrugging as I played with the necklace, admiring it for a second. But my amusement was quickly gone as Mingi gave me a long stare, a smirk slowly blooming on his face as he raised his left hand, a golden hairpin clear as day in his hand. My mouth dropped open as I stared at it, raising my hand to touch my, now nonexistent, bun. When did he pull it out of my hair? And how? Nobody could get it out of my hair without pulling on the strands painfully, not even Soojin or Soyeon.

“How?” I whispered impressed, making Mingi shrug as he smirked proudly.

“I have my ways.” He winked, and then suddenly pushed himself off me, dropping the hairpin on my stomach. He cleared his throat as he got to his feet, ruffling his spikey blonde hair before patting his clothes down, extending his hand out towards me. I placed the necklace in his hand and watched as he quickly clasped it back around his neck.

“I’ll go help Yunho now, don’t wander around, San isn’t in a good mood today.” Mingi instructed as I sat up, twirling the hairpin in my hands.

“Who’s San?” I asked confused, and Mingi paused in the doorway.

“He’s…not someone you want to meet, so, please, stay here.” His tone was the most serious I had heard him use, and I nodded in understanding, “I’ll send Taeri to entertain you.”

“Thank you.” I flashed him a small smile, and he was out the door, leaving me with a frantic beating heart, and a hotness all over my body that I had never felt before. What was Song Mingi doing to me?

            It would seem like today wasn’t out day. Arguments would ensue too often throughout the day, and I could only blame Mingi for it as he always found something to bother me with. If the pathetic scare he tried giving me this morning wasn’t enough, he had went off on a rant right before dinner that I was taking up all of his space, and barely offered him any privacy. He also accused me of stealing a few of his precious jewelry, which I had not done as I had zero wishes to steal anything that belonged to this dumb pirate. And despite seeing said jewelry around Yunho’s wrist and neck during dinner, Mingi made no effort to apologize to me for the accusations he’s made earlier. And if that wasn’t enough to put me in a bad mood, certainly him telling this other girl on the ship, Jung Hana, that I was a nuisance and stuck-up brat, so she shouldn’t even bother talking to me, set me off as I had slammed the silver folk down on the table, whipping my head around as I flashed Mingi a deep glare.

“Would you stop trying to veer everyone away from me?!” I had snapped, voice high pitched, “Maybe I’m not the problem here, Mingi, but you.”

Mingi had snorted, spoon in his mouth as he had taken a bite of his dinner, “Sure, there’s no possible way that a spoiled princess is the problem instead of a humble pirate, who’s trying to simply live his life—”

“A rather pathetic excuse of a life.” I cut him off, unaware of the eyes on the two of us, “And you’re far from being humble, Song Mingi. You always try to bring me down, but you fail to realize that you’re just as horrible, arrogant, and annoying as I am, you asshat. Telling Yeosang yesterday that despite being a doctor for so many years he was quite shit at stitching people up, berating Jongho for having his head in the clouds instead of taking his duties more seriously, laughing at Taeri when she failed to lift that horribly heavy chest filled with weapons, and even telling your own Captain that his decision making had been questionable lately, are certainly out of good intention, right, Mingi? And not because you’re just an arrogant man who thinks highly of himself, certainly not looking down on the people around him?”

Mingi’s jaw had clenched as he gripped the spoon tighter in his hand, knuckles whitening, “You know nothing about me, and I advise you shut up if you don’t want to become shark dinner.”

“Oh, spare me, Mingi.” I hissed, nose flaring, “Unless you mean what you say, stop wasting everyone’s air.”

“Get up!” Mingi’s voice was suddenly deep as it boomed around us, making a few pirates flinch as they weren’t bothered enough to watch the exchange between the two of us, “Get the fuck up, right now!”

“You will not tell me what to do, you filthy—” I gasped as Mingi grabbed my bicep and yanked me up to my feet harshly, making my eyes widen. I pulled on my arm, but his grip tightened as he tried to make me step over the bench we had been sitting on, but I wouldn’t budge as I held onto the table. Somebody cleared their throat, but my eyes were set on Mingi only, my face red from anger as my heart started racing. His eyes had significantly darkened, and his breathing was heavy, eyes narrow slits. Gone was the playful and arrogant Mingi, instead a frightening man stood in his place, probably finally ready to throw me overboard as he had reached his limit.

“And you will learn your lesson tonight, princess.” Mingi hissed, making me tumble almost to the floor as he pulled on my arm harshly, forcing me to step over the bench.

“Song Mingi.” It was clear who’s voice it was, Yunho sounded slightly concerned, “Stop.”

But neither Mingi nor I were paying attention to anyone but the other, “Do you think I don’t hate this as much as you do, Mingi? You ripped me away from my life and forced me to live on this—ship filled with pirates, who would love to do bad things to me—and you expect me to just listen to you and respect you?”

“Have I given you any reasons not to?!” Mingi’s voice raised as he closed the gap between our bodies, his hot breath fanning against my face, “Have I treated you like any of those pirates? Haven’t I been looking out for you?! Haven’t I been keeping you safe?”

“You kidnapped me!” I screamed and tried to push him away, but he didn’t even flinch.

“For your money!” Mingi screamed back, “I demanded nothing else of you when I could’ve! I could’ve done horrible things to you, and I didn’t.”

“And do you want me to bow down, and thank you for that?” I scoffed, sneering at him, “You want me to thank you for acting like a human being with me?”

“Yes, you could fix your attitude starting there.” Mingi snapped, and I bit my lip in frustration, uncomfortable now that I realized everyone was watching us, gaping at us. I didn’t want to do this anymore; I don’t even understand why we had to snap at each other every single time a little inconvenience happened.

“Excuse me if my papa failed to teach me how to apologize, because I will be not apologizing to you when you only insult me all the time.” I tried to yank my arm free again, but Mingi still wasn’t budging. His eyebrows furrowed and he leaned down, looking me in the eyes.

“When have I insulted you?” He chuckled, and I released a deep breath to try and stay level headed.

“Just right now?” I asked with a disbelieving laugh, “You think that I’m stupid and good for nothing, that I don’t respect people, and only use them when I need something from them. You keep saying I’m stuck up and look down on anyone who’s bellow my status—when have I treated you like that?”

“Don’t tell me when you saw me at that stupid ball you didn’t only want to approach me because you thought I was rich?” Mingi scoffed, rolling his eyes as I bit my lower lip, heart hammering in my chest.

“I didn’t—it was one of the factors, but not the main one—” My thoughts were running a mile per hour. Mingi was right, in some way, but he also didn’t know everything. He couldn’t possibly have realized that I stopped caring whether he was rich or not.

“What’s the main one then, huh?” Mingi snapped, cutting me off as I averted my eyes to the floor, cheeks flushing. I didn’t want to say it, not in front of everyone. I was embarrassed, but Mingi’s fingers only tightened around my bicep, and I sighed, swallowing my pride for the first time in my life.

“The same reason for why I trusted you since the moment you made that creepy man go away at the pub. Because you made me feel safe, because despite not knowing me, you looked out for me. Because you never once tried to approach me at the ball, unlike every other desperate man there, and you didn’t even want to stick around at the pub. I know—I know it was probably part of your stupid scheme, but if you wouldn’t have been gentle and nice to me, I would’ve never allowed you to hold me like that while I was drunk and out of it.” I took a deep breath as I felt Mingi’s grip loosen significantly, “The same reason as to why I didn’t throw a tantrum when you wouldn’t sleep on the floor, when you refused to put pillows between us while sleeping. For the same bloody reason, Mingi, why I asked for your help with my corset when I could’ve easily asked Taeri.”

I let out a shuddered breath, feeling Mingi’s hand slowly slip down my arm, covering my skin in goosebumps in its wake, lips slightly trembling from the embarrassment I felt admitting all of that without an ounce of privacy, “I can’t help it that I was raised like this. I can’t help but look at my maids and feel little compassion for them because serving me is their job. And I know I’m mean and vile to them, but I care for them. I always did. They’ve been there for me when nobody else was. I never had friends because my father wouldn’t allow me, but Soyeon and Soojin were there, they played with me and cheered me up. I know I’m horrible, but I always showered them with gifts, and anything that I didn’t need anymore.

“I can’t help the fact that when I look at you I see a simple man, hard-working, but just barely making it through each day, when my father raised me to be able to pinpoint the differences between a poor and a rich man. It’s not my fault that the first thing I look at are your clothing, shoes, and jewelry, to determine your wealth. It’s not my fault that my governess taught me etiquette, and that I was reprimanded every time I would slouch, laugh loudly, or even as little as mumble my words. I never had a mother, she died while giving birth to me. I can’t help the fact that I cling onto whoever gives me even a little bit of affection and care. I was never allowed to do what I wanted; I was never allowed to explore. I’m locked up in my mansion all day, listening to my father and his disgusting old friends, wondering when a prince would finally find me and whisk me away. I’m sorry if you think I’ve been a…bitch to you, but I do not know how to act when I’m around people like you. I only see hierarchy. and the filth that surrounds me here.”

I fell silent for a second, taking a deep breath as Mingi watched me stunned, gripping my wrist almost as if afraid that I would disappear. The silence that stretched on was awkward, even when Seonghwa softly whispered my name from the table, “But it doesn’t mean I’m not open to learning. To forgetting all the prejudice I was raised with. To letting go of society’s norms, to find myself and learn who I really am underneath all the lavish and puff, the huge dresses, and fake tea parties. I was willing to learn, Mingi, but you never gave me a chance. You just…assumed I’m a stupid, stuck-up bitch, and went with it, never failing to remind me of it. You never saw how curiously I watched you each time you were working, discussing the guns with Seonghwa and your Captain. You never paid enough attention to notice the longing stares I would give Yunho and Taeri whenever they were sparring, wanting to learn as well. And you never looked long enough to see the smile on my face each time I would spot my favorite book on your desk, fingers tracing the title, fondly remembering the time I had snuck the book out of my father’s library to read it overnight, getting punished for it the next day because I had taken something from the forbidden section.”

“Y/N…” Mingi sounded breathless as I stepped back, suddenly aware that tears were rolling down my cheeks, even more embarrassed when I glanced towards the table. Hana was cuddled up into Yeosang, who looked sorry, Seonghwa and Taeri mirroring his expression. Hongjoong was eating, looking rather irritated by the commotion, but I didn’t miss the exasperated glare he sent at Mingi. Yunho was glaring at his best friend, arms crossed in front of his chest as he shook his head, and Jongho looked mad as he was glaring at Mingi. I cleared my throat and tried to ignore the rest of the pirates I didn’t know as most seemed amused as I quickly wiped my tears and looked at Seonghwa.

“I’m sorry, my appetite is gone.” I muttered, stepping back from Mingi, and giving him a look when he tried to grab me again, “But dinner was delicious, even better than the one’s at home usually are.”

Seonghwa smiled warmly, nodding his head once, “Wooyoung is our original cook, but he’s still got some weeks until he returns to us. It’s a pity you won’t get to meet him.”

“Yeah, a pity.” I sighed, not knowing whether I was happy or not about it, “I wish you all a good evening, I hope I hadn’t ruined your evening.”

“Y/N!” Mingi called out as I turned and stormed off, almost running into a man out in the hallway as he was about to step inside the kitchen. His already sharp eyes narrowed and I furrowed my eyebrows, my skin covered in chills due to the dangerous smirk on his lips. His eyes traveled over my body and he chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you a treat, princess?” His voice was smooth and as he attempted to step towards me, I held a hand out.

“You must be San, then.” I recalled Mingi advising me to stay away from him, something about him being really dangerous.

“Oh,” He chuckled, making me tense up as he licked his red lips, “and who are you?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, glaring at him when he tried to step closer again, “I’m here with Mingi, either way.”

A defeated look crossed his face for a second, before he hummed, “What a pity, you would’ve made us a lot of money.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I took a step back, unsettled by his words just as much as I was confused, “Of course Mingi would pick you, a noble just like him, but even richer. I bet his mother would be elated if he returned home with you, all of his sins forgotten.”

“Good night.” I snapped, feeling uncomfortable as I didn’t want to find out about who Mingi was by someone else. I wanted him to tell me about himself, but after the argument, I was sure he’d ignore me until my father finally pays up. I stormed off towards Mingi’s room, not waiting for San to say anything else, weirded out by his whole aura and the hunger in his eyes as he watched me.

And the evening passed by fast after that, I had changed into my night gown, borrowed from Hana, and laid in bed, contemplating over everything that’s happened to me so far. I really wanted to go home and forget everything that’s happened, ready to close this chapter and leave it behind me. Perhaps there was a moment when I had considered Mingi to be the prince I have been longing for, but after tonight, I have concluded that the two of us didn’t belong together. We are too different, too prideful and stubborn to ever admit to our faults, to even try to fix our damaged…friendship? I didn’t know what to consider ourselves, but Mingi was the closest thing to a friend I could ever have, with Taeri, and perhaps, Jongho as well. I had been laying in the dark, on my back, when the door opened and Mingi’s tall frame walked further inside the room, closing the door carefully. The floorboards were old and creaky, yet I could hear him being careful as he shuffled towards his closet, taking a peek at me. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, to which Mingi moved even more carefully as he opened his old closet door, gasping when it almost moved off its hinges again. I carefully opened an eye, taking a peek in Mingi’s direction. He had his back to me and both of my eyes snapped open as pulled his black tank top off his body, his broad back exposed to my eyes. My face flushed as I watched him change, until I realized he might want me to offer him some privacy, prompting myself to squeeze my eyes shut. I stopped breathing when I heard him moving around again, only to feel the bed dip next to my body. Mingi’s room was small, and so, his bed wasn’t very spacious for two people, but we somehow made it work to stay far away from each other when sleeping. The blanket shifted for a second and I felt Mingi slip in underneath, softly releasing the breath I had been holding as I shifted, turning my back to him. Mingi sniffed once and didn’t bother to speak up, so I forced myself to keep my eyes shut and just fall asleep. The quicker the next day comes, the better.

But it was easier said than done when my mind was reeling with thoughts, forbidding me from sleeping. I bit my lower lip as I shifted for the nth time, facing Mingi, but never opening my eyes to see him. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t want to actively acknowledge it. I was embarrassed by the scene we had caused in the kitchen, and especially for saying those things to him in front of everyone. That wasn’t how I wanted to pour my heart out to him, to admit that I had started feeling something for him. I couldn’t define what it was, but it was something. And it made me hope that I would be able to leave this place soon, scared that I would fall for the pirate. Nobody’s ever treated me as humanly as him before, teaching me that I wasn’t as special as I once had believed. Perhaps I was privileged, and I had failed to notice that. With a quiet sigh, I turned back onto my back, the old mattress shifting with my movements as a low groan came from Mingi. I almost opened my eyes, but instead decided that now I would fall asleep—except that suddenly there was movement next to me, and suddenly a weight was pressing me down into the bed, making my eyes snap open as Mingi grabbed my arms and pressed them on each side of my head, grip firm. I gaped up at him as he sat on my hips, eyebrows deeply furrowed. It was dark in the room, but the moonlight shone through the little round window, falling on Mingi. The shadows falling on his face made him even more intimidating, and I came to the startling realization, that Mingi’s shirt was completely undone, his torso exposed. Before I could stop myself, my eyes glazed over his well-defined body, toned chest and firm stomach, cheeks flushing as I looked back up in his eyes, throat dry all of a sudden.

“Stop moving so much, I can’t sleep.” Mingi snapped quietly, eyebrows furrowing.

“I can’t sleep.” I muttered, frowning back at him, “Is it necessary to pin me down, Mingi?”

“Well—” He seemed to realize what he had done, cheeks turning darker instantly, but he made no effort to move, “Will you stop, then?”

“Once I fall asleep—”

“I’ll kick you out.” Mingi quickly cut me off, making me roll my eyes. My heartbeat was steadily quickening, a warm feeling overtaking my whole body once again the longer Mingi sat on top of me.

“Kick me out, then, I’ll go sleep in Seonghwa’s room or something.” I scoffed, adding quietly, “Maybe even Jongho’s.”

“No.” Mingi’s tone was serious and his hands slightly tightened around my arms, making me raise an eyebrow at him, “I mean, no, you don’t have to do that when you can sleep here…with me.”

“Not if you kick me out.” I muttered, body softening under Mingi. He gulped and paused for a second, sitting back on his heels as he slowly released my arms, my fingers brushing against his with a small smile. My face was burning, but so was his, so I didn’t pay it much attention. He must feel flustered as well, then.

“I won’t kick you out.” Mingi whispered, looking off to the side. My smile widened as my fingers firmly grasped the sturdy object in my hand now, feeling around the silver ring. It was warm, due to Mingi wearing it all day long, and it was almost a little crooked, as if Mingi had been wearing it for a long time now. I raised my hand and looked at it, but held it in a way Mingi couldn’t see it. My movement caught his attention and he looked back at me, eyebrows slightly furrowing as he pouted, turning his head to try and see what was in my hand.

“Did you know I really liked rubies?” I asked nonchalantly, swiftly slipping the ringer on my ring finger. Of course, it was rather large for me, but I could still play around with it.

“No, you never told me.” Mingi whispered, closely watching me.

“You never asked, about anything for that matter,” I looked up at Mingi, licking my lips, “You never bothered to get to know me, you know?”

As Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I turned my left hand around, watching as it took a few seconds for Mingi to realize what he was staring at. His eyes widened and he went to quickly check his own hand, his ruby ring indeed missing.

“How did you do that?” He asked, sounding slightly disturbed, as he caught my hand in his, “I didn’t even feel it.”

I smiled cheekily, allowing him to slip the ring off my finger to place it back on his middle one, “I’m quite good, aren’t I?”

Mingi chuckled and nodded once, slightly leaning back down, my muscles tensing at the shift of his weight on top of my body, “I think I should be given some credit too; don’t you think?”

My eyes widened as he casually dangled my favorite bracelet in my face, which had been on my right wrist before Mingi had gotten on top of me, “How did you do that?”

“Just like you did.” Mingi chuckled and motioned for me to extend my arm towards him, so I did. He carefully placed the thin bracelet around my wrist and clasped it shut, fingers softly grazing against my skin. I gulped as I looked up in his eyes, an intense look crossing Mingi’s face. My heart started racing again, and I found myself yearning to feel him closer to me, just as close as he had been earlier today after the pillow fight. The thought was alarming, but I couldn’t help but want it more. But to my surprise, Mingi moved off of me, laying back down next to me, his hand brushing mine after he settled underneath the blanket again.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N.” He muttered and as I glanced at him, I found his head turned towards me as he was looking at me with a solemn look on his face, “You were right at dinner, I made no effort to get to know you, to look past your attitude and actually try to see who you truly are. I’ve insulted you countless times and even tried to turn the others against you, I’m sorry.”

I hummed as I turned my head to be able to look at Mingi easier, biting my lower lip for a second, “I’m sorry too, I was horrible with you. I know I’m difficult, but I was scared, and just wanted to go back home. I’ve never been away from the manor like this and everything is just…new. I didn’t know what type of man you were, so I thought remaining cold would push you away, and you’d just leave me alone and return me to my father sooner.”

Mingi chuckled and lightly shook his head, “Nothing you do could veer me away from money.”

I chuckled and nodded; however I felt a little bitter knowing that Mingi only needed me for my money. That perhaps he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in me, just my money. And it was possible that that was the case, “Are you just…really not interested in me?”

It was weird hearing myself sound so small and almost insecure, wanting to understand Mingi’s thought process.

“That’s not it,” Mingi sighed, turning his head to look up at the ceiling, “I see myself in you, you know? That’s why I never bothered to treat you better, because I knew that once I got what I initially wanted, you’d be gone. You’d be back to living your perfect posh life, marrying some rich guy and never once having to worry about anything. And I found myself jealous of you.”

“Jealous?” I asked surprised, turning onto my side to face Mingi, my undivided attention on him.

“Yes,” Mingi whispered as he gulped, taking a deep breath, “I was born and raised in the Sun Rise Kingdom as well, just like you. And it would surprise you, Y/N, but I’m from a rich family. Not as rich as yours, we could never afford ourselves a mansion, but we did bathe in milk thrice a week. And my parents were affluential people in my town, had some ties with the Queen as well, but I was never too invested in the family business to learn more about that.”

My eyes had widened as I looked at Mingi, who’s eyes found mine as he turned his head, a small smile on his lips, “I was raised by a harsh governess, who lectured me too often about my behavior. I was never good enough or smart enough compared to my older brothers, and I was never talented enough. My parents neglected me quite often, my middle brother turned into my main caretaker, basically.”

Unconsciously, my hand moved under the blanket until it found Mingi’s hand, and our fingers intertwined as I squeezed his in reassurance, “Things only started getting worse when they found out I stole from people. Anything I could get my hands on, would end up in my grasp by the end of the night. I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t stop myself. It’s like I wasn’t in control when I was doing these things, it was very humiliating. Especially when the constable caught me and locked me up for a whole week. My parents were very disappointed, and after that, they never treated me the same.”

“Mingi.” I whispered and he smiled sadly, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“They rarely allowed me to leave the house, but I would sneak out to play with the neighbor’s kids. They didn’t like me much, but I was desperate to do anything to play with someone, and so they would often chase me towards the cliffs, where they would tell me to leave them alone unless I wanted to get in trouble.” Mingi chuckled, but a somber look crossed his features, “My luck ran out one day. I stood too close to the edge and slipped. I don’t remember much from there, just the sharp rocks and the cold water, my lungs burning and eyes stinging.”

“That is horrible.” I whispered as my eyebrows furrowed, and without thinking first, my right hand went and cupped Mingi’s cheek, his skin soft and warm underneath my palm. Mingi’s eyes fluttered closed for a second, before he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, smiling softly.

“I woke up a week later, on this ship.” He chuckled, amusement written all over his face as he lightly pressed his face more into my palm, nose brushing against my wrist, “I was terrified, everyone looked so scary. I was raised by posh people, surrounded by aristocracy and cleanness all my life. The stench on the ship was horrible and I threw up way too often until I finally got used to it. At first, I begged Captain Kim, Hongjoong’s father, to take me home, but the closer we got towards the shore of the Sun Rise Kingdom, the harder I started realizing that this was the most freedom I had ever felt my whole life. Nobody treated me bad here for not being smart, nobody lectured me for misbehaving, and Captain Kim even seemed concerned over my well-being as he had raised two sons of his own. He was gentle with children. And some of the boys were already here, Yunho took me under his wing almost immediately. It was a foreign feeling having a boy close to my age so friendly and nice to me. He genuinely wanted to be my friend, and I finally had stopped feeling alone. I had realized I didn’t want to return home anymore.”

I chuckled, fingers lightly grazing against Mingi’s cheekbone, “So you stayed and became a pirate? How did you manage, Song Mingi? The once rich boy, now poor and smelly.”

I giggled as Mingi rolled his eyes, “I’m not smelly. But yes, it was hard at the beginning. I had to work to earn my money, and I wasn’t good at anything. Until Captain Kim showed me how to deal with guns, training me to become their best gunner. And I found a family within the crew, although some of them are questionable people, I still consider them my family.”

I smiled as I nodded, a warm feeling settling in my chest. So much made sense now, his gentleness and understanding. He was respectful, and carried himself with grace. He looked nothing like a pirate once out of his silly clothes, and it all made sense now as to why, “But why are you jealous of me?”

Mingi chuckled, and I was startled as he pressed a small kiss into my wrist, looking down as his cheeks suddenly flushed red, “Your father cares about you. He loves you and would do anything to have you back. I never had parents like him. I’ve always felt lonely and weird when I was around my family. Despite my middle brother taking care of me, I knew he wasn’t too fond of me and was only doing it because he felt pity towards me.”

“Just because my father loves me, doesn’t mean I don’t feel lonely.” I whispered, suddenly overcome with emotion. I’ve never opened up to anyone before, “I—I don’t have any friends. I’m alone in the mansion, unless my father is at home. I can’t talk to most servants as they are around my age and my father forbid them from doing so. I only have my two maids, who hate me. And my governess always preached on about me having to remain pretty so that a man would want to marry me. She taught me manners that would appeal to a rich man to take me as his wife. I learned everything else I know on my own, browsing through my mother’s books, which are in the forbidden section of the library. I never got to know her, and yet I miss her every day. I wonder what she would have been like, if she would have treated me like my father or not. If she would’ve locked me up in the mansion like my father does, or would’ve let me discover the world on my own. You taking me here is the most fun I’ve had my whole life, Mingi. I don’t hate it as much as I say I do. Although, the stench does get horrible at times.”

Mingi chuckled as his eyes found mine, and I grinned, “You deal better with it than I did.”

“Because I’m better than you.” I teased and Mingi rolled his eyes, suddenly shifting closer as he turned onto his side too, our bodies facing each other as our knees touched underneath the blanket, our fingers intertwined, “Did you know people who have this urge to take things, to collect them, are called kleptomaniacs?”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly shook his head no, “Well, I think you might be one.”

“Really?” Mingi asked quietly and I nodded.

“Yes, because I think I am one too.” I grinned as I started playing with Mingi’s ruby ring, his eyes falling on the item, “Because I also take things from people. It started out as a prank at first, back at the mansion. I would take things without people noticing and wait for the servants or my father to start searching for them, wanting to see how long until they realized they weren’t there. But I always got away with it, so I became bold. I started stealing from other people, and I was never caught. I’ve been stealing jewelry and smaller items since I’m ten, Mingi.”

“What?!” Mingi looked alarmed, and I giggled, nodding my head.

“It’s bad, I know.” I shrugged, “But what started out as a joke became a serious issue as I couldn’t stop anymore. I do it without noticing now. I just see something pretty that I would like to have, and the next second I find it in my hands. If my father were to find out, he’d certainly be horrified by his little daughter not being perfect anymore.”

“I think you’re perfect.” My cheeks flushed as Mingi whispered, eyes racking over my face, almost as if searching for something.

“Your compliments feel a lot more sincere than the ones I’ve been getting back home from all the other men.” I muttered, finding myself thinking out loud. Mingi’s fingers tightened against mine, and I looked away embarrassed.

“Because they are sincere.” Mingi’s tone was firm, his voice deep, “I wouldn’t say something I don’t mean.”

I chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “So, I really am a bitch?”

“At times.” My eyes widened at his sincerity, but before I could pull away, Mingi chuckled, “But you’re also quite cool. I never expected a lady like you to punch a man, let alone break his nose.”

“I was mad.” I tried to defend myself as Mingi hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I realized I had my hand on his face still, so I quickly pulled it away and noted how calm I felt, wrapped in the vanilla and gunpowder scent.

“I think we’ll get a letter from your father soon.” My eyebrows furrowed at Mingi’s words, something in my stomach suddenly dropping. Why did the thought not feel so inviting anymore? Why did I find myself wanting to spend a little more time with Mingi?

“Oh.” I whispered barely, eyebrows furrowing, “Will you tell me stories of your childhood?”

“Do you want me to?” Mingi asked surprised, and I nodded with a smile, “Alright, so…”

And I closed my eyes to listen more attentively, his eyes too distracting to be looking at Mingi’s face, but I found his deep voice soothing as it lulled me to sleep.

            Waking up in the mornings had always been difficult back home, in my comfortable Queen-sized bed, but here on the ship it seemed to get even more difficult. Perhaps it was the even rocking of the ship, or the warmth, which enveloped my whole body, making me feel content as I would nuzzle further into the silky pillow, Mingi’s vanilla scent strong as I could hear him snoring lightly or groaning in his sleep. But today, the vanilla and gunpowder scent seemed more prominent, the warmth emanating from next to me almost making me feel hot, and instead of the silky pillow, my head was pressed against something harder, firmer, and certainly warmer. I had started to stir upon hearing some loud voices down the hallway, outside the safety of Mingi’s room. I couldn’t understand their words, but a woman and a man were certainly arguing. Yeosang and Hana never seemed like the type to argue, and meanwhile Taeri and Yunho could get riled up by each other, I’ve never actually heard them argue in front of everyone all these days I’ve been here on this ship. A door down the hallway was slammed shut loudly, and I sighed loudly, licking my dry lips as I pressed my cheek a little harder against my pillow. It took a few more minutes to become aware of the weight around my waist, or the way my bare calf was brushing against another clothed leg. Growing suddenly stiff, my eyes snapped open, only for my jaw to fall slack as I was presented with an alarming image.

I was laying all over Mingi, right leg thrown over his hips as it was comfortably slotted between his legs, my right hand intertwined with his left one as Mingi’s fingers would absentmindedly flex around mine. I gasped as I looked down, the blanket hanging low around our hips, the skirt of my nightgown ridden up to my thighs, making my cheeks flush. My heart was hammering against my ribcage, and I couldn’t help but not only feel embarrassed, but…I was suddenly overcome with a fiery need as my fingers tightened against Mingi’s, holding his hand a little firmer. My breathing progressively got harder, and I allowed my eyes to rake over his tan chest, muscles now soft but toned, Mingi’s chest rising and falling evenly as he was still asleep. I couldn’t help but gulp as I found the sight of Mingi completely ravishing, a foreign need in my body urging me on to press a kiss against Mingi’s right pectoral. Mingi sighed softly, and I raised my head slightly to watch as his eyebrows furrowed before he settled back down, seemingly still asleep. I bit my lower lip, eyes fixated on his perfect face as the sunlight poured in through the little window, perfectly falling on his handsome face. Mingi mumbled something, and I froze, eyes widening in fright that I was caught. But his eyes were still closed and he sighed again, his tongue peeking slightly out as he licked his lower lip, gulping before another sigh left his lips. My eyes had been fixated on his plush lips, and I found my heart beating faster as I envisioned what they would’ve felt like pressed against mine, soft and warm, no doubt devouring mine in a feverish kiss. I gulped as shivers ran down my body, stomach clenching, and I realized that I had to get away from Mingi, that I needed fresh air to clear my thoughts. To sort out these weird yearnings of my body towards this pirate, decide whether they were happening because I’ve been spending too much time with him or because, indeed, I had started falling for him.

So, I very slowly tried to peel myself off Mingi, but when I went to move my right leg off his body, suddenly his hand holding mine released my hand and went to my naked knee, grabbing it and holding it flush against his hips. I froze as I bit my lower lip, realizing that this would be harder than I thought initially. I sighed quietly and tried again, but his other arm only tightened around my waist and I was suddenly yanked back into his body, making me fall back against his chest with a loud gasp.

“Stop moving.” Mingi croaked out, his morning voice gravely deep as he groaned. My cheeks flushed instantly as I found my body shivering, something coiling in my lower stomach. I have never felt like this before, having never been this close to a man, never so desperately having to hold myself back from doing something I might regret later.

“Mingi,” I whispered, trying to collect myself, “we have to get up.”

“No, we don’t.” Mingi groaned, and I stiffened when I felt his calloused palm caressing the back of my thigh, reaching just a bit higher, underneath my nightgown. My heart was racing in my chest, right fingers fisting the bedsheet next to Mingi’s torso. Mingi’s breathy voice and closed eyes were a clear enough sign that he hadn’t fully woken up yet, and I tried to ignore the way his fingers dug into my skin around my waist, “It’s too early.”

“I don’t think it is,” I mumbled, turning my head to look towards the window, “The sun is high up in the sky.”

Mingi scoffed, and I felt him shrugging, “So what?”

“Don’t you have duties you have to attend?” I whispered, looking up at him, and I had to stop myself from pressing a kiss against his jaw.

“Nothing too urgent,” Mingi sniffed and then groaned as his fingers flexed against my naked skin, “they can wait a little longer.”

I’ve never in my life before had the urge to straddle someone, and my jaw clenched as I raised my head off Mingi’s chest, staring down at his face intently, “Mingi, I need fresh air. Right now.”

He tsked and only grabbed me harder, hitching my leg higher up on his body, and I gasped as Mingi pulled me on top of himself, large palm pressing against my lower back as he gingerly started massaging me through the light fabric of the nightgown, “What are you doing?”

Perhaps the strain in my voice finally snapped him wide awake, or the fact that our lower bodies were pressed against each other, something pressing against my thigh as I gulped, afraid to move. Mingi’s eyes snapped wide open and he raised his head, looking down at me. He froze as he took me in, no doubt my whole face flushed, and lips red from how much I had been biting them. Mingi’s face reddened instantly, and he averted his eyes, which had started slipping down my neck and chest, the nightgown having slipped a little lower across my chest. It didn’t help that Mingi went to sleep with his own shirt unbuttoned, firm torso on full display as I suddenly pressed my hands against his bare chest, sitting slightly up.

“Fuck.” Mingi hissed as he threw his head back, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gripped my waist, stabilizing me. I had thought the same thing, but I couldn’t say it out loud as I was a lady, but his hardness was suddenly pressing against me in a rather sensitive spot, making me gasp. Mingi’s fingers tightened around my waist as I shifted subconsciously, the friction foreign but not unpleasant at all, “You have to get off.”

“I’ve been trying to,” I was breathless as Mingi looked at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “But you wouldn’t let me.”

He gulped and nodded once, eyebrows furrowing, seemingly in deep thought for a second, “Because I want you.”

My eyes widened at his words, lips parting as I gaped at him, never having heard those words from a man before. I knew what it implied, I had read a romance book once where things took an unexpected turn, but nobody has ever said those things to me up until now. It made my skin tingle, my cheeks flush a darker color as Mingi’s intense eyes stared up into mine, eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“But I’m going home soon,” I whispered, completely at a loss because I found myself wanting him as well, “And I…we can’t.”

“I know.” Mingi gulped, trying to mask his disappointment, but I could hear it still tinge his tone, “Of course I do. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” I cut him off, almost desperately, “I—I think I also—”

The door suddenly slammed open and I jumped as Mingi instinctively pulled me down against himself, bringing the blanket over my body as he hugged me into his body around my middle. I watched with wide eyes and a racing heart as the Captain walked a little further inside the room, arms crossed in front of his chest, giving us a scrutinizing gaze. He looked unimpressed and almost exasperated as he sighed loudly, rolling his eyes for a second, “Your father wrote us a letter. He wants you home today, the money is prepared. The exchange happens at noon, so get up.”

Something dropped in my stomach when I heard those words, and I found my fingers curling into Mingi’s shirt, as if I didn’t want to leave, to let go of him. But wasn’t that what I’ve wanted all this time? To go home? To forget about Mingi and everyone else, and just continue living my life the way I was supposed to? To find a rich husband, marry into a rich family, and raise children of my own? Wasn’t that the plan all along?

“Aye, Captain.” Mingi’s tone lacked any cheeriness or playfulness, and I found myself reluctant to look at him. It sounded like he wasn’t ready to return me to my father just yet. But the Captain grunted once before he stormed out, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Mingi and I moved at the same time, his arms freeing me as I scrambled off him, suddenly aware of what I almost allowed to happen if the Captain wouldn’t have walked in. I was ready to give myself to Mingi, and I didn’t know what to do with that revelation as I stumbled for a second, hissing as I had almost stepped into that wretched hole in the floorboards. This is why I needed to go home. I didn’t belong here; I didn’t belong with Mingi. I was an aristocrat, Mingi was a lowlife. We would never work out our differences. We weren’t right for each other.

I stiffened as I grabbed my clothes, realizing that they weren’t even mine in the first place, and would have to wear the dress I had arrived in. But I didn’t have it in me to put it on myself, not when I haven’t had a milk bath in almost a week. I couldn’t dirty my mother’s dress like that, it had already been damaged, much to my dismay.

“I’ll go change, be back in ten.” Mingi’s voice was small as he got off the bed as well, headed towards his closet.

“Just change in here,” I found myself muttering, turning my back to him as I slipped the nightgown off myself. I knew I just exposed myself to him completely, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care anymore. Everything felt bitter, my mind a mess as I suddenly didn’t know what I wanted anymore, of where I belonged, of who I was. Mingi remained silent and I heard him shuffling around, probably changing too. I quickly wore my short silky gown, and pulled on the low V-neck black t-shirt Mingi had borrowed me yesterday over it, saying that it would be cooler today. I tucked the material inside the leather pants belonging to Taeri, and then quickly put on Mingi’s white shirt, only buttoning it up to my chest as it was covered by a different material underneath. I gazed at my corset longingly, remembering seeing Taeri wear it once like that, over her shirt. So, I grasped at it and sighed, placing it around my torso. It brought little sense of familiarity, of something that I once wore daily not even a week ago. But now it felt weird, still undone yet already constricting, a reminder of who I was, of what I was walking back to.

“Mingi?” I cleared my throat, finding it rather dry all of a sudden. When he hummed, I spoke up quietly, “Could you lace up my corset?”

His intake of breath was sharp, perhaps a reminder that not even six days ago he was the one undoing it, welcoming me inside his life, now about to send me away from it. He hummed without saying a word, and I heard him as he walked closer, taking the lace from my hands as he softly started pulling on them, securing them.

“How tight?” He asked, his voice raspy and low as my jaw clenched.

“Tight.” Was the only thing I said, and gasped lightly when he pulled on the strings harshly, forcing me to brace myself against the chair in front of his desk. My fingers curled around the sturdy wood with each constricting knot, biting my lower lip as my lungs were once again struggling to fill to the brim with air. This is what I was used to, a little reminder of what my life was like before Mingi whisked me away from my monotonous days. Before he made my days more enjoyable, and showed me that there was a life worth living, a life you could enjoy to the fullest.

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded small, and tight, and I hummed as he laced it up fully, tightening the top and doing the last knots to it. I took a deep breath and sighed loudly, palms turning into fists as Mingi gently tapped my waist as a signal that he was done, that I was ready. But I didn’t feel ready, I was far from being ready. I bit my lower lip as my heartbeat picked up again, conflicting thoughts racing in my head as I heard Mingi inhale sharply, prompting me to whirl around.

Our eyes locked, and before I could list all the reasons why this would be wrong, I lurched forward just as Mingi grabbed my cheeks, our lips smashing together. My eyebrows furrowed as I finally felt his plush and soft skin against mine, lips exactly the same way I had imagined them. I’ve never kissed a man before in my life, but it felt right to have Mingi be the first one to do so. My arms quickly wrapped around his neck as I pushed up on my tip toes, leaning my body against Mingi’s as he pulled back for a second, before pressing his lips against mine again, slotting his upper lip between mine as he lightly sucked on my lower lip. Everything felt new, but exhilarating as my cheeks burned, lips pressing against Mingi’s desperately, trying to allow him to lead, to guide me as the feeling was foreign, but oh so good. His warm hands left my cheeks in exchange to grip my waist and the back of my head as his ring clad fingers tangled into my long locks of curly hair, his nose pressing into the warm skin of my cheek as I found myself desperate to feel more. I became aware that I had quickened the once experimental pace Mingi’s lips had set, and was now pressing my lips harder against his, ravaging his mouth as Mingi whined when my fingers subconsciously tangled in his short hair, delicately yanking on the strands. His grip on my waist tightened, and I felt him walking me backwards hurriedly, his lips pressing bruisingly against mine as I was suddenly overwhelmed by the strong scent of vanilla as I tried to inhale through my nose, lungs long burning due to the corset, but due to Mingi stealing my breath away as wll. My left hand slowly slipped down to his jaw to hold onto him as our teeth suddenly clanked together, slightly startling me, but only urging me to chase after Mingi’s lips when he attempted to pull back. My teeth latched onto his lower lip as the back of my legs hit the desk behind me, and I sucked on Mingi’s lower lip as he pushed me down onto the desk, groaning against my mouth as I found myself licking at his lips, wanting even more of him. I didn’t recognize myself for a second, but this is what I’ve wanted, and I was done repressing my wants and needs because they were wrong or not lady like. I wanted Mingi, and I would get what I wanted from now on. Nobody could control me anymore. I was my own person.

I gasped as I felt Mingi’s big hand slip down from my waist towards my thigh, and his calloused hand firmly gripped it as he yanked me lower on his deck, back arching when I felt his lean body pressing against mine, stepping between my legs. My hand let go of his jaw as Mingi instead of holding the back of my head proceeded to tilt my chin up with the steady grip he had on it, and softly, but surely coerced my lips open, mouth parting for him. I sneaked my hand around his narrow waist covered with his leather belt, moaning into his mouth when I felt his tongue just lightly, teasingly, slip past my lips, licking inside my mouth. My body felt alive, skin tingling, and senses heightened as Mingi’s whole being enraptured mine, the only thing being him on my mind as he explored my mouth, liking at my tongue as my legs wrapped around his hips, caging him against myself, and Mingi groaned, his kiss turning feverish. Our tongues danced together, and I normally would’ve been embarrassed by the soft keens leaving my mouth, but this was Mingi, and I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him back just as badly. I didn’t want to ever let go of him; afraid we’d never find our way back to each other. My lungs had started burning as dark spots started appearing behind my closed eyes, and as much as I never wanted to part from his addictive lips, I needed air. So, I softly pulled back, gasping loudly as my chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted as I intake small gasps of air. Mingi leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine, his breathing just as ragged as mine as our breaths tangled together, our pants loud in the quiet room. There was the occasional wave hitting the side of the ship harsher as we tried to regain ourselves, but I found myself clinging tighter and tighter against Mingi, both legs wrapped around his hips and pulling him into myself as my fingers dug into his black silky shirt, silver chains dangling around his neck and chest as he was slightly leaning forward.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time now.” Mingi whispered, voice raspy as he sounded breathless. My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I watched as his eyes were still closed as he looked at ease, almost content as his lips were swollen, even plumper than they usually were.

“I’ve never been kissed before.” I found myself admitting as Mingi slowly opened his eyes, a small smile slipping onto his lips as he cupped my cheek with one hand, pressing a lasting kiss on my forehead first. My heart was hammering in my chest violently, and I flushed even more as he kissed my temple, then my eyes, my cheeks, nose, and the proceeded to plant a lasting kiss against my lips, making me clutch onto the collar of his shirt, refusing to allow him to pull back just yet. Our lips slowly started moving against each other again, and Mingi shuddered when I bit his lower lip again, yearning to remain close to him, wrapped up in his warmth and comforting vanilla scent mixed with gunpowder.

“I couldn’t let you go just like that.” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed once we pulled just slightly away, our noses brushing against each other. His eyes were casted downwards, and I felt my stomach clenching as I realized what he was implying. Suddenly, there was a desperate need clawing up my chest to never let him go, afraid of what that implied. We barely spent a week together, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him anymore. Even if we fought and teased each other, getting on each other’s nerves, leaving him behind felt…wrong. What if we could work on our differences? What if Mingi could teach me, and guide me towards being a better person? What if I just…left my old life behind to live with this silly pirate? Would my father understand? Would my mother be proud of me up in the Heavens?

“I don’t want to go,” I found myself confessing, Mingi’s eyes snapping open as he stared at me in disbelief. I gulped as I took a deep breath, body slightly trembling, but conviction in my eyes. I have made up my mind, and as I leaned forward, lips brushing against Mingi’s, I felt his body soften into mine, hands cupping my cheeks as I whispered against his lips, “I want you, Mingi.”

            The wind was harsh and cold as it rocked the small boat, the two pirates struggling to row against the big waves. Salt water sloshed inside the wooden boat, and I tried to keep my feet away from the water, but instead, a stronger wave managed to hit the side of the boat, big droplets of water splashing my side, making me gasp loudly as it soaked my attire. Mingi had an amused look on his face as he sat facing me, the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up almost to his biceps, straining as he was rowing as well, sweat shinning on his forehead in the beaming sunlight. Mingi had been right, the weather today was colder compared to the other days, and I was grateful that he borrowed me thicker clothes. As I looked over Mingi’s shoulder, my fingers clenched against each other as they were resting in my lap, intertwined, as I had noticed my father pacing up and down the shore. He seemed to be alone, nobody else in sight, and I could only assume that the deal would only proceed if he didn’t bring anyone with himself. My body was tense, and my stomach coiled the closer we got to the shore, eyes traveling to the high hill, falling on the window that I knew was my room. I was so close to returning home, barely minutes away from being in my father’s arms. But as my eyes fell on Mingi, who had turned around and instructed the other three pirates with us to stop rowing, I realized my life would never be the same. I didn’t want to go back to how it once was. Mingi turned in his seat, sharp eyes finding mine.

“Are you ready?” He asked, and I nodded once, making myself smaller as I caught another glimpse of my father, who had stopped pacing, and was now looking our way. My heart was hammering in my chest.

“Proceed with the plan.” Mingi’s firm voice instructed the other three pirates, and I gulped as two got off instantly, their feet barely reaching the sandy ground of the sea. I watched as the third person wearing my mother’s beautiful dress reached his hand out, almost comically elegantly, the two other pirates hauling him out of the boat. To my father, that man looked like it was me, a white veil covering his head to make him unrecognizable. I watched as the three pirates went closer to the shore, the one looking like me staying behind, making almost desperate sounding noises as he seemed to be slightly struggling to swim forward. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched his caricature performance, but wondered if that’s how these pirates had been viewing me all this time. As if sensing my doubts, Mingi’s hand reached forward, and he grasped mine tightly, leaning down to look me in the eyes, but still making he was covering me with his broad form from my father’s eyes.

“Are you sure, princess?” His voice was firm, “You can still change your mind, I won’t hold you back.”

“Mingi,” I sighed, intertwining our fingers tightly, “I have made up my mind. I want this. I want you.”

A beaming smile appeared on his face, and I don’t think Mingi had been ever handsomer than he was right now in the sunlight, his adorable front teeth slightly more forward than the rest, his sharp eyes disappearing, and nose scrunching. My stomach clenched and heart stuttered, and I found myself wondering if it was just a matter of time until I realized that I had fallen in love with him the second I had laid my eyes on him. At Mrs. Boo’s ball, when he had knocked that servant with all the delicacies over, leaving nonchalantly as if nothing happened, eating that cherry that had landed on the floor like it didn’t even happen. He was a genuine man, different from all those trying to court me just because I had money. Those men never tried to look past my wealth and beauty, they never actually cared about my thoughts and feelings. Not even Lieutenant Kim. But Mingi saw me,and wasn’t afraid to correct my mistakes, to enlighten me. He listened to me, he was curious about me, and he wanted me just the way I was. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, blinking away the tears that formed in my eyes, blaming it on the harsh sunlight. But my attention was quickly back on the pirates in the water as I heard my father’s desperate cries.

“My little daughter!” The third pirate was still far from reaching my father, but he was still waddling towards him without much struggle, “Oh, my precious Y/N! Are you alright?”

There was no answer, and I could see the worry on my father’s face as he grabbed the smaller chest he had by his leg, eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he had grown older these past days, and suddenly I felt sorry for him.

“Give us what we came here for, old man!” A pirate holding a sword demanded of my father as he finally reached closer to the shore, and I watched as he pushed the chest clumsily towards the pirate, before recoiling as the sword was now pointed at him, “Nobody knows about this, yes?”

“No, no!” My father quickly exclaimed, sounding desperate, making me pout as Mingi chuckled, “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone—I just want my daughter back!”

“Good.” The pirate chuckled, and started pulling the heavy looking chest further inside the water as the other pirate, who had been paddling just behind, reached him, helping him out with the chest. They both started returning to the boat, moving a lot slower due to the added weight. The third pirate looking like me was still not close enough, but my father could certainly see him better now.

“Oh, dear Lord, thank you for returning my daughter!” I heard him call out as he took a step towards the water, grimacing as his boots got soaked, “Come, Y/N, come, papa is here.”

“Your father is a hilarious man.” Mingi muttered as he watched my father with a snicker, making me throw a glare at him.

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s been very concerned, probably hadn’t slept in days.” I scrutinized him, making Mingi’s smile turn sheepish, “I feel bad for what I’m doing to him, but it’s time I take control of my own life.”

“You can still go back—”

“Mingi,” I snapped, eyes narrowing at the handsome pirate, “I’m starting to think you don’t want me anymore—”

“I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, Y/N.” Mingi’s words were rushed as his fingers tightened against mine, eyebrows furrowing.

“Good,” I smirked and yanked on our linked hands, making Mingi fall forward as the boat swayed dangerously with his movement, “Because you will never get rid of me now, love.”

“That was the plan, darling.” We chuckled at the same time before Mingi’s lips pressed firmly against mine, salty from the wind, but soft and warm. My eyes fluttered closed as I grabbed his nape, breathing him in, impatient to get back to the ship and learn of everything he had to offer me. But just as Mingi would’ve deepened the kiss, there was a startled shout coming from the shore, and we broke apart, turning to look towards my father. He looked shocked as the pirate had ripped the veil off his head and was laughing loudly, sticking his tongue out at my father before he turned around, and started swimming quickly back towards the boat. The other two pirates had reached us, and Mingi stood to help them place the chest inside the boat, watching as they got in the boat as well, waiting for their mate.

“What is the meaning of this?!” My father screamed at the top of his lungs as he ran inside the cold sea water, waggling his finger towards us, “Where is my daughter you filthy pirates?!”

“You really are his daughter.” Mingi chuckled as he cheered on the third pirate, motioning for him to swim faster, but the dress seemed to be rather constricting.

“Stop it.” I huffed as Mingi just flashed me a cheeky smile, completely amused as he watched my father trying to desperately move closer, but he was afraid of the water. He couldn’t swim, he’d never be able to reach the boat here. That’s the reason why we had stopped here, because I had told Mingi to stop here.

“Where’s my daughter?!” My father screamed again, slapping his hands angrily against the water, “When the Navy fleet finds you, you dirty pirates, you’ll be finished! Finished! You will all perish; you’ll be punished for what you’ve done to my daughter! I will watch your execution with my own eyes, you filthy pirates!”

“He’s not very creative with his words, I must note.” I slapped Mingi’s ass hard, making him yelp and jump, almost tipping the boat over as the other pirates yelped, holding onto the sides of the wooden construction.

“Stop being an asshat!” I snapped, standing up as the third pirate finally reached us, whining about how heavy the dress felt, and that he wanted it off himself. The other two helped him in, and Mingi sat down, the three pirates now starting to row, taking us back to the large ship, to the notorious pirate crew, called Ateez.

“Papa!” I screamed, heart breaking a little upon seeing the shocked and desperate look on my father’s face, “I am completely fine! Papa, they didn’t hurt me!”

“Y/N?!” I heard my father scream back desperately, looking lost.

“Papa, I want this! I want to stay with Mingi!” I screamed back, waving at him happily, “Papa, I’m finally happy! Mingi is going to take me on so many adventures! I promise I will write you letters, papa!”

“Come back here right now, Yoon Y/N!” I heard my father scream at the top of his lungs, now looking furious as the pirates rowed against the currents, taking me further away from my father. I just giggled, and waved some more.

“I promise to return sometime! Look forward to my letters!” I blew a big kiss, beaming towards my father, “Farewell, papa!”

And all he could do was watch me helplessly as I became smaller and smaller the closer we got to the big ship. From this point on, I dictated my own life. I did whatever I wanted to, I behaved however I wanted to, I lived however I wanted to, and loved whoever I wanted to. My eyes fell on Mingi, and he was looking up at me with a proud and warm glint in his eyes, smile dashing and beaming as I finally felt free.

I chuckled, and sat back down, cupping his cheeks as I pressed a kiss against his lips in gratitude as he nuzzled his nose against mine.

“Your adventure, Yoon Y/N, starts right now.”

A/N: I want to thank all of you who stuck through the stories with me, it means so much to me, you wouldn't even understand. Writing is a great passion of mine and I dedicate a huge part of my time to it, they are always little pieces of me as I love what I'm doing. I know this part is extremely long, and I feel slightly bad for it, but if you've reached the end and you're reading this, I just really want to thank you all for your continuous support and love shown through all of my stories, you have no idea how happy you all make me! Tbh, this story is one of my absolute favorite ones from the Black Ocean series, and I know our beloved Y/N here isn't the best at the beginning, but I promise she learns next to Mingi and becomes better in the future. I have planned a spin-off for San's part, no promises when I'll finally commit to it as I have to write my thesis as of now, but I say stay tuned for it if you enjoyed his part, I have zero intentions of romanticizing anything too much as his story is quite heavy.

I want to thank you all again for following through on this journey with me, I will always cherish it, their stories dear to me. I hope you enjoyed everyone's part and that my writing is enough for an enjoyable story, I know I still have a lot to learn to become even better. I'm just blabbering on right now LOL because I don't want this to end *CRIES* but every story comes to an end, and so here I shall close this chapter. I appreciate all and every one of you, thank you again for everything, and check out my masterlist if you'd like to read more of my stories! *kisses*

Masterlist

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Home for the First Time

It was early when there was a knock at the door of Wayne Manor, Bruce was still in his nightgown because even though it was nearly noon he’d been out late. He stayed back while Alfred opened the door, curious to see who it was and hoping he hadn’t forgotten he was supposed to meet with press or something today. But no, it was two children, nearly identical besides the fact one had blue eyes and the other green.

“Hello,” The blue eyed one greeted with a bright, charming smile, he had one arm out slightly, subtly shielding the green eyed boy who was hanging back a little, a serious look on his face and a stubborn set to his jaw. “My name is Danyal Al Ghul and this is my brother Damien. Perhaps Bruce remembers an ill advised dalliance with our mother Talia roughly 11 years ago? We are the result, and she says it’s time we meet our father and learn what we can from him.”

“Of course we’ll submit to a DNA test to prove our lineage,” The green eyes one, Damien, put in. Danial didn’t look at the boy as he nodded along.

Behind Alfred Bruce choked on his coffee and started to cough. Alfred was unflappable as always and simply nodded once. “I see, why don’t you two come through into the sitting room? The paternity test shouldn’t take long using our equipment, we’ll just need a bit of your hair,” Alfred said as he stood back and usured the kids in. Bruce deciding now would be a good time to disappear and compose himself before he had to meet these unexpected children.

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

Danyal was nervous and excited as they sat in the drawing room, cradling mugs of tea neither of them had drunk. Damien was probably suspicious of an attempted poisoning, but Danyal was just nervous! Not that he showed it, his hands didn’t shake and an impassive little smile stayed on his face as he observed every inch of the room. That was the difference between him and Dami really, Damien had been raised the heir to the Demon Head, Danny to the Bat and Wayne industries. They had gone through the same physical training of course but they had different behaviours ingrained in them.

Damien had been taught to repress all emotion and not show it at all where as Danny had been taught how to mimic them. Hide his true emotion and show the appropriate ones. A ‘press smile’ as they say, to charm and manipulate and give just the right half answers that truly gave nothing away. He excelled in science and technology which would be perfect for running Wayne Enterprises, so it mattered less that his reading skills flagged behind Dami’s a bit, or that he had been the weaker combatant.

Had been, until he had been struck by lightening and then revived by Lazarus. It had been a disappointment, but thankfully not something he could have been faulted for, an act of god to punish their grandfather for his avoidance of death and because even the gods feared who they would become. He remembered the strike, the unimaginable pain of it, and the aftermath as he lay on the ground, his heart stuttering and thumping to hard, then not, then fluttering, then not, then nothing as he had passed out.

He did not remember being dropped in the pit, but he did remember waking up within it. It burned through his veins, seeping in to the hand that had been struck holding his weapon, racing up along the fractals of energy, collecting the currents that still had him twitching uncontrollably and curling together into a hard ball in his chest. A wash of cold spread over him from his new centre, soothing the burn of the acrid, acidic pit. It made drifting there… comfortable.

He knew it shouldn’t have been, he had seen multiple people break the surface, gasping and screaming and clawing their way to shore, but it wasn’t for him. Then again Ra’s bathed in the pool, so maybe this was alright? It made him wonder about the people who never surfaced again, did they choose to stay because this was how it felt to them too? Drifting listlessly in comfortable… What? What was this feeling. Danny had turned and dove deeper into the pit, seeking answers as he always did, even when it wasn’t wise.

He didn’t know how long he swam before he could see the edges, the pool narrowing closer and closer till he could barely make it through, and then he found an exit. It was small, a porthole into a void of stars and doors. It was unlike anything he’d seen and he realised immediately it was calling to him, that was why he had dove. It wanted him to enter, it called it was where he belonged, it terrified him. When something far to large drifted by his little vantage point he fled back towards the surface, the life he knew, and the broken family he still loved.

He was a bit surprised to find that Damien and mother were still there but grandfather had already left. That was fair really, Danny didn’t know how long he had been down there, but his brother and mother are still there. It seemed Damien was being allowed a rare moment of weakness, on his knees by the edge of the pond, staring blankly into the water with their mother crouching next to him, rubbing his back though Damien’s eyes were still dry. They were… grieving him.

He burst through the surface of the glowing pool, gasping for air he scrambled up onto the bank, coughing up the disgusting liquid clogging his lungs. His ears were ringing and his sight narrowing to a green blur, completely unaware of what was going on around him until two hands, one the size of his own, and one larger land on his body. The smaller set held back his hair while larger rubbed his back, slowly sound returned and he heard his mother’s soft cooing and Damien’s panicked breath.

He gasped for breath and looked up at the two of them, the green retreating from his vision as he blinked rapidly. “Damien? Mother?” He had gasped seeing the relief overtake both of their faces that Lazarus hadn’t stolen his mind.

It hadn’t, in fact he was just as sharp as ever and had found that since then no one could detect him when he wanted to remain unseen, no door could stop him or keep him out. He was what any assassin dreamed to be, but it had also come with new awareness since he had been overhearing things no one would usually let him hear. He had heard the conversations Grandfather had with mother going back and forth about which of them should go to their father, since it was always meant to be Danyal but now with his new abilities he was clearly chosen by Lazarus so maybe he should be the true heir.

Danny known Grandfather was manipulative for as long as he could remember, not like Damien, who still had faith in the league and their grandfather. Damien was smart, and talented, he was suspicious enough for both of their physical safety, but he had a much harder time realizing when they were being manipulated, or when they were being used. That was alright, Danny could make up for this weakness as Damien had done for his unwillingness to kill. It had taken him a while of carefully planted seeds in both Grandfather’s ear and Mother’s to bring them around to the idea of both of them going to father.

Danyal didn’t know if father would be any better, but he would probably be easier to escape from then the league and maybe with some distance he would gain the courage to point out to Damien how it was wrong.

That was how life found them both sitting on their fathers couch, Danny’s tea long since having grown cold. He surfaced from his thoughts, seeing his eyes shimmering unnatural green in the reflection within the cup, as it usually did when he thought about his death.

He blinked it away in time to look up and see Bruce entering the room, he put his smile back on and stood, Damien following suit and looking sullen. They had agreed Danny would take the lead, but Damien still didn’t like it. “You must be Bruce, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Danyal said offering his hand to shake. Bruce blinked looking a little startled and shook his hand, Danny did his bast to give a good, firm handshake, hopefully his hands were too cold. “Mother always speaks highly of you, and even Grandfather admits there’s much we can learn from you,” He said, stepping back to let Damien shake Bruce’s hand as well.

“And anyone who can impress grandfather must be half a god,” Danny joked causing Damien to hiss and elbow his side as he usually did when he though Danny was speaking out of turn. Danny made a little oof sound and then gave Bruce a conspiratorial look, pleased to see he had made the stoic man crack a smile.

“It’s good to meet both of you as well, I’m sorry I didn’t know about either of you until today. The paternity test confirmed that you are my sons, Alfred is already setting up rooms for you next to each other in the family wing. In the mean time how would you feel about meeting a couple of your siblings? I believe Tim, Cass, and Stephanie are home at the moment? You’ve had a long trip, if you’d rather wait till tomorrow then I understand.”

“We’d love to meet them,” Danyal said, a little louder then usual to cover his brothers scoff. Damien scowled at Danyal who scowled back just as fiercely and tried to step on Damien’s foot, he knew the other boy would move out of the way before he could but it would make his point not to be disrespectful! It was clearer then clear that their father didn’t care much for blood given how much he loved all his adoptive children no matter what Grandfather thought. If Bruce wanted a biological heir he could have easily have gotten one, their blood might give them a slight advantage but they would have to prove their merits. But of course Damien believed everything Grandfather said still.

Damien dodged and then kicked back, Danyal rolling his eyes and dodging as well. Before a full fight could break out they both heard Bruce chuckle at them, Danyal gave the man a sheepish smile and while Damien blushed and looked down at the floor sulkily. “Alright, well then follow me. I’ll call Dick as well, I’m sure that when he finds out he has two new brothers to meet he’ll come running, I’m sure he’ll be here for dinner as well.”

“We’ve heard a lot about him too,” Danyal said with an impassive smile, they had to know about those who might be their competition after all. Danyal knew a bit more then Damien but they both knew what they needed to, like strengths and weaknesses. Danyal wondered if he was going to have to come to their adopted siblings defences, he fully expected Damien would try to assassinate them, whether or not it was actually wise to do so.

“Alright, then lets go see Tim first, he’s playing video games in his room. Steph and Cass are in the studio together,” Bruce said as he ushered Danny and Damien out of the sitting room and up a set of back stairs into the family wing of the manner. Danny and Damien following, having a silent argument of signs and dodgable blows about how exactly they should be handling this. What finally ended the argument was Danny flashing fang, his eyes glowing green and baring his teeth at Damien. Both to remind Damien of his true strength and to show how important this was to him, which made Damien relent for now he wasn’t sure.

Either way they had sorted it out by the time Bruce opened the door. “Tim, how do you feel about two new brothers?” Bruce said almost sheepishly and Tim groaned, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair.

“Damn Bruce where did you find these two?” He asked giving his adopted father a tired glare.

“On his doorstep,” Danny said promptly.

“We’re his biological sons,” Damien said at almost the same time, then glared at Danny who shrugged, both were true.

“Damn really?” Tim asked as he finally got up, examining both of them.

“We already did the paternity test,” Damien said with what Danny would call an unwarranted amount of pride.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Danyal. You can call me Danny if you want,” Danny said, stepping forward and offering Tim a handshake and his best smile. Tim blinked and shook his hand. “I’ve never played a video game, they didn’t allow such frivolities in the compound. They look like fun though, perhaps you could teach me?”

“Uh sure, sounds fun. What about you? You want to learn other little bro?” Tim asked looking to Damien.

“Why would I want to learn a skill with no practical use,” Damien scoffed. “My name is Damien, and I do not approve of nicknames,” He said, giving Danny a haughty look as he shook Tim’s hand. Danny just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say little D,” Tim scoffed. Damien gave an indignant squawk and before he could go for a weapon Danny grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Bruce said, grabbing a knife Danny had missed Damien drawing and twisting it out of Damien’s grip as Danny got his brother in a headlock.

“Sorry about him, the League of Shadows doesn’t care much for social graces, I barely escaped being just as feral as him,” Danny joked before letting out an oof as Damien elbowed him in the side and escaped his hold.

“Eh it’s not the first time a brother has tried to kill me. I can look after myself,” Tim said, which was clearly a warning to Damien judging by the look. Danny knew that Tim could, but also knew he was still underestimating them, and he hoped that wouldn’t bite him before he figured it out. “Let me know if you change your mind, I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do with tech and media, I’ll be happy to be your guide.”

“Tt,” Damien scoffed and stomped out of the room.

“Well I’m looking forward to learning about all of that, I think it’ll be fun! Ignore him, he’ll come around. Just, uhh, watch him, That won’t be the last time he tries to stab you. If anything it’s a bonding activity for him,” Danny joked as lightly as he could before hurrying after his twin, Bruce on his heels.

Part 2: here

[yoredoesmore]

hallooo,it's me again:)) may I request soshiro x reader forced marriage angst but happy ending

I hope I'm not bothering you:). it's ok if you don't want to make it

a/n: i could never say no to such a beautiful request! i love writing angst muahaha

pairing: hoshina soshiro x blind!reader

cw: forced marriage, physical and emotional abuse

genre: angst/ hurt comfort/romance/fluff [wc: 2,9k ]

a/n: this story takes place in the meiji era!

a/n: i am so upset the fic idea in my head was so cute but now that im proof reading its ass 😭 i am so not satisfied with this but maybe a part two will safe it idk rip 😭 and i have to post something can't have u guys go to bed/work/whatever unfed 😔

edited a/n: is this even forced marriage omg 😭🐵

still, enjoy!

A Vision of Love | Hoshina Soshiro

The world around you had long lost its colors. Your vision was plagued, cursed to pick up the world in vibrations and tones instead of images.

The gods have plotted against your existence long before you had been born, cursing the path you were destined to walk on with failure and hardship.

“You are no child of mine!”

The feeling of your father's hand was imprinted in both your memories and mind. A gruesome sensation, one that had no problems seeking you unannounced. On some days the beast would simply barge into your chambers, striking you to his heart's content.

And for what? All for being unable to carry out his legacy.

“Blind and weak, we should have killed you the second we saw those impurities!”

No day passed by when he wasn't cursing your existence but you had been all too used to it..

You sat kneeled on the engawa of your estate, scrubbing the long corridor facing the entrance. It was one of the many tasks given to you which had to be completed by noon. Pearls of sweat accumulated on your forehead, dripping down the side of your face and staining the cloth of your clothes but that told you that you were almost done.

You heard voices chatting in the distance. Some belonging to your family members and others to the Kaseifu, yet you were able to make out three voices foreign to your ears.

“Please come this way.”

Your father greeted the guests with fake hospitality. It irked you immensely, listening to him put up an act of dishonesty but there was nothing you could have done about it.

As soon as you finished up your work, you brought away the cloth and the rag and hurried back to your room using the back entrance. No using the main entrance when guests are around– another strict rule you had to follow.

They stopped bothering you a long time ago, the harsh rules and strict regulations forced upon you by your family. It was unfortunately not just your father who harassed you but also your mother and siblings– though their approaches of breaking your spirit were more subtle. They whispered and gossiped, calling you all kinds of names to lower your spirit.

All to make themselves feel better.

Your family was a renown clan known for its fighting skills and birthing people of strong flesh. In the world of Kaiju slayers, your family stood on top with another handful of carefully selected clans. But as dysfunctional as you were, ripped of your vision at birth and your laughable body, there was no place for you in the limelight. Thus you had been hidden away in the back of your clan, mixed with the maids and housekeepers to keep the knowledge about your existence to a minimum.

But all that was about to change.

“Lady Y/n.”

The voice of Madam Kiyoko called out for you, the only woman to treat you with kindness in this place.

“Yes, Madam Kiyoko?”

The woman's voice was gentle and sweet, like honey and milk. It calmed your heart and made you feel loved in a way you were unable to experience anywhere else. But this time something lingered in her voice? A hint of grief? Frustration? Even without seeing her face, you somehow knew that the woman was not displaying a smile on her lips.

“I was sent by your father. ..You are to pack your things immediately and prepare yourself for permanent departure..”

“Permanent..excuse me?” The tone in Kiyoko's voice painted your ears, so much that you wished to cover them and hide away.

“Your father has..given you away to another family, therefore I wish to congratulate you on your engagement.” The fabrics of Kiyoko's Kimono shifted, hinting to you that she had gone down to her knees.

There was no word that could properly describe the look of horror on your face. Pain, disgust and vexation– all these emotions tugged on your heart, forcing it to fall into unbearable agony. You suddenly felt all strength leaving your legs, forcing you to fall to the ground.

Hot tears ran down your face as you allowed muffled cries to escape your mouth. You wanted to scream and curse, run over to your father and rip all air from his lungs..

But you of all people knew too well that this day would have come sooner or later.

How else were you going to get engaged? You, who was unable to leave her house without supervision. You, who was seen as garbage in her own home. This was long overdue.

“Lady Y,n..we mustn't waste any time.” Madam Kiyoko spoke, her arms wrapping around yours to lift you back up.

“No..I don't want to, they can't do this!” Although living here was torture, it was the only home you have ever know. A small part of you always hoped to just die here. Life was cruel but at least there was food and a bed waiting for you at the end of each day. There was no telling how the people outside these gates were going to treat a blind woman like you, especially a family selected by your father. The unknown was much more intimidating than the familiar horrors.

“Child, I beg of you to grasp your heart and look at the future with confidence.” The woman tried to encourage you to take the situation with pride. But you couldn't. The fact that someone had accepted you as a wife could only mean that they were worse off than you. Who else would accept such worthless and weak soul into their family? Or perhaps they were like your family, looking forward to abuse and make use of you.

“You musn't refuse your duty as a woman, Lady Y/n, as a daughter of this house. I beg you.” Madam Kiyoko pulled you back up and dusted your Kimono.

“I know that this treatment is unjust and sudden, but anywhere in this world is better than here.”

“But I don't mind the horror! The pain and the humiliation..because I have you..”

Once again the tone in the woman's voice tugged on your heartstrings. The truth in her statement tasted bitter on your tongue. You did not wish to admit that she was right, that living here was a hell your body couldn't bear much longer.

Madam Kiyoko walked you to your chambers and helped you pack your belongings. There wasn't much, only a few essentials which you held dear. As you were preparing for your departure, you heard a soft chuckle from behind you.

“I heard that the Hoshina clan is as good as useless in this modern day and age, since the Kaiju have grown in size.” One of your sisters snickered from behind you.

“Yeah, and that their sons are as incapable as they come.” Your brother mocked.

Their voices were mere background sounds, easy to blend out. Your fingers traced themselves over the silver hairpin in your hand, a gift from the Madam.

“I will forget all about you once I leave this home. The memories, your voices and your scent. What a blessing it ends up being to be born blind, as I have no faces which I will have to wipe from my memories.” Your words stung your siblings in the guts. One of them stepped forward, your brother, ready to strike you down. But madam Kiyoko quickly extended her hand to shield your body from the abuse.

“Do not dare touch the Lady. She is an engaged woman now and therefore no longer under the rule of this household. Striking her would mean raising your hands against the Hoshina clan and I highly suggest that you do not make yourself an enemy of them.”

“She won't survive a week outside these gates. Compared to the people outside, our treatment was merciful. In this day and age there is no space for those who cannot protect themselves, tsk.” Your brother gave you one last glare before he and your sister left your room.

“This family can no longer harm you, child. So look at your future and smile, don't listen to his nonsense.” The warm hands of the woman embrace you in a comforting hug. If only you could take her with you and start your new life together..it was a hopeless wish but one you hung onto regardless

x

Nobody came to send you off besides Lady Kiyoko. With your bag packed and your heart set to leave, you approached the front gate. You refused to look back as you walked into your new life, each step feeling foreign and intimidating.

You were raised in a traditional household. From the building to the rules it reminded you of the old times. Therefore standing in front of the public transport with no navigation or sense of familiarity deeply frightened you. You could feel them all watching, the people on the train. Surely they were judging your lack of vision and pitying your weak form.

It took you quite some time to arrive at the destination, the lack of any known directions making the journey much more treacherous. But after two hours, you finally arrived at the Houshina estate. If it had been for the old couple you met at your station who guided you all the way here you would have been lost for sure.

“That is just the path we wanted to take!”

They said and took you by the hand. It felt strange, putting your trust into two unknown strangers. For a good minute you believed that they were leading you to a nearby cliff, for whatever reason. But your doubt slowly vanished as they began to talk about their day and all the errands which they had to run.

You took a deep breath and fixed your Kimono before knocking at the gate. There was no guarantee that anybody was going to hear you but this was the only way you knew how to make yourself known.

After around five minutes and almost giving up hope, you heard a shift in motion. The gate opened and before you stood a stranger. They didn't say anything and simply looked you up and down you assumed. Then they spoke up.

“Oh, it's you.”

What an interesting dialect..

Unsure of who was standing before you, you went down on your knees to show your respects.

“My name is L/n Y/n and I am the betrothed of Hoshina Soshiro. It is my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

“There is no need to be so formal, please. And get up, ya Kimono is getting all dirty.” A pair of strong hands suddenly placed themselves on your shoulders and helped you find your way back up.

A scent so sweet was attached to the stranger, one that had a strange note to it. Yet you stayed focused and continued the conversation.

“Did you come here all by yourself??” The stranger sounded almost appalled.

“Yes..is there a problem with that?”

“Your family reassured us that they were going to send someone with you, since you are..”

His eyes locked with yours. Light gray orbs sat in your sockets, robbed of all light. Yet there was a glimmer inside them, one that shone brighter than the sun itself.

“Excuse me for asking, but who am I speaking to?”

“I am just a housekeeper. Anyway, let's get ya inside and perhaps, you must have a long journey behind you.”

“Thank you very much.” The housekeeper took your hands in his, a soft warmth spreading over your entire body. His bold action startled you slightly but you did not allow your discomfort to display on your face.

“Not having an official wedding must be quite frustrating I believe?”

Is this..smalltalk?

“I never clung to the desire of partaking in such festivity. I was told from a very young age that I wasn't deserving of a wedding, let alone marriage. My father eventually giving me away to a family with no future was to be expected.”

“A family with no future?”

“Oh my, I didn't mean it like that! I apologize for insulting your masters..”

“No offense taken. I understand what ya were trying to say.” The soft sliding of wooden doors indicated to you that you were now entering the building. Almost immediately you were greeted by the sweet scent of lavender and tangerines, two odors that completed one another perfectly.

The housekeeper continued to guide you through the building, holding on to your hand so tight you feared he was going to melt into you. Yet despite his grip being so fierce, his touch was gentle and almost protective. You were not used to such kindness, therefore you found it difficult to express your gratitude once he let go when you arrived in the space which you believed was your room.

“When will the rest of your belongings arrive?” The housekeeper asked while taking the bag from your hands. Your silence said all he needed to know.

“If you need anything, don't hesitate to–”

“Young Master? A letter has arrived from the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force, requesting your presence. Oh and has the young woman arrived already? We heard the gates–”

..Master?

Your head turned to meet the voice at the door. A young woman, you assumed, stood at the entrance of your room, her words and turn indicating that she was talking to the housekeeper.

“Oh, she is already here?? Why wasn't your father notified!” The woman scolded.

“Thank you Ayame, I will see to the letter shortly. And I wanted some alone time with her first, I'm sure my father will understand."

All the woman did was sigh, as if she was too used to his behavior and excused herself from the room.

It didn't even take you five seconds to realize what was going on. Your face froze up upon realizing, a soft gasp leaving from your lips.

“I..apologize for deceiving you.” Soshiro sighed. “I didn't know how to properly introduce myself when I saw you back then and just went with the moment.”

Embarrassed? Shame? Anxiety? You did not know what to feel first. The words you spoke only minutes ago suddenly came back to hit you like whiplash. You just told your soon to be husband that you had no faith in his family, to his face, the gods were probably laughing at you right now. Not just them, but also your siblings and parents.

Their voices rang through your ears, eating at your consciousness. Not even a day had passed and you already managed to screw up, what a twisted joke this was.

“Ya ain't upset with me, right?”

All thoughts suddenly started to disappear into thin air as his fingers once again wrapped themselves around your hands. Only now did you realize how soft they were, like sunflower petals. And the distant scent of vanilla that lingered on his skin, it was soothing in a way you could not describe.

In an instant you found yourself calming down and remembered that you were no longer in that household. Five minutes have been spent in this foreign place so far, yet it felt much more comforting than your old home. Why was that?

“Saying that your family has no future when I am the one who lacks the ability to function properly..I am so very sorry..”

“Don't tell me yer apologizing for being blind?” Soshiro placed one of his hands on your head, gently caressing your hair with his fingers.

“I don't know much about ya or what you went through before. All I was told is that your family did not think highly of ya and therefore signed you away to the next available family. But just by looking at ya I can tell that you are much more valuable than ya think.” And with that said, Soshiro gave your head a light squeeze.

These gentle touches were so new to you. Being embraced in such a loving way and taken by the hand as if you were too important to lose– and not to mention by a man you just met..it all felt quite unreal.

Soshiro suddenly started to move away from you, the lack of his warmth mildly bothering your conscience, but he had somewhere important to be.

“We shall converse more once I return from my appointment, most likely together with my father. The others will want to meet you so prepare yourself for that. If they barge into your room feel free to send them away”

���Send them away? I could never do that” Hosanna laughed although you didn't say anything funny?

“Im looking forward to future interactions.”

“I..me too.”

To have something to look forward to..did you ever have that in your life? The feelings in your heart were difficult to describe. Was it truly possible for you to find happiness in a place full of strangers and foreign emotions? To seek comfort in the arms of a man you barely even knew? As Soshiro walked out of your room, you quickly searched for the hair pin that Madam Kiyoko had gifted to you. Your fingers embraced it tight, trying to recreate the warmth which you felt moments ago.

Something deep down in your heart wanted to trust his words and believe that you too could experience true happiness in this lifetime. Therefore you desperately held onto this vision of love, in hopes that one day your future would be painted in its beautiful colors.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[see-arcane]

Before the journal opened

Before it saved his life

Before Hell staked a claim

Before he swung his knife

A storm rolled in with the spring

And hope paved his long way

Through monsters and their red wants

He takes step one today.

WARNING: Contains some grisly imagery towards the end.

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Chapter 2 Preview is available here

Chapter 3 via Substack here

Harker

C.R. Kane

March to April

Spring rolled in more grey than green that week. It dribbled rain through morning and noon, pondering to itself whether it would save an encore for evening in the way of a proper storm. The songbirds and the street noise went on as best they could between showers. They made up the only true din in Jonathan Harker’s corner, not counting the hammering of the typewriter or an occasional rustle of sheets. The usual low cacophony of the firm had been whittled down immensely due to the cough that had been shared at the start of the week and sent the greater part of Peter Hawkins’ small legion home to hack and sniffle in private.

This left Jonathan somewhat abandoned, not counting Hawkins’ presence behind the office door. It was just as well. He’d been splitting his attention between the eternal tower of logistical and legal chores that ruled his desk and the shorthand notes made in preparation for his exam. Such had been his constant state for the past two months. There had been ribbing from all directions, some bemoaning the imminent loss of a load-bearing clerk, others saying now they could draw lots and boot someone else out the door, and still more wheedling about whether or not they could still drag him in place as a shield when clientele of a certain incendiary temperament came around. Please?

Jonathan had remained ominously mum. Groans and lamentations ensued.

This was a joke, of course. Young Mr. Harker was nothing if not dedicated to the task of transmuting Hawkins’ charity to a whipcord child fifteen years prior into a proper investment. Case in point, using a lull in his own workload to get things in order for those bedridden solicitors who had the nearest deadlines pending. Bentley idled through with his tea as he did and shook his head.

“Don’t know what it is that comes with your kind, Harker, but it’s a busier thing that any of us idle English have. We’re down two thirds of the building and here you are doing three-quarters of the work. Get the examination out of the way and you may as well tell the old man to retire.” A thoughtful sip came from behind the porcelain. “Must be something they teach you Gurkha sorts, eh? Some kind of discipline our doughy little English schoolboys never get knocked in their heads.”

Jonathan weighed the decision of whether or not to give Arnold Bentley his bimonthly reminder that he was, in fact, English by birth. His parents as well. But the reminder would likely fall into the same pit between the man’s ears where all the others had gone. Worse, it might risk a tally mark against him in whatever invisible score was kept by peers. The one that determined whether the combination of Jonathan’s physiognomy and disposition really were enough to pardon his status or not. He finished this measuring of scales in less than a blink. A smile was summoned.

“Not at all. Just helping where things can be helped.” He straightened a sheaf of forms back in order. “That, and I cannot go a day without productivity, or else I shall have to go home and carve my hand with the kukri knife in penance.”

Bentley paused halfway through his laugh when Jonathan held his gaze. He gawped over his cup.

“God. Really?”

“No, not really. My penmanship would suffer terribly.”

This spurred a louder guffaw from the man, likewise a rattling clap of his open palm to Jonathan’s shoulder. Then he was out like a breeze to carry on with whatever it was he had drifted from in his own territory of the building. Jonathan resumed his interrupted rhythm. Read. Check. Write. Type. Read. Check. Write. Type. So he went for another hour before his watch told him it was time to check the post.

He stepped out during a lull of rain. The thunder talked with itself in the slate-dark clouds, debating whether or not to turn the spigot on the moment the wad of envelopes was out in the open. Jonathan applauded himself on dodging the first drops of the deluge by seconds. Peeking through the window, he saw there were even a few fitful winks of lightning hopping through the sky. What few pedestrians were left went running for shops they had no interest in, restaurants they had no appetites for, and cabs that turned frustratingly scarce within the minute. Jonathan grimaced in premonition of the dash he and Mina would have to make under the umbrella once she was free of her students.

But that was for later. For now, he flipped through the day’s heap and dealt them out to the waiting desks, occupied or not. The last in the stack was a familiar packet and one of extraordinary make. It was patterned with the stamps of myriad countries with ornate flourishes in the writing. A thick crimson seal sporting a rearing dragon marked it as the second delivery from the same foreign estate that had written to Hawkins in February. A castle set in the backdrop of the Carpathians.

Jonathan had felt his heart twist the first time he’d handled a parcel from the address and it twisted doubly hard now. There had been time in the interim to start combing through Exeter’s libraries for any beginning details to have ready should Hawkins want some background to aid one of the solicitors, especially in the case of a potential trip. If the latter came to pass, it would mean a visit to London and a perusal of denser material. A fine enough excuse to wander the superior bookcases and the British Museum on its own. But the luster of the errand was already gone in his mind. The first glimpse of the prospective client’s territory in the first book he’d cracked open, wrought in illustrations and sparse photographs as it was, sent a spear of longing through Jonathan’s chest that still hadn’t left.

Why would anyone living there want to trade such a place for England?

Jonathan was not oblivious to the advantages of the country. He understood his good fortune in access to modern works, from amenities to entertainments; at least in theory. With cautious budgeting. But all his life had been spent in cramped rooms or congested streets. The presence of a park, a farmer’s field, a distant beach, or a picturesque cemetery were the nearest he would ever come to the broad and chainless beauty of places not yet stomped flat with bricks and smoke.

Imagine! Meadows and hills, valleys and forests, all topped with the great serrated crown of the mountains. Cities and villages worn smooth with generations going back through centuries.

Imagine being there with her. Seeing sunrise flood over the peaks, walking old roads and footpaths, tasting and seeing and playing and breathing in a place without its laces drawn like a noose around throat and purse. The trains alone would be enough for her, true, but we would find somewhere to stop. Somewhere in every swatch of the countryside. At some point, as she became lost in a view, in a meal, in a walk, she would see me on my knee and what I held in my hand, and the wedding could happen right there in an ancient chapel, and then…

But the fantasy turned to dust before it could finish.

The required funds were cudgel enough to smash the whole daydream to atoms. At most they might manage a trip someplace other than their usual heights of hedonism. That was, a brief trip to Piccadilly and back. Maybe a bit of theatre. Possibly a picnic. Perhaps even some further place in the Isles. Somewhere rich with quiet and history of its own, but likely not across the Channel. Never a locale so far and mythic as the place Hawkins’ new client seemed interested in abandoning. Jonathan pictured Hawkins writing back to the noble on his behalf, wailing at the stranger not to forsake his fairy tale castle for the doldrums of a Londoner’s garish crate of a manse, no matter how crusted in filigree.

Save yourself! Do not trade your mountains for an English molehill!  Turn back, turn back!

But that would be a poor way to run the firm, wouldn’t it? Resigned, he brought the packet to Hawkins’ office and knocked at the door.

“It’s open, Jonathan.”

Jonathan ducked in with his smile already nailed in place. It was an expression he now had to work at as recent months plodded on and Peter Hawkins’ complexion failed to improve. The man behind the broad desk was only half as rubicund as he’d been the year before. He had insisted to everyone who dared ask that he was merely suffering from a particularly ugly attack of gout and that he would be fine in a week or so. As it stood, Hawkins could still sit up straight and bellow thanks when Jonathan came by with his delivery. He even turned a shade ruddier upon seeing the dragon’s seal.

“Well now,” he said through a grin. He turned the packet over and pointed it at Jonathan. “Have you taken lunch?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Go on and fill up quick. If this is what I believe it is, I expect I’ll need your ear within the hour.”

So saying, Hawkins slit the packet open and began to read. Jonathan dismissed himself with his fingers crossed in his pocket. Perhaps the British Museum wasn’t too far off after all. That and the London libraries. It would be too brief a visit for anything more extravagant than what Lucy referred to as his and Mina’s ‘academic holidays,’ but it would make an interesting exercise just the same. Plotting the trip was a pleasant enough distraction to eat to.

He finished just as he heard the tell-tale grunt and shuffle that meant Hawkins was hefting himself up to trudge around his desk. Jonathan flew to the door first, only just recalling to swat his knuckles against the wood before opening it. Hawkins looked up with a shock before gratefully flopping himself back into his chair.

“You have a dog’s hearing and cat’s feet. Ought to have a bell on you to give an old man some warning.”

“Apologies.”

“Nothing to apologize for. Saved me dragging myself around unduly.” Hawkins thumped a hand on the desk as if patting a horse. “I suppose I need to throw this out and trade desks with you. I can make it past that little square of yours in no time.” He thought further on it. “Less than a minute, anyhow.” He made a face that couldn’t decide itself between a smile or a grimace. “My doctor, who only seems to tell me what I already know, declares that I am not fit for any arduous travel. In his terms, that includes going further than the street corner on foot. Even a train ride is apparently a gamble, being that I should be in bed resting and rotting like a good patient rather than hobbling my way to and from the cab to work. Already I press his orders and my luck. Which means this,” he held up an envelope, “is out of the question for me.”

Jonathan recognized the torn envelope and scarlet seal. What held him up was the recognition that it was the first of the two packets. The February delivery.

“That’s unfortunate. Who was the client?”

Hawkins grinned in earnest now, purposefully turning the envelope so that the address was hidden.

“You tell me.”

Jonathan offered half a smile back. It was an old game that had begun years ago when he was still just a bookish boy underfoot, helping around the office for whatever could be spared for a child’s wage. Even then his eyes had been hungry things.

“Count Dracula, from the castle of the same name, of Transylvania. The address is from a Bistritz postal service situated in the Carpathians.”

“True and true.” Hawkins set the envelope on the desk and tapped it with a thick finger. “Curious taste in property, this one. Likely has the cravings of a renovator. No trouble on our side but for the hunting. But the esteemed gentleman is so damnably far into the Continent that I couldn’t rightly offer myself up in the way he’s asking. I ought to say, the way he insists upon buying. The way our Count puts it, he would rather pay every fee of travel for his English solicitor to and from his keep in the mountains, and play host on top, rather than, he says, ‘Suffer bartering land through stationery.’ In short, he’s willing to ship a solicitor to his door rather than play at this back-and-forth for all his questions, all out of his own pocket. He wants someone who’s not just going to find and sell the manner of place he’s after, but someone who can play encyclopedia if he’s unsure of something.” 

“Hence him being prepared to rent out the owner of the firm for an in-person visit,” Jonathan finished. Hawkins gave a nod.

“And the owner might have been up for it a decade or so ago. But time marches and gout outweighs gold. So I fear that leaves me out of the picture.” Jonathan watched Hawkins fold his hands with a calculated laxness on the desk. “Your examination is coming up.”

Lightning flickered outside. More danced across Jonathan’s brain.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“You have been my clerk since you were old enough to rent a flat,” Hawkins went on. “My apprentice and professional living plaster to this place well before that.”

“Yes,” Jonathan breathed more than spoke. He feared his vocabulary was leaking out both ears while his heart tried to climb his throat.

“And,” Hawkins half-leaned over the desk, “you have been holding onto her ring since last year. Haven’t you?”

Heat rushed up to Jonathan’s face as he got out, “…Yes. I have. Sir, are you—,”

Hawkins brandished the packet Jonathan brought through the door an hour ago. This he laid beside the February envelope so that the pair of them seemed like strange square eyes staring up at him.

“I need you to understand: This is not an offer as much as a prayer. If there’s no chance with you, that means Bentley is the next choice. He’s my longest running man here and is liable to set up his own firm before the decade’s out. But for all that, and for all that he is a trustworthy one to patter with most Englishmen, I would sooner trust a cat with a lame canary than Bentley to not choke on his own tongue with a foreigner. Clients of noble lineage included. The man can barely toe his way around an Irishman let alone anyone from across the Channel. And, since the door is shut and no one is around to cry nepotism, I can speak the unvarnished truth.

“You could do with one week what anyone else here could manage inside a month and have it done better. That is not me being rosy about the past or present, that is me having eyes that work and a basis of comparison between how things ran before you began working here and after. The after is smooth as silk compared to the pre-Harker gravel. Stable gravel, I allow, but not nearly as easy a burden as things became once you were attacking the paperwork. And the footwork.” Hawkins raised a caterpillar brow at him. “Any good finds in the local bookshelves?”

“Not as many as I hoped,” Jonathan thought he heard himself say. It was hard to tell as he seemed to have relocated to some remote island in his skull and could only register what was happening as if from across an ocean. “I wanted to stop by the options in London if I had the chance. Just to gather some background on the client’s location if it was needed.”

“I’d say it is,” Hawkins hummed. “Supposing you can tell me you have your schedule open for some traveling come May.”

Jonathan told him it was. Hawkins told him to go to the corner cabinet and move the bust of Alexander off the high shelf. Then to bring down the bottle and two tumblers. There were toasts and there was talk and there was a laughing chide from the older man as he shooed Jonathan’s pocket notebook back from whence it came. No notes today, young man. At least not right now. Actually, perhaps one for later. Did he have time open to visit a tailor? There was a travel budget that was about to go unused if the Count was to have his way. It may as well go toward a good cause. Hawkins could hardly send his best solicitor to a noble’s door without looking his best, and it was for the firm’s image, really, so it could hardly be helped, and the doctor couldn’t grudge him such paltry exercise as going to harangue a suit seller…

Jonathan’s eyes burned and his face ached with smiling. He was mortified to find himself close to a sob before turning the sound into a coughing laugh. Hawkins told him to drink, not inhale. That turned the next sound into a true chuckle. He couldn’t tell whether it was an effect of the liquor or his own imagination that made it seem as if the thunder was laughing too.

“Transylvania,” Mina said for the dozenth time.

“Transylvania,” Jonathan echoed. He turned to face her rather than cling to the charade that either of them were focused enough to continue their mutual study. His pile included the texts that had come to haunt his subconscious with its rules and rites of property law, now with the hypnotic temptation of the library books waiting just an arm’s length away. Mina, who Jonathan knew was as much or more a pillar of solid focus than himself, had not a mote of attention to spare for the papers taken from the realm of educational etiquette or her personal project of mirroring and translating his shorthand. The latter made a certain gleeful anticipation turn over in his stomach. It left him floundering between elation and anxiety with equal force until he thought he might lose his last meal on the floorboards.

Which would be a shame, as he and Mina had combined their efforts into a delightful result in Jonathan’s narrow kitchen. Jonathan had only half-jokingly implied that they were making a child’s ideal feast because he was, in fact, giddy as a boy who’d just shaken hands with Father Christmas. Mina had declared this was nonsense.

“A supper made of breakfast is an entirely sound culinary decision.”

“Yes, Miss Murray,” in his best schoolboy tone. “Did you want crêpes or toast?”

“Crêpes. Extra cream.”

They had giggled like children over their respective plates. Just as they did over the rapidly ignored chores they had planned for themselves after. It was the frightful intoxication of feeling the future unrolling into a new smiling mystery before them. One that whispered, yes, yes, this is real, this is coming true. A future that might include…

Jonathan gulped down a heavy lump of air as his gaze flicked again to the sheet of shorthand messages he had scribbled out for her to translate. She had stopped halfway through. Close, close, close. But he didn’t let his stare linger. Instead he found her face again, still glowing. Jonathan was forever surprised that he had not dreamt her up as a boy and continued dreaming her until now. It surprised him more that he had managed to earn her love and dumbfounded him entirely to think that she regarded herself in the same terms. More, that she insisted she was the luckier half of their equation. He did not follow her meaning then, nor did he think he ever would.

“Mina, anyone with a sliver of sense in their head would feel the same for you,” he had insisted more than once. Each time she had smiled and shaken her head. Her eyes forever bright with a sweet-somber knowledge he couldn’t decipher.

“There is plenty of sense to spare. Loving hearts as well. But there is a different lens that women see the world through and it shows things men shall never have to see. It shows so much to watch for. To be wary of, or to hope for, or to know not to expect because life has made it clear that so much of what’s dreamt of only exists for a few, while the rest make do with storybooks and stage plays.” Her hand had held tight in his. “You were not meant to exist outside the borders of a fairy tale, Jonathan Harker. That you cannot see as much for yourself makes me wonder if someone really did peel you off a page and if you will vanish back to a fair princess somewhere when I wake up.”

“That implies I am either a prince or some clever farmhand. I’m cut out for neither. I am a squire at best. Though I would not settle for a mere princess either way, however fair.” He had dared a grin at her. “Or have you already forgotten Mrs. Westenra’s unique stance on the matter?”

Memory had nettled Mina out of her glumness with a sputter that tried and failed not to turn into shamefaced laughter. She had improved somewhat in the years since the incident itself, back when the whole ring of persons involved had flamed with embarrassment over the misunderstanding of Jonathan’s presence when spotted with Miss Lucille Westenra and her companion Miss Mina Murray now that all of them had stretched out of childhood and into the far end of adolescence. Followed by the ensuing inquiry as to why Mr. Harker had been baffled at the very concept of seeking to gain Miss Westenra’s affection as anything more than a friend.

Jonathan remembered sitting in one of the gilded rooms of the Westenra estate, sat across from Lucy’s increasingly rose-faced mother as she came to the belated realization that Mina Murray’s young man was not trying to court anyone other than Mina Murray. Worse, it had been left on his shoulders to steer the conversation out of potential wreckage by thanking his hostess for clearly being concerned on Mina’s own behalf, as there were too many people in the world who took the notion of seeking out a secret paramour behind another’s back as a matter of course. He was heartened to know that Mrs. Westenra cared enough to be mindful should an actual cad come into the orbit of her daughter or her friends.

Still flushed, Mrs. Westenra had chased agreement in this, poured on apologies for the mistake and had thankfully never brushed the topic since. Though Lucy had words enough to spare on the matter for months afterward. She had languished at them in the garden about it, the image of woe in peach blossom tailoring.

“Jonathan, I fear we must become enemies,” she’d intoned gravely. “You must walk with a cane in hand and I must brandish my parasol so that we keep our distance and never risk breathing the same air. We cannot even deafen poor Mina’s ears with the Bard or eavesdroppers will take us knowing the lines of Hamlet and Ophelia as proof of a tryst. Perhaps we should go around with our hats pulled down over our eyes, lest we give into temptation and acknowledge each other’s existence while being the opposite sex. It is our only chance of salvation.”

“Miss Lindon again?” from Mina, her smile placid. Jonathan knew she wore the same callused shell he did when it came to the patter that trickled down from higher tiers than theirs. Those tiers were many and their squabbles almost alien in what they deemed worth sniping about behind their fans and cigars. The infamous Miss Lindon was apparently a thorn too serrated even for Lucy’s compassion to withstand.

“Very much Miss Lindon again. ‘He would just do for you, Lucy.’ As though she thought I would be doing a charity by going behind my friend’s back and she were doing a charity by her sneering compliment. At least nature was kind enough to spare me having to think of a similarly charitable rebuttal, as a beetle helpfully flew into her hair a moment later and she went running. One must take silver linings when they come. Unrelatedly, Jonathan, when you do become a solicitor in full, should Miss Lindon and her future beau ever approach you for a house..?”

“I shall do what I can to find them a lovely estate,” Jonathan assured. “In Northumberland.”

“Next door to an entomologist?” Mina asked over her cup.

“Of course.”

Jonathan blinked the recollection away, wondering whether it was the dizziness of the day or the ticking of the clock between Mina and the final line of shorthand that was making his mind slosh. Perhaps it was simply the subconscious’ effort to dodge the weight of the evening and what it might promise. His thoughts were fleeing to hide from hope and worry. But Mina knew him too well. She caught him with her eyes before pulling him back into the headiness of the present.

“You will do fantastically, Jonathan. Tell me you know it as well as I do.”

“I will not say I know it. Too much confidence risks laziness. I will only say that I shall give all of myself to the task. It must be done so it will be done. If I think any further than that simple fact, my head will burst.”

“If you do, I promise to sweep you up and put your pieces back in order.” Her smile softened an increment as her hand settled in his. “I mean it.” She squeezed. He squeezed back.

“The same goes for you. We are neither of us allowed to hold ourselves together with string and brittle smiles once the door is between us and,” Jonathan flapped his free hand at the rain-streaked window, “all of that. No acting when it’s us alone.” He flashed her a decidedly less-than-brittle smile. “I promise not to tattle to your girls.”

“You were bad enough today, Mr. Harker. Half the classes were watching.” Her voice tutted, but the grin showed in her eyes. Jonathan had arrived at the school with the umbrella in one hand and a bouquet in the other. A bundle of her beloved lilies that he’d used as a screen behind which to steal a kiss and drop the announcement of Hawkins’ assignment in her ear. Forgetting her audience, Mina had kissed him back, forgetting to mask herself behind the petals. They had absconded to the cab to the sound of a dozen girls cooing their farewells, Miss Murray, see you tomorrow, Miss Murray, has he got a brother, Miss Murray?

“Hardly a terrible thing. If you are one of their examples, mustn��t they have something to look forward to at the end of all their practice?” He assumed a pose of scheming innocence, lashes batting. “I could be especially nefarious come Valentine’s Day. Take a holiday from Hawkins and show up toting chocolates and train tickets and a florist’s worth of flowers.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“I can hire an orchestra to follow us around. Have them play waltzes the whole day.”

“Jonathan.”

“No, of course, an orchestra would be too cumbersome. A singer and a violin, perhaps. I can hire a paperboy to throw rose petals after us. Or else I could send them up to the classroom to follow you in procession out of the building…”

The typewriter hammered back to life. Its keys were struck with more force than they needed.

“Sorry,” Mina sang above the din, “no hearing you over this. You will have to be a foul minion of Eros a little louder.” Jonathan bit his tongue against a reply. Yes, she was typing again. Yes, she was reading the last of the shorthand. Tap-tap-tap, clack-clack-clack. So far it was all the lines of a love note—a common enough surprise, if one that fished more than the usual dimpled grin out of her tonight—and she had not caught on yet to the conclusion. “How long will the client need you over there?”

“Between the travel to the estate, the stay, and the return trip, the whole thing should be over within early May. I shall have time to hoard you a while before you and Lucy have your summer escape to the coast. Was it Whitby?”

“Yes, quite near the landmark Abbey. I mean to harass the townspeople with demands for any ghost stories they might spare about the place. Perhaps Marmion is but a single drop in a sea of waiting legends.”

Tap-tap-tap.

“Then I shall try to collect what I can abroad in turn,” Jonathan said from behind a fan of notes. He kept only the corner of his eye pinned on the swimming lines. “There should be spirits in abundance along the route.” 

Clack-clack-clack.

“I would think so. But don’t settle for ghosts alone! I shall happily adopt any devils or revenants or folkloric fiends the locals can share—,”

Her voice died mid-key.

Jonathan looked over the top of his pages. Mina sat frozen as a sculpture. Her hands still hovered at the typewriter, lax and immobile. But her eyes were in motion. Flicking back, forward, and back again between Jonathan’s shorthand and the five words they had translated to in plain ink.

Will you marry me, Wilhelmina?

By the time she finally turned her head back to face him, he was already on the floor, swift and silent at her hip. The box sat open in his hand. Set inside was a petite gold band whose stone gleamed like a fleck of starlight.

Mina looked from the ring to its holder with eyes that were already spilling.

“Yes,” Jonathan heard a dozen, a hundred times in the ensuing night. Yes, yes, yes, a thousand, a million times, yes. Between kisses, between tastes, between touches and takings that skirted the furthest edge of propriety between unmarried bodies. Yes.

“We are engaged. We must prepare for the wedding night as one must study ahead of an examination. Isn’t that right, Miss Murray?”

“It is, Mr. Harker.” Then, furtive despite her position over him, she grew a smile both shy and sly. A lure surrounded by the hanging curtain of her hair, “…Can you say it? For practice’s sake.” He did not have to ask her meaning.

“Mina Harker.”

Her teeth bared in a white moon.

“I didn’t quite hear you. Say again?” As she asked, her hand moved. He gasped in the trap of it.

“My pronunciation must be off. How is this?” His own hand moved. Her eyes went wide and dark. “Mina Harker. Mina Harker. Mina Harker.”

More practice unspooled. Harker, husband, wife, I do, I will. Around and around again until their tongues ran dry and they were left folded into the tangle of each other, their last fig leaf still reserved for the nuptial night itself. As midnight rolled past, the storm slipped off with it and left the moon to throw its rays through the edges of the curtains. Mina’s ring trapped its glow on her knuckle. He almost wept to look at it.

Real. This is real. I am awake and this is real. God, God. Thank you.

“Thank you,” he murmured into the top of her head. Her hair massed into a perfect curling cloud under his chin. The cloud tickled there as she lifted her gaze to him.

“For what?”

“You know.”

“If I must say, ‘You’re welcome,’ so must you.” Jonathan held his tongue. “Exactly.” Her hand cupped his cheek as she went on, “I feel much the same. Like a lottery was won and the prize is an unfair gift by dint of how precious it is compared to the recipient. By how that prize refuses to acknowledge their own value. But there is time yet to filter that all down into something better. We will have our vows to smother each other with and neither of us will be able to shush and insist, no, no, I am the luckier one. All while the pews roll their eyes. For tonight I ask that we have a truce. No deprecation, no hoisting onto pedestals. Just for now, we will pretend we each feel equal to the blessing of the other. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Good.” Mina lifted herself high enough to find his lips with hers. “I love you, Jonathan.”

“I love you, Mina.” He mouthed the words to himself long after she had fallen asleep atop his heart. I love you, Mina. I love you, Mina Murray. I love you, Mina Harker. I love you. Thank you.

Jonathan faced the covered window and the sliver of pane visible at the cloth’s edge. He spotted the moon hovering in a split among the breaking rainclouds. As sleep finally found him, he could not shake an unpleasant certainty that he was looking at a great glowing eye. And that it was staring back. 

Jonathan discovered Carfax Abbey on a clear blue day. His immediate impressions of the place ran in quick succession. First, that the location was so precise in its accommodation of Count Dracula’s specifications that it might have been commissioned. Second, that it looked like a place meant only to exist after dark on a sinister moor. This remained true despite the brilliance of spring stubbornly budding along the edge of its high stone fence.

He sent back a late thanks to himself as he’d been that morning, when he had tossed a coin on whether or not to bring the Kodak with him for the day’s hunt. Though the cab would be trusted to take him to the general area, it would be down to more literal footwork to inspect the properties he hoped to survey as far as he could without increasing the fare. Which would not bother him too much if he were going light. He did have a fondness for a run when it could be gotten away with sans pedestrians. But there would be no jogging with the camera to mind. Only a steady trudge.

Yet even that predicted march was trimmed down to a mere amble by dint of the cabman’s suggestion. He had heard out Jonathan’s description of his ideal quarry and first assumed him to be a tourist who’d gotten lost in a search for haunted houses.

“The area hasn’t much in that way, lad. Only place that comes close is old Carfax. Used to be an abbey, but looks more like a hideaway for the Dark Ages’ ghouls.”

“Do you know if it’s for sale?” This had earned him an odd look before the cabman admitted he had seen a sign staked out front that might have claimed the place was available. Supposing one cleared away the accumulated grime.

“I have to wonder if your buyer will bother with such a place. Ghosts can be dealt with, but it has more unsavory living neighbors to deal with.”

“Who are they?”

“Can’t say I know them personally, thank God, but I know for certain they’re perfectly mad.”

“Really?”

“Well, they’d not be in a private madhouse otherwise.”

The cab passed said lunatic asylum en route to the site. Jonathan was happy to note that it was at least a stately building, clearly a former domestic estate that had been expanded into suitable proportions for the inmates and staff. Better still, it was so far from Carfax as to be invisible through the facility’s wall of tended trees even when standing outside the latter’s stonework border.

Seeing the composition of said fence’s rough stones had plucked at Jonathan’s boyhood itch for play. If it were not for the cabman as a witness, he might have clambered his way up and walked along the edge as he’d done around his aunt’s home before he was declared too old for such nonsense. Still musing, Jonathan thanked the man again for the find and paid for the ride, promising another fare if he would return in an hour’s time. The cabman hesitated even after he had taken the first half of the pay.

“You’re certain you’d rather not go up the whole road first? There aren’t many houses, but they’re each of them empty and all far less a stain on the eye than that evil heap of rocks.”

“Do any of the rest have a chapel attached?”

“Don’t believe so. But if your buyer’s so keen on his prayers he ought to make do with a trip to church like the rest of us.”

“I imagine he means to refurbish it for that very purpose.” Jonathan offered a smile. “I’m certain whatever spirits might be lurking will have to clear out once he’s put the place in order.”

“Or torn the bloody thing down,” the cabman muttered not quite under his breath. He huffed and checked his watch. “An hour, you said? Just to wander around the place?”

“To wander here and across the neighboring grounds. I need to take note of the full landscape as well as the estate.” The cabman snorted at this in time with his horse.

“I hope your buyer is paying what you’re worth, lad. Any more on his list and he’d have you mapping out all of Purfleet to be sure it suits his fancy.” When the cab pulled away Jonathan began the photography. As much as he could manage from outside the fence. But then, because there were no witnesses, and because there was no way of opening the gate without ruining the rusted lock, and because it really wouldn’t be a thorough survey of the property without a glimpse of things on the inside of the towering stone walls, Jonathan shouldered his bag and scaled the rock as blithely as a spider.

He landed in the shade under one of the sundry trees that crowded the interior grounds. Jonathan marveled at how the trees’ shadows and that of the hulking abbey combined to hold a permanent dusk in place. So much so that it was a challenge to find any well-lit spots in which to take pictures without losing details. Up close the chapel was no less imposing than the abbey. It stood apart in its overgrown gothic solitude while the abbey puffed itself out with late additions to the structure. Jonathan made a note to reserve some pictures for Mina once he’d set aside an album for the Count. Sadly there was no letting himself indoors without becoming a full intruder, and so he satisfied himself with touring the rest of the land. A tour he was happy to make at a run.

The camera and his bag were set carefully aside with the chapel to manage this—for he must manage it, seeing as the grounds seemed to cover no less than twenty acres—and sent another belated thanks to his morning self for donning more active shoes than his workplace pair. While the place was no forest, it was an easy enough copse to imagine as such. A private patch of woodlands in which he had no one to be mindful of on a trail or blush over as they gawked at him, wondering what his hurry was. Here the exercise even bore fruit in the form of revealing a pond set at the estate’s southern end. A pool clear with spring water and trickling a faint stream through a grate into denser growth beyond the rear gates. Another run and a returning walk ensured this too got its photograph.

It was as he took these pictures that he saw the place even had some refreshment in the way of brambleberries snarling their way along the masonry. They were still some months away from being in season, but the desire to steal a piece of their thorny nest to plant his own shrub gnawed. At least until he reminded himself it would be hopeless with his current lodging. A mint tin of a flat slotted wall-to-wall with the rest of the street. Mina’s was worse still, he knew. When they married, they would pool their funds to find somewhere with a little girdle of a garden around it. Or else they would have window-boxes to grow things for the kitchen. Or both. Just a wedge of greenery to tame and taste for themselves.

 For now, he satisfied himself with adding it to the marital itinerary and took out his notebook to jot the impressions of Carfax Abbey as he had for half a dozen other estates, all of them falling short on one preference or another. Too new, too near to the hub of a city, too compact, too bright, and, most damning, not a single chapel to spare among them. At least, none that were not in use by the general public. He would likely run around for another couple weeks to check on other prospective options, but he held little hope for a finer match than Carfax.

Carfax, Carfax. I wonder…

The notebook was tucked away in exchange first for his watch, which showed he’d somehow burned only twenty minutes, and then a compass. A minor note from the Count had mentioned a desire to have, ‘an open sky with which to see all the night and day, the dusks and dawns, without men’s brick and smoke in their way.’ Jonathan could not fault such a wish and so had brought the compass to see if he might happen upon a house with the view clear for the east’s sunrise and the west’s sunset. The compass revealed he had done even better with the abbey.

‘Carfax.’ Quatre Face. A four-sided house with its walls facing the four cardinal directions. All clear of any rooftops and their belching chimneys. I’m sure it will please you, Count.

The thought sank his joy like a stone. Jonathan looked again at the abbey. Haunted and a relic of dead centuries, true, but a place of dignity and grand dimensions all the same. A voice rose up in him with smiling malice as he stared at it.

You will never have such space. You will never have a home so broad that Mina can have rooms all for herself and more for the daydream of children. You will live close to all the fruits of a metropolis, as near as the gutters themselves, and only ever know what it is to skim them, to borrow them, to daydream without laying your lesser hands on them except to use them for another. You will have neither the sprawling beauty of nature or the boons of modernity. Not for your entire life, Jonathan Harker.

And, because he could not stop the flow once it was running:

She should have found someone better. Someone with more than your scraps to offer.

He ground the heel of his palm against each eye until they dried.

“What would she say?”

Something kind you do not deserve.

Jonathan shook his head and marveled at the paradox that still found its way to nettle him even with the ring on her finger. Perhaps because of it. It was the miserable uncertainty of the hours preceding his examination turned up a hundredfold. Time, experience and evidence all stood in favor of him passing his tests on the professional and romantic fronts, yes, yes, he knew it…

…But what if he didn’t? What if he had somehow fooled himself and Mina and Hawkins and peers and the world itself into thinking he was more than what he was? What if?

What if you stop wallowing and get out before the cab returns?

Jonathan stopped long enough to skip a stone across the pond before following his route back to where he’d clambered over the wall. With half an hour to spare, he began walking at a healthy gait across the spread of land between the abbey and the asylum. If only to say he knew how many paces it was between the properties. One, two, three, four, five…

The pacing turned irregular once he had to cross through the border of trees that stood for a property line between Carfax and its company. Jonathan was stunned to discover there was no proper fence hidden behind the picturesque rows. Only a walled and gated section at the rear of the asylum that suggested an area for outdoor excursion or perhaps a private kitchen garden. He hoped it was the former. Even the insane needed leave to stretch their legs beyond the borders of a cell. As he mulled this, he heard a shout. It sounded like it held the weight of every expletive known to the English tongue and several more beyond it.

Following this was the same livid voice grating seemingly out of thin air, “Idiot! Fool! One damned page and you do this?” Jonathan heard a clatter of hollow things against a wall. “Imbecile!” He stepped fully beyond the wall of trees and saw the voice’s owner pacing back and forth inside a barred window set at the foot of the asylum’s wall.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Jonathan was almost as surprised as the man in the window to realize he had not only spoken, but come closer. There was an instant in which the man tensed. The picture of one who’s realized someone of influence has caught them in a bad moment. Yet upon actually seeing Jonathan and recognizing his lack of import, he relaxed enough to smile. Albeit sourly.

“Apart from this most inconvenient stint of homemaking, courtesy of concerned friend and kin, I am quite fine, young man. Ebullient, ecstatic, elated.” The polite rictus hardened. Jonathan thought queasily of wild dogs. “Apart from the fact that I have lost the last of my stationery to an overfilled glass. My cup runneth over. My cup ruins days of work and turns the remaining space to so much waste. Just look!”

The man thrust something up to the gaps in the bars, stopping just short of throwing the spoiled pinch of paper out onto the grass. For it was spoiled. Jonathan saw the stationery was really little more than a large cut of butcher paper folded and refolded until it made a sort of accordion-book. The whole thing was so waterlogged that Jonathan could barely tell tally marks from letters as the crayon bled together and the pages sagged.

“Ruined,” the man punctuated with what was either a sneer or a sulk. “At best I can try to mash and dry the thing out as a new sheet. But the stuff was already muddy enough to write on and I shall have to reduce myself to the penmanship of an infant with the bluntest marks just to make anything legible. And I had just started to make progress.” He cocked his gaze more fully at Jonathan. His look was one accustomed to giving brisk appraisal. “If you are a journalist, you are quite tardy with your pen. You’ve not even set up your camera’s tripod to record the travesty.”

“I am no journalist, unfortunately,” Jonathan admitted as he unearthed his notebook. “But at least that leaves some of this to work with, if you’re amenable.” Covering the shorthand of the last full page, he showed the man in the window the remaining blank sheets. Not a great many pages left, and certainly not of impressive size considering it was a pocketbook, but it would be a fair amount of writing space for a careful script. The man’s expression did not change, but his eyes brightened.

“I may be. Supposing I know the price at the other end of such a trade.”

“No price, sir. You would do me a kindness in taking it as I shall have to start a fresh one for another project soon. The predecessor would be left unfinished and forgotten in the meantime.”

“Ah, a worse fate than a journalist. An author. How many poor diaries have you left abandoned in their pretty bindings for the sake of a new volume?” The man clicked his tongue through a grin. “I jest, of course. You do not seem the sort to waste what he has.” The grin, still genuine, flattened an increment. Bloodshot eyes gleamed. “I fear I wasted a great deal of what I once thought mine on the other side of these delightful accommodations. Never make such a mistake as mine, young man. Do not doubt for an instant that what you trust today cannot turn on you tomorrow.”

“I won’t, sir.” Jonathan thought of adding that he had lived under that knowledge since the day he attended the funerals which ended his childhood. He swallowed it back. “May I..?” He held the notebook up, his shorthand sheets pinched between thumb and forefinger.

“I would be most grateful.”

Jonathan tore his filled pages neatly out. The remaining clean pages were barely thicker than a pamphlet, but clung sturdily to the little spine. Jonathan knelt low enough to lay it within reach on the grass. He noticed a small dusting of white powder at the window’s edge. A crowd of ants whittled away at the mound.

“Ants,” the man scoffed as he followed Jonathan’s line of sight. “Pitiful company. I had hoped the thaw would bring in something heartier. Flies, ladybugs, perhaps some early butterflies. But the real trouble is keeping them around. Ah, apologies, might you bring it a little closer?” The man raised his forearms into view. “I haven’t the best angle from where I stand.” Jonathan scooped up the notebook and brought it an inch nearer.

The man’s hands were abruptly out through the bars and clapped around Jonathan’s. Tight. Short of hurting, short of breaking, but locked as firmly as a vise. Jonathan tensed without pulling back. Again he thought of wild dogs. Of things that only seemed to be dogs until they closed in. Creatures that chased once they saw something run.

Jonathan was still. The man was still. Grasping Jonathan’s hand and the notebook in a pantomime prayer.

It’s my left hand. Smart enough for that, at least. I can still do my paperwork with the right intact and the other broken. Will the fingers heal in time for Mina to slip the band on? How mortifying to have to explain it all to her. I wonder if the asylum would make up a cast without charging for it…

“There is no need to shake upon it, sir,” Jonathan heard himself say. “The book is yours.” The man regarded him with less of a smile now. His lip still curled, but it seemed only to hold on by sheer will. It dropped entirely with the gust of a sigh.

“The book and a lack of tact, I fear. Even if I were not mad, I would still be a churl.” The hands relaxed and a set of fingers drummed once on the back of Jonathan’s wrist. “Though I suspect you are a soul used to them. I would tell you to be more wary on your way, but it is only a simpleton of a preacher who would bother teaching his flock wariness in a world where they must interact each day with wolves. Though I will advise that it is rather foolish to go around making conversation with confirmed lunatics up close. I am confirmed, you know. The facts are printed and signed all over by professionals. I saw the document myself.” The man’s look floated away from Jonathan and into a distance he couldn’t guess at. “Printed on far finer paper than what we settle for.”

One of the gripping hands came away, leaving only the one folded over the notebook and Jonathan’s palm. They shook. The notebook was collected in the same gesture.

“My thanks,” from the window.

“Quite welcome,” as Jonathan righted himself. He surprised himself with his own steadiness. The rote pitch of the office and a life’s worth of reflex steered his tongue while mind, heart, and stomach rattled where they hid. Because he had to do something with his freed hand rather than clasp it in its brother, he fished out his watch. Only now did a ripple of worry manage to rise to his face.

“Some trouble?”

“I fear I may have lost my ride.”

“You came from the by-road, yes? It hardly sees traffic. If your driver’s gone on without you, go around the front here and see if you cannot bribe our beloved head doctor into lending out the wagon. Just say you have managed to wring a whole quarter of an hour’s worth of nattering from his friend R.M.”

“R.M.?”

“Short for Mr. Rig R. Mortis.” The man chuckled at Jonathan’s look. “Pseudonym, young man. Can hardly have the family being shamed under my real title. He will know who you mean. Though I do hope you manage your ride instead.” With that, the man ducked back from the window and was gone. Jonathan had made it three strides away when the voice called behind him, “Here!” Something small struck the back of Jonathan’s heel. He turned and saw gold winking up at him. A sovereign. “It is not payment. You are merely ensuring the attendant who lost it when I had my last room search never gets it back.”

“Sir—,”

But the window was already abandoned. Jonathan picked the coin up. It was partially obliterated on one end, erasing part of Victoria’s face and the rider on the reverse. This was because the edge had been ground to a sharp edge that nicked his thumb open as he turned it over. Blood smeared Saint George, his steed, and the dragon hissing up at the sword and hooves.

Cold fingers seemed to walk up his spine as he examined it. Shaking the chill away, he tucked the coin in his pocket alongside the notebook’s harvested pages and dashed back the way he’d come. He made it to the waiting cab just as it was pulling up to the gate.

“Well, lad? Is it what your buyer’s after?”

“I believe so.” Jonathan smiled as he said it and held the expression admirably until the cabman turned his gaze back to the road. He gloved his hands despite the balmy weather, sheathing his thumb as it traced the thin impression of the cargo sitting against his breast.

“If you keep up with that you shall tear the whole cheek off,” she said at his shoulder. “You are awake, I promise.”

Jonathan stopped pinching at himself and split his attention between Mina’s face and the clock’s. The magic circle of Roman numbers seemed to shake a phantom head. No, it said, not yet. But soon.

“This is happening, then?” he asked as he turned fully to Mina. Mina, here at the last moment together until mid-May. Mina, wearing the ring he had saved a year for on her finger. Mina, who had clasped and kissed and kept him from collapsing outright in stupefied relief upon the announcement that he had passed his examination, her fiancé now a solicitor. Mina, who held his hand and kept him from floating off through the ceiling and into the sky. “This is really happening? Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.” Jonathan’s eye traveled to her neck and the glimpse of a cord peeking from her shirt collar. She caught him and spared her free hand to tuck it out of sight. “Just as I am sure you will not fly off with my treasure, you magpie.”

The treasure being Jonathan’s own plain gold band now worn as a necklace. He had been the one to slip it over her head the night before, mesmerized by the soft shine as it landed over her heart. It was done by mostly mutual agreement. Mina wished to hold a scrap of tradition close and leave his hand bare until they reached the chapel. And, though Jonathan suspected this was mere theatre, she said she wished to hold onto it as proof to herself that she was awake and that the engagement was a reality. Besides, it was practical! If he were wearing the cord on his trip, what if he should lose it in any number of countries as he traveled? It was one thing to risk forgetting it at the office or leaving it at home. Quite another to imagine losing it in a hotel in another nation. Even with all this logic at her disposal, Jonathan donned his best moue. Mina covered it with her hand.

“That is unfair.”

“I am not above unscrupulous tactics, Mrs. Harker.”

“Like trying to break me by calling me Mrs. Harker?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, you are foiled. My will is too great.” She brought her hand away to brush a strand of hair from his brow. “There is no need to scheme anyway. You shall have the thing back soon enough.”

Jonathan pretended not to hear the slight tremor at the word ‘soon.’ Yes, it was only a few weeks’ separation. A month at most if there were delays in train or coach. But even in this zenith of excitement, knowing unequivocally that this was where their future began—a future where they were taking their first steps up rather that walking the same flat circle in the dust—it felt strangely like waiting to leap into a chasm. A gorge that required endless paperwork to keep track of, plus what was required for the travel itself. Documentation, letter of credit, passport, polyglot dictionary, and, carefully packed, the first new suit he’d had in three years.

Mina had insisted on his modeling it before packing it away. After, she declared she must send a letter of gratitude to not only Mr. Hawkins, but to the tailor. They would have to see him again about the suit for the wedding. Lucy had already written back in response to Mina’s last letter with the announcement, erupting with insistence that, while she was not the sort of girl to live and die by fashion plates, she wanted to know the very instant she began hunting for a dress.

In the present, however, the only new attire was the coat Jonathan wore. A companion piece Hawkins had insisted join the suit before Jonathan could escape the tape measure. Jonathan’s hand drifted up to one of its pockets now and found it unexpectedly light. Worry spiked for a moment before his mind caught up to what it was he’d been feeling for. He almost laughed. Mina canted her head at him, searching. She never missed even the most minute shift behind his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Only I’ve realized I was so adamant about packing everything for the needs of the trip and the client that I forgot the one item I meant to bring solely for me.”

“Your books?”

“No, the law texts are there. A bit of Dumas as well. But I have forgotten my book.” He offered a bashful smile. “Ours, I mean. For your assignment.”

Her brow furrowed a moment before she recalled, “The journal?”

“Yes. I meant to grab one of the spare pocketbooks from my desk, but it’s not in its place. Maybe I bundled it in the case without thinking.” If not, he could shave out a little of his emergency budget for something en route to the castle. But Mina was beaming at him.

“An ordinary pocketbook might suffice for a clerk, but not a solicitor. Especially not when I’ve held onto this since you turned your back to peruse the dictionaries two months back.” She brought out her reticule as she spoke. From the reticule came a slim leatherbound volume with supple pages made to resist the traitorous smudges and tears of its precursor’s flimsy leaves. The whole thing was tied with a white ribbon that pinned a matching pen to its cover. “All shorthand. Promise?”

“Promise,” Jonathan nodded as he took the book gingerly from her hand. It fit so perfectly in the coat that it failed to even dent cloth. “Though I don’t believe the same applies to the recipes. Which I shall collect in abundance and inflict upon us both once I return. Is there anything specific you want me to bring back?”

“You know my tastes already.”

“Other than the cuisine, I mean.”

“Nothing comes immediately to mind. A good story or two would be nice, but,” again her hand found his face, cupped against the angle of his cheek, “as long as you come back, I will be satisfied.”

“I suppose that can be managed.”

The clock tolled and the call went out to the station. All aboard, come along. Mina’s eyes flicked with brief wonder to the train itself. Locomotives and their railways had been one of her chief interests for as long as Jonathan had known her. She regarded her copy of Bradshaw’s Guide with the same reverence as some did their Bible, to say nothing of the clipped articles she had collected concerning new routes and models being laid out within various countries. In sum, Mina loved the practicality and potential of trains. To her they were proof that their world was not limited by whether or not they could hail a hansom or how far it was willing to take them. But now her smile dimmed.

“It had better bring you back on time,” she said as they walked arm and arm up to his car. “I shall be standing in this very spot with my watch out.”

“I’ll warn the conductor.” Because they were among strangers, she had allowed him to hold her arm rather than the reverse. He gave a gentle squeeze first to her arm, then her hand. The lump of the stone stood out under her glove. “If it runs late, I will simply run ahead.” Her laugh did little to hide the dew in her eyes. It matched the mist in his. Their hands held tight.

In that moment, an absurd impulse leapt up in him. An animal-twitch of fear that went deeper than mere anxiety, deeper than love, deeper than concern of career or separation or wandering in unknown lands. It was the needling of a sense he had no name for. A thing that smelled or heard or tasted some imperceptible sign that bodily and mental awareness refused to acknowledge. It whispered:

Do not go. Do not do this. Go home. Go now. Before it’s too late.

The whisper froze him. Mina appeared to freeze with him. Her eyes reflected a feverish glimmer of his own disquiet. They stood locked in that second like a hart and doe with their ears pricked toward a huntsman’s tread in the wood.

But then they blinked. Mina’s gaze lightened and the uncanny sensation left Jonathan as quickly as it came. Only a shudder of nerves disguised as a portent. Really, he could hardly bow to it even if it had meant anything beyond a hiccough of his own fretting. Fact outweighed fear and the fact was he had a job to do. A job that began here, now, with the release of Mina’s hand so he might grab his other bag from her.

Thus unburdened, Mina abruptly trapped his face between her palms. Jonathan bent down until his mouth met hers. Here was the plush press of her lips on his, feeling so much like a reverie he thought once again that he must be asleep. He would wake any moment and the fantasy would fall away into foam. Now. Now.

“Now, I don’t mean to intrude, but there is a train waiting. I’m afraid you must save the rest of the young man for his return trip.” They both snapped up at once to see the uniformed man at Jonathan’s back. He was eyeing them with a look that spoke of a career forever encumbered with similar scenes. The man peered at Jonathan over his spectacles. “You are boarding?”

“Yes, sir. Apologies.” But an apology not even fractionally meant. He turned back to Mina who now steamed from the neck up as she avoided the gawking of an older couple taking in the show. The wife gestured at the sight of them, muttering something in a tone of mingled mirth and query in her husband’s ear, to which the husband rolled his eyes. Jonathan spared them only a mote of attention. “Mina.” She looked to him. “I love you. I’ll be back soon.”

“I love you, Jonathan. I’ll be right here.”

He found his seat at the window and did not turn his head away from the glass. Not while the train idled. Not while it pulled away in its hiss and puff of turning wheels. Not while Mina stood there waving after him, her feet tugging her forward a few unconscious steps so that she might see his window longer while he craned his head to keep her in view. Only when the station itself was a speck in the distance did he turn back around. Off to the future to lay an invisible track for them both. To collect countries as keepsakes and bring them home on paper like pressed flowers.

Jonathan tried to imagine what he might cross on his travel to and from the castle that would be a worthwhile souvenir. Images of books and baubles were conjured as he traced the edges of his journal. So he went on musing until excitement burned out to exhaustion and the first doze of his trip dragged him down into sleep.

A dream came and went.

He was still on the train, still at his window, but the seat facing his was no longer empty. A face he knew was there. One harvested from the far end of his school days and the nascent career as a clerk. So he believed.

It was a familiar countenance in the way that the sight of a stranger always seen in the same place amounted to vague acquaintance. Known enough to nod at in passing. Jonathan had nodded at this one and been given a nod back in student years. He’d thought of introducing himself once or twice, only for the young man to flush and hurry off like a frightened stray. Jonathan had never quite understood it.

Now here was his anonymous acquaintance again, finally sedate in his seat and hidden in his newspaper. While he was not Jonathan’s senior by more than a year, he looked to be in a more professional state of dress. Pressed and tailored and relaxed in that way men can be when they know they have a wardrobe full of similarly fine ensembles waiting at home. But it was his choice of accessory that gave him away as being on a similar pilgrimage to Jonathan’s. The unoccupied portion of his seat was taken up by the paperwork of a sale, carefully weighted by a discarded hat. His companion spared it no attention, having his gaze pinned on the newspaper open in his hands. It blocked the view of him from the whiskers down. Jonathan was still wondering whether to announce himself when a voice came from behind the newsprint:

“My way goes through Munich. Yours as well?”

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “Though I fear there will be no real stop there. At least, the Count did not pencil a hotel stay in the route.”

“Hm,” his companion nodded. “I suppose he would not gamble it twice. Even if he did set it right the first go around.” The newspaper rustled and the young man’s eyes finally lifted above the print to find Jonathan’s. They were bottle glass-bright. “What all have you packed?”

“Necessities, mainly. Everything for the sale, some changes for the overnight stays and—,”

“And what haven’t you packed?”

“I…” His hand traveled again to his chest. “Mina saved me at the station. I forgot a notebook, but she had one ready. I should be fine.”

“No. You are still missing something. Rather, I expect you will be missing it quite soon.” There was a sigh behind the paper. “All that practice and you go and leave the damned thing under your bed.”

Jonathan straightened in his seat. His right hand clamped reflexively, as if palm and fingers were dreaming of a hardwood handle. 

“I’m not going to the jungle.”

“There are worse things than animals to worry about. If you cannot cut them down, what will be left to you?” Another page turned. The bottle glass eyes slid to look out the window. Jonathan followed his gaze and saw that the world had gone black and white under a skull-faced moon. “But then, you might make do without the steel. You handled the worst of our schoolmates well enough back then without even raising your voice. Whatever you may lack as a full-blooded Englishman you make up for in softer stuff. Enough that one or two of the lads confessed over drinks that they wished you were a girl. I was not one of them. You gave me trouble enough as a boy. 

“All that said, you have skills that will help. Appealing attributes. Ones I could have used myself.” The unblinking eyes slid back to Jonathan. It was a greyer stare now. Almost filmy. “I had nothing to sell. Neither in English property or my personal wares, so to speak. I could not even muster charm enough to be worth an extra hour’s chat.” Jonathan watched his companion’s hands crumple the paper in two fists. He saw for the first time that those hands were red. They left dry maroon stains across the gazette. “Who is waiting for you, Jonathan Harker? Who at home? Your Mina, old Hawkins, and who else? Any names come to mind?

“Of those friends, are there any who will know to worry when it goes wrong? Anyone to ask questions? To watch the calendar and the post and wonder how you are? Because I thought I did. I even knew the difference between friends and amiable acquaintances, unlike you. Fellows in and out of my firm. Even a girl who understood my needs and was willing to play her part. They all said they expected letters from me. Said they’d be on watch if I was not back within half a month. That was a year ago. And still they do not know where I am. Nor have they cared enough to look.

“But you would have, I think. If I had ever gotten over my cowardice. If I hadn’t wasted boyhood cringing, so afraid I would give myself away. If I had not made a ghost of myself rather than a friend. I was so proud of myself for not daring at the time—I fear I would have made a wretched scene when I first realized you and the pretty schoolmistress were serious. Instead I took my wine and my pain in silence. Told myself how wise I had been not to try. Ha.” Jonathan watched pallid lips peel open on a smile glazed pink with bleeding. Red rivulets trailed out between the young man’s teeth and into the trimmed beard. “Not that it would have mattered in the end. If we had been friends, if we had been more, if we had been anything at all, there wouldn’t have been much for you to find.”

Jonathan leaned forward. It took an effort. A growing stench was starting to waft from the opposite seat. The stink of copper and rot.

“Please, just tell me what this is. Tell me how to help. What’s happened?”

His companion’s grisly smile wilted. The bottle glass eyes ran like his mouth.

“What’s happened is you have climbed onto the same train I took. You will ride on plenty more. The same coaches too. Perhaps that will help. They never caught on to the truth of things when it was me. After all, he does have work to do, being what he is. People must have made it to and from that place before in official capacity. They must have thought it would be the same for imported goods. Hopefully they will know better now. But then, so will he. Soon all you will have to rely on is yourself. Use what you have. All that you have. Play the game as best you can. As long as you can.” Red tears and dribble flowed in a thickening cascade. “I could not last a week and so lost everything. Or nearly so. I am restless, true, but it could have been worse. Much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” Jonathan almost rasped. Fear choked him like a noose.

“I know. And I am very, very sorry to say that you will.” His companion sighed, releasing a crimson haze of spittle into the air. “Well. This is all I can manage as I am. I suppose I shall not need this anymore. Here.” The newspaper was shut and held out for Jonathan to take. “Somewhat out of date, but well worth the read.”

 Jonathan spared barely a mote of attention for it. There was no headline or story that he could make out. Only a flash of what looked like the stanzas of a poem, though he couldn’t say for certain. He was too gripped by the sight of the young man below the neck. Seeing the fullness of it hooked something in Jonathan’s stomach and drew it up to the very edge of his teeth. He wasn’t sure if it was his breakfast or a scream.

That was when the hand fell on his shoulder.

Cold. Just as cold as the lips now pressed at the side of his neck.

Whatever sound he might have made was cut off as something sharp drove into his throat and the train went as dark as the world beyond it.

“Sir?” Jonathan fell against his seat as if thrown. The uniformed man started back himself, taking his hand away from Jonathan’s shoulder as he did. “We’re coming to the station soon. Can’t have you sleeping through your stop.”

“No. No, of course. Thank you. Sorry.” The man glanced at Jonathan’s lap with a look possessed by every father who has ever known better than his progeny.

“You could pick lighter reading to nod off on. You’re only setting yourself up for sour dreaming if that’s what you skim beforehand.” He didn’t loiter long enough to explain what he meant. Jonathan looked down.

He had picked a gazette to stuff into his things before he and Mina reached the platform. He’d had an idea that he was reserving his books for the far end of his travel and so would make do with some final updates from his native soil. At some point he had turned all the way to the obituaries. His hand rested on one describing the tragic loss of a young man at sea. A sailor fallen overboard in a storm, presumed dead.

They could be wrong, Jonathan thought with sudden desperation. Perhaps he lived. He made it safely to an island or some distant beach. They could find him alive and well. Couldn’t they?

The newspaper was shut, folded over twice, and tucked back in his luggage. Jonathan did not touch it again until he left the final station that spat him out by the shore, feeding it to the first wastebin he saw. He almost laughed to himself when it came time to board the ship. It would be May by the time he cracked open the journal and wrote anything of interest.

“I shall do better on the return trip,” he promised the naked pages. “I’ll record a view of the sunrise on the water, I swear.” And he meant it. But for this first voyage across the water, Jonathan stayed shut in his room. If he dreamt of a black tide coming up to swallow him, he was happy to wake without recalling it. 

[monzabee]

this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming  – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?” 

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.” 

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion. 

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig. 

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?” 

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues. 

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?” 

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?” 

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head. 

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought. 

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.” 

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.” 

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat. 

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.” 

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help. 

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!” 

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?” 

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd. 

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.” 

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.” 

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.” 

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?” 

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.” 

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.” 

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention. 

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.” 

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.” 

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.” 

“Why not?” He asks, amused. 

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.” 

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly. 

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice. 

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides. 

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him. 

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes. 

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands. 

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.” 

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of  his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him. 

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.” 

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door. 

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move. 

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!” 

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.” 

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center. 

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.” 

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?” 

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks. 

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?” 

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage. 

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.” 

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.” 

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver. 

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look). 

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.” 

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher. 

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look. 

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.” 

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.” 

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.” 

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.” 

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.” 

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips. 

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face. 

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.” 

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today. 

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car. 

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him. 

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair. 

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion. 

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.” 

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.” 

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.” 

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face. 

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone. 

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.” 

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.” 

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.” 

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.” 

“I can’t wait, chérie.” 

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you. 

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look. 

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?” 

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster. 

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering. 

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant. 

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.” 

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time. 

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.” 

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table. 

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs. 

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.” 

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer. 

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk. 

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death. 

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.” 

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples. 

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.” 

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table. 

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces. 

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?” 

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend. 

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs. 

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.” 

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.” 

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips. 

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.” 

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table. 

[l4nd0scharm]

THE MASK - LN4

Author’s note: this was a bit rushed i guess. Please do not copy!

LandoxReader

Warnings: Knife play (noone was injured), bondage slightly, oral play (f receiving), 18+, read at your own risk.

You entered your shared apartment with your boyfriend Lando, with a smallish bag. “Baby?” you called out for him, walking to the living room seeing him on the couch, spread legs covered in those grey sweatpants you absolutely adore on him, his shirt seemed to be lost somewhere seeing that he’s shirtless, making your mind already fuzzy as you gripped the bag tighter. His arm spread out on the back of the sofa as he uses the other to switch the channels. He looked from the TV from the sound of your voice, “Hey darling, where were you all day?” he said looking up at you from where he was sitting, his lips curving up into a small smile.

“Outside with the girls today, did our nails and gossiped a bit, how was training?” you asked sitting down next to him, kissing his cheek in the meanwhile. He put the arm from the back of the couch around your shoulders, pulling you into him as he pressed a loving kiss to your temple. “Training was good, Jon was a bit harsh on me but i’m okay” he said as he nuzzled his cheek against your head.

“What do you have in there?” he asked tugging at the bag in your hands so he could peek. But what was inside shocked him. Inside there was a mask, specifically from the movie Scream. “Baby? What’s this for?” he asked despite knowing there is Halloween in an month. “Well, I was thinking, you could put it on….in bed” you trailed off looking away for a bit.

Your sex life with Lando was amazing, always tried new things and always talked with eachother. You look back at Lando and notice how his eyes darken, hint of desire and lust present. He inspected the mask, a small smirk creeping up on his face. He looked at you, seeing your face flushed red, “Go to the bedroom, and i hope you’re not wearing clothes you like, because i’ll ruin them, so change if you want and wait on the bed” he said lowly, his voice contained a hint of huskiness.

You widen your eyes, but immediately obeyed him, quickly doing as he said and waited on our bed.

A couple of minutes passed when Lando’s shadow was seen in the hallways making you clench your thighs together. He appeared in the doorway, leaning against it with his forearm, the mask on, but what made you more excited was the knife. You looked at him shocked, as he slowly walked towards you, you can feel his eyes tracing over your body, even though they are hidden by the mask. “Lan-“ you started but got cut off. “Safe word?” he asked, voice slightly raspy. “Rose” you said loudly enough for him to hear. He kneeled on the bed, his bare tanned chest looking absolutely sculpted by gods, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, his length already making an impressive appearance, making you secretly thank the people who invented sweatpants.

He took the knife, gently tracing the back of it on the side of your face, down to your jaw, neck, once he reached the neckline of your shirt, you were sure that you were soaked, but stayed still looking up at him. He tilted his head grabbing the collar of your shirt cutting a slight slit, putting the knife safely beside you before ripping the shirt, taking the poor fabric throwing it aside. You were already a mess, breathing heavily when he barely even touched you. “L-lan-“ you whimper when you felt his gaze on you. He put his thumb on your lips, shutting you. “You wanted this hm?” he said lowly, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. You closed your eyes as he leaned closer to your ear. “Aren’t you perfect? Wanting me in this mask-“ he trailed picking up the knife, making your breath hitch, “-does this turn you on princess?” he whispered ripping your bra with the tip of the knife. You let out a soft gasp at the sound, the garment falling behind you on the bed as your cheeks flushed, feeling exposed to his hungry gaze. “So beautiful, so mine” he said tracing the tip of the knife between your breasts, sliding down to the waistband of your shorts. He put the knife on the night stand before undoing your shorts slowly making you whine, “Lando please,” you rushed out your words feeling the ache between your legs getting worse, needing to be touched, needing him desperately. He stopped his moves, his hand slowly reaching up to wrap around your neck, squeezing slightly, “Patience, sweetheart, be a good girl for me, hm?” he whispered, squeezing slightly again. You nodded, mind going clouded as you felt the pressure around your neck. He released your neck, trailing his hand down your chest, squeezing your breasts, rolling one peak between his fingers, making you arch your back into him, letting another soft gasp, whimpering a bit. He let’s out a soft chuckle “Always so sensitive and responsive for me, baby, just how i like you” he spoke, his hands finding the waistband of your shorts, unbuttoning the shorts, tapping your thigh. You immediately understood his message lifting my hips, shorts already flying off your legs. Leaving you only in your underwear. He parted your legs, moving in between them as he hovered above you, arms on each side of you, grinding his hard length, between your thighs, making you squirm, letting out a soft moan at the contact.

“Fuck,-“ he rasped “you look perfect like this, and all for me.” he voiced out, reaching down between your legs, easily finding your sensitive clothed bud, starting to rub painfully slowly. Your breathing got quicker, as you moved your hips against his thumb, trying to relieve pressure that built up from his annoying teasing. One of his hands moved to your hip pinning it down to a halt. Getting impatient himself, he pulled back standing up to remove his sweatpants revealing him painfully hard. He thanked his brain for not putting on boxers after his shower earlier. He pumped his length watching you as you lay on the bed. Hair sprawled out, cheeks flushed a beautiful red, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths, sweat forming on your forehead. He groaned softly, his thumb moving over his tip, collecting that precum spreading it over his hard on.

You watched him, not daring to touch yourself whilst watching him, his arm flexing as he moved it on his dick. The sight alone made you almost come undone. Standing over you, nothing but the fucking mask. You yelped as you felt him tug you to the edge of the bed by your ankles, feeling your panties pushed to the side. “Soaked, totally drenched, all because of me” you heard him speak, feeling two fingers slip into me almost embarrassingly easily. A loud moan from you was all he needed before continuing his movements, sliding in and out of you, the sounds of your juices filling the room alongside both of yours breathing. He pulled them out, earning a whine from you before it got cut off as he lined himself up and slid into you all the way, making the whine replace itself with a gasp. He lets out a low growl, “Fucked you so many times and you’re still so tight, princess.” he said, feeling you clench around him at that sentence made him chuckle. He pulled out to the tip, before slamming into you getting another moan from you as you looked up at him. Hooded eyes, filled with nothing but lust and desire.

He started pumping into you hard, wasting no time being gentle, your eyes already giving hints that you want it rougher.

You searched the bed, finding the sheets, gripping them as he continuesly fucked you into heaven. “A-ah Lando, p-please” you moaned trying to keep your eyes open looking at the man in the mask. “S-so good” you added arching your back.

He pulled out flipping you on your stomach, he grabs your hips as he pulls your ass up. “Such a pretty girl, taking me so well” he praised, making you clench around nothing. He rubbed his hand over your ass, giving it a slight slap earning a whimper from you. He took the ripped bra, using it to tie your hands behind your back, your face stuffed in the pillows, your moans now muffled as he slammed into you from behind, giving you no mercy as he pounded into you.

“Always so good, fuck,-“ he grunts “my princess, this is what you wanted? Me fucking this pretty little cunt in a mask?” he said whilst moving his hips at a fast pace. You felt yourself getting closer at his words, whimpering shamelessly “Please, harder baby, i-i’m close” you managed to say.

He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you up, his pace never slowing. With one hand he grabbed your neck, other slid down, finding your clit easily, rubbing the sensitive nub. “What’s that? My princess wants to cum?” he asked his voice slightly breathless from pounding into you. You frantically nodded. “Words princess. Tell me, what do you want?” he asked his grip around your throat slightly tightening as your mind went fuzzy. “C-cum, please, i need to c-cum, Lan-“ you were cut off as he pinched your clit, your release flooding you so quickly, you dropped down as he released you from his grip. Your vision went white as you swore you never came that hard before. Lando soon came, grunting as he pulled out, seeing his cum dripping out of your used pussy. You let out a soft moan, feeling Lando rubbing your clit softly, smearing his cum all over you. He pulled the damn mask off, cleaning you up with his tongue, leaving you a moaning mess, as you felt another wave coming through. “That’s my good girl” he softly praised, taking the knife from the bedside table, cutting the bra, releasing your hands from the restraint. He out the knife away, rubbing your wrists kissing them softly, “my beautiful girl.” he whispered turning you around, leaning in to kiss you. You let out a soft moan, tasting you and himself on his lips. “You were perfect, princess” he mumbled against your lips. Pulling away, pressing a reassuring kiss on your forehead before going to the bathroom to start a bath. Once that was prepared, he went back to pick you up, taking you to the bathroom, setting you into the bath before slipping into it behind you.

You leaned back, feeling his fingers gently tracing your arm. “The mask huh?” he let out a soft laugh as he asked. You closed your eyes blissfully spent “Best purchase ever made.” you said as you enjoyed the aftercare.

Let’s just say that mask was used way more than usual.

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Tolerate It II

"What would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins?"

Read Part I here

Quite frankly, Harry isn’t sure how much longer he can take this. He listens to Y/N’s request for space for all of 4 days.

On Sunday, Harry finds the whiskey he put away when Elle was born. He finishes the bottle. 

On Monday, he works himself into a frenzy looking at pictures of Y/N at their wedding. The smile on her face sends him spiralling as he realises he hasn’t seen her smile like that in a while. 

On Tuesday, Anne calls him and boy does she let him have it. She doesn’t yell but she knocks some sense into him and Harry’s heart breaks. She tells him Y/N has barely said two words since she arrived and if he doesn’t act soon, he’s going to lose the two things that are supposed to be most important to him.

So he breaks out his rock records, blasting the music as loud as he can to drown out the screaming voices in his head telling him that he’s lost his wife forever. Oh and he also drinks himself into oblivion. Again.

On Wednesday afternoon he’s hungover and slightly delirious. And so naturally, he texts her. 

Harry: Y/N I’m so sorry my love. I hope you and Elle are ok at mum’s. She told me you were there. I know you might not be ready but I’m here when you want to talk. I’ll be home for the rest of the week love. Come over when you’re ready. 

He waits by the phone like a lovesick teenager for 20 minutes, almost falling off the bed when the status of the text changes from delivered to read. He waits for another 20 minutes willing for the three dots to appear and when they don’t, he turns the music back on, quieter this time, ignores the pounding in his head and closes his eyes. 

He sleeps the rest of the day away, waking around noon on Thursday, his heart jumping out of his chest when he sees a new message notification. He sighs dejectedly when he realises it’s not Y/N, his eyes widening as he realises the text is from Kendall.

Kendall: We need to talk H. I’m so sorry about the articles. I’m on my way over, hope you’re home.

Harry rubs his faces tiredly before forcing himself out of bed. Kendall is the last person he wants to see right now but he knows there isn’t any point in telling her not to come if she’s on her way. 

So he cleans (barely), shaves and showers, in an effort to make it seem like he hasn’t been living on his couch and off takeout for the past few days.

There’s a knock at the door and Harry drags his feet over to the front door. 

“Hi…” The woman at the door speaks in an almost whisper, timidly shifting from foot to foot. 

Harry thinks his mind is playing a sick joke on him. 4 days of drinking his life away and he’s suddenly seeing visions. But the woman in front of him doesn’t seem to disappear no matter how many times he blinks and so he comes to the conclusion that she must be real.

“Y/N? I... What are you doing here?” Is all he can think to say. As soon as the words are out of his mouth he regrets them. He winces as his wife’s face contorts into a look of hurt and slight annoyance. 

“What am I doing here? In my house? Good god Harry I left for space, I didn’t move out. Can I come in or are we going to keep having this conversation in the doorway?”

“I didn’t mean- Of course come in love. I just didn’t expect to see you so soon.” He steps aside to let her through and follows her as she walks to the couch and takes a seat. He sits beside her and the silence is loud.

“So…” Y/N begins, shooting a tentative look at Harry who’s looking at her intently. 

“How’s Elle? I miss my little bug. I’ve missed you both.” 

“She’s good. Loved the extra grandma time the last few days. I’ve missed you too H. But we need to figure this out before we keep going. I don’t know how many more chances I can give, I don’t know how many nights I can stay up waiting, hoping for you to call. I shouldn’t have to hope you’ll call, you’re my husband you should want to call.” Y/N sighs, wiping her hand over her face quickly to stop the tears from falling. Harry intertwines their fingers squeezing her hand in his. He does it twice more and Y/N gives him a watery smile. It was something they used to do when they were first married; whenever they were in public they would squeeze each others hands three times.

 I. Love. You. 

He lifts her hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it. 

“Y/N, I fucked up. Multiple times. I haven’t been there for you and I wish I could tell you that it’s simply because work was mental but I was overwhelmed and so I looked for distractions. It’s no excuse I know that. But I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone and sometimes I wish I didn’t love you so much because I need you like oxygen. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ve been an idiot to take you for granted. I’m going to be home by 5 every day from now on I promise. We’re going to have dinner together every night. We’re going to get a nanny so that you and I can go on dates like we used to. I’m going to-“

“Slow down cowboy.” Y/N grins. A bright smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. 

“We’re going to be ok?” It’s supposed to be a statement but it sounds more like a question when it comes out of Y/N’s mouth. 

“We’re going to be ok.” Harry affirms. He leans in to kiss her, pulling back at the sound of the door opening.

“Harry? You home? The door was unlocked so I just came in. Oh! Y/N, hi.” Kendall’s stilettos click against the wooden floor as she walks into the living room, taking in the couple sitting on the couch. 

“I just wanted to come by to-”

Y/N cuts her off. 

“Did you invite her over here Harry? Is that why you were so surprised when I got here? For fucks sakes.” She looks heartbroken. 

Harry is silent. It isn’t what it looks like. He knows that, Kendall knows that. Y/N… doesn’t know that. It seems he’s silent for too long because Y/N is suddenly standing and grabbing her bag off the coffee table. 

“Kendall, get out. Y/N let me explain. Please love, after all we talked about you have to know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Kendall leaves, muttering a plethora of apologies as Y/N stares at him with red rimmed eyes, her bag gripped tightly in her hand as though she’s planning her escape.

“Two minutes Harry. You’ve got two minutes to explain yourself before I walk out this door and this time I won’t be coming back.”

Read Part III here

A/N: Thoughts?! All your comments and reblogs are appreciated I love youuuuu ✨🫶

Tags: @lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @behindmygreyeyes @gem1712 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou @harrysrockstarsgf

[ellalalala]

Slipping Through My Fingers

Dainsleif x Female Reader, established relationship. Dainsleif and Reader have a daughter. Also on AO3. Aino - a female given name used in Finland, Estonia, Japan; meaning "the only one" in Finnish. Terms of endearment in Old Norse: Ljúfr - dear, beloved Ástin mín - my love, my dear

Dainsleif stood silently by the crib, gazing down at the child - his child - that slept soundly within. A fascinating thing; children of this age were usually loud, constantly demanding the attention of their parents - but Dainsleif's daughter was soft, easy.

"Gods, were it not for her snoring, I would fear that she may not be alive," you said once, to which Dainsleif smiled.

"It's alright; my brother used to tell me that I slept the same way."

He tried to commit every detail to memory: round, rosy cheeks, long lashes, a blonde tuft of hair that he so adored, tiny hands clenched into fists. A sweet little thing. Dainsleif wished she would wake up so he could hear her adorable laughter once more.

"Aino," he murmured, knuckles grazing her soft cheek. "Sweet Aino. My joy."

Dainsleif's memory continued to fade, but he would never forget the day of her birth. She was tiny; tinier still when he took her into his arms, heart leaping into his throat as he peered at her. She was delicate, pure, good. Dainsleif remembered the way his mouth fell open when she finally looked at him - bright blue eyes and a pair of star-shaped pupils he hadn't seen in so long. Proof of humanity's immeasurable resilience, but above all, his precious daughter.

"You may not recognize me the next time we meet." Dainsleif's heart lurched at the thought. He inhaled and said, softly, "please, save your first word for when I return. Stay as you are now."

He wished, now more than ever, that he could abandon his duties and stay with his family. What a sweet, simple life that would be; Dainsleif would find a proper job and use the mora earned to build you a cottage somewhere by the sea. There Aino would spend her youth before applying to the Akademiya - because Dainsleif wanted her to be a brilliant young woman - and then she would return to her awaiting parents. Perhaps she would marry. Would she have children of her own? Would Dainsleif be there to see it all?

He smiled softly. The future seemed distant and uncertain, but Dainsleif would pull Celestia down to the earth if it guaranteed a tranquil life for his daughter.

His heart ached with regret as he leaned down to press one last kiss on her forehead. Come noon, Dainsleif would be far from home, away from the little bundle of joy that brought light into his life. He tried not to dwell on that thought and leaned away.

"I will miss you every second that I am away from you," he said solemnly, "farewell for now, ljúfr."

How difficult it was to say those words; how he wished he could stay by her side.

Dainsleif turned around to find you standing in the doorway.

"Now?" you asked. Your efforts to appear calm were betrayed by your wobbly lips.

Dainsleif approached you slowly, reaching out a hand to hold your own. "Now. I don't..."

I don't want to leave, he thought. Dainsleif could only hope that his eyes conveyed what he felt; saying the truth aloud would only serve to hurt you.

"I know," you said, "I'll miss you, is all."

Dainsleif placed his palm on the back of your head, pulled you closer so that you were pressed flush against him. He felt your arms snaking around his torso and exhaled deeply. If only, he thought again, if only things were different.

"Everything will be alright. I'll write to you - to Aino, too. If it's not too much, please read my letters to her."

A muffled whine, "alright."

"I will bring you anything you want. What do you wish for, ástin mín?"

"For you to come back as soon as you can," you mumbled, "if it's not too much."

Dainsleif kissed your temple. "I promise."

[starlight-write]

Hello!!

I'm not sure if you can write it, I would be very happy if you write it.

I want ler alastor and lee Lucifer and Charlie.

I don't know, he might be in Alastor mode and want to catch the two of them (of course, with his tentacles, otherwise how can he fight them alone) he may make fun of "the king and heir of hell is quite ticklish" but I especially want Lee to outweigh Lucifer.

I hope you write

Royal Weakness

A/N: First of all, thank you so much to everyone who voted in the poll and to everyone who sent in their requests! I will admit this one was a bit of a challenge for me and I was on crunch time while writing it but figured I needed to get something out for y'all sometime this year lol. So yeah, not proof read and extremely rushed but hope you enjoy anyways!! <3

Relationships: Ler!Alastor, Lee!Charlie, Lee!Lucifer

Word Count: 2117

Summary: Charlie makes a bet with her father that lands them both into trouble.

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Charlie let out a scream as the tendril lifted her off the ground.

The princess had made a break for it, hoping to escape her smiling friend after he made it clear he was done with her bullshit.

The demon had no clue what had gotten into her but she had been following him around all morning hellbent on testing his patience. First it was the constant yapping, random pokes, random questions, hugging him almost every other minute. It wasn't long before Alastor retreated into his tower to get away from that wide-eyed pest.

The last thing he expected was for her to follow him in there. God, she was behaving like some snot-nosed toddler in an antique store. Bombarding him with a million questions as she put her grubby little hands on whatever she could reach.

What's worse is that he knew what she was trying to do. He'd known the girl long enough by now to decipher what her intentions were at any given moment and in that moment, it was crystal clear that she was fucking with him.

Unfortunately for him, Charlie also knew him well enough to know exactly how to push his buttons.

The demon was about to give into her game and share a laugh, he really was. Until she brought up his nemesis.

"This place could use some touching up." Charlie smiled as she dragged a finger on the table and inspected it for dust. "Y'know, I'd figured you'd pick up a thing or two about maintenance from your little bestie. Seeing as you go out of your way to impress him."

Alastor froze. "My what now?"

"Your best friend, Vox?" She grinned, knowing she had won. "I mean seeing how close the two of you are I'd hope he would rub off on you a bit. It's obvious that you look up to him and all, it's very sweet- AAAAH!"

Yeah THAT was the last straw.

Alastor finally snapped and exploded into his demon form that filled the room. That was when Charlie made a break for the door only to be swept up by her feet by one of the demon's tendrils.

The princess hung upside down and couldn't help but laugh at the reaction she'd managed to pull from her friend.

Alastor, however, was not laughing. God he was pissed. It wasn't even noon yet and this brat had somehow managed to make him lose every morsel of composure he'd carefully sustained over the years. Only for her to laugh in his face once she got the reaction she wanted. Yeah, this is why Alastor never had kids.

"Oh, this is funny to you?" He growled, smiling angrily down at her. Which only seemed to make her laugh even harder.

The demon shrank back into his normal form. Breathing deeply as he regained his composure. Though still clearly pissed off.

As much as he hated to admit it, he appreciated his friend's mischievous behavior at times. Hell, most of the time he would play along with it and direct her antics towards any other demon in the hotel. It's always fun being on the other side of the joke, and no one really expects to be blind-sided by the same girl who farted sunshine and rainbows. But jeez she really knew how to work someone's nerves.

Alastor didn't want to hurt her even if he could. Of course not, she was one of his dearest friends at this point. But that didn't mean she was going to get away with this.

"Okay, sunshine." The demon hissed through his smile. "You want to laugh? I'll give you something to laugh about."

Alastor relished the split second that smirk was wiped off her face before it was replaced by the girls hysterical screams.

Charlie shrieked and thrashed violently as she felt the demon's claws scribble rapidly on the backs of her knees.

"NO-! NO- AL-AAAAAHAHAHA!!! WAIT!- NO-WAIT PLEHEHEEEHAHAHAAAAA!!!"

Another tendril came up to hold the girls arms together as he blindly flailed around. Charlie was ridiculously ticklish enough as it is, barely ever lasting a minute before being thrown into silent laughter. So needless to say, Alastor going straight for her death spot was just down right cruel.

"STOOP-!!! STOPSTOPSTOP PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!"

Tears began to form in her eyes as that horrible tingly feeling spread throughout her body. To lost in her hysterics to even beg the other for mercy.

Alastor was far from finished, but could tell the girl needed a breather. Stopping for a moment to pace around the room as his friend dangled upside down and caught her breath.

"Heavens, you don't understand how lucky you are that we're friends." He growled, still pacing back and forth in an attempt at releasing some of his energy. "I've torn apart souls for far less than half of what you've put me through today, so congratulations. Consider yourself blessed that you're to ridiculously sensitive for me to take all my anger out on you at once, otherwise we'd be here all day!"

Charlie didn't dare laugh at this point in fear of provoking the man again. Even upside down, she could feel his eyes prying at her, no doubt to gauge when she's had enough oxygen to continue his little torture session. She wondered if this is what it was like to be a victim of one of his broadcasts. God, she prayed he wouldn't get the idea to broadcast this as well.

The demon stalked back over to her once he's decided she's had enough time to recover.

Charlie panicked. Her mind racing to come up with anything that could pull her out of the grave she'd dug for herself. Maybe if she could just deflect the blame he'd leave her alone...?

"It was dad's idea!" She blurted out.

The deer stopped in his tracks. Silence filling the room as the two stared at one another.

Charlie fell to the floor as the tendrils holding her in place suddenly disappeared. She pushed herself up off the ground, knees still a bit wobbly from leftover tingles. Brushing herself off as she regained her senses.

"His idea?" Charlie hesitated, not so sure now if she had just made the situation better or worse.

"Umm...yeah?" She admitted sheepishly. "I- uh...I made a bet."

Alastor felt his eye twitch but stayed silent and let her continue.

"Yeah, so the deal was that if I could get you to snap before noon he'd take Vaggie and I out for lunch. Apparently he thinks it's really funny when you're mad, plus he knew you wouldn't hurt me but I'm not so sure it's worth it anymore." Charlie gave a nervous laugh.

The demon stared at her for a moment, watching her fidget nervously as he thought up new recipes for angel wings.He took a deep breath and gave his friend a sweet smile.

"Well, congratulations on winning your little bet dear." He said, patting her head sweetly. "I do hope you all enjoy your little outing, hopefully it'll be worth all the trouble it caused you."

Charlie scratched the back of her head nervously and avoided his gaze. "Yeah. Sorry about all of that. Guess I just got carried away. No hard feeling, right?"

"Oh not at all, dear!" Alastor grinned. "Trust me, I understand going to great lengths in order to win a bet. Although, I can't say I think it's all that fair that I took my anger out of you instead of the person who put you in this situation in the first place."

Charlie looked at him confused. "What do you mean?"

Alastor laughed. "I mean, it's only fair that your father suffer the same consequences you endured. Seeing that he had just as much of a hand in this as yourself."

The girl smiled, recognizing her friend's playful tone. "Ooooh. Haha, sounds good to me if it lets me off the hook. Just don't hurt him, deal?"

"Deal."

A few moments later...

It was half passed noon when Lucifer heard his phone ring. Charlie had texted him to meet her in her bedroom for details.

The king excitedly teleported to his destination, politely knocking first before being told to come in.

The man couldn't see a thing upon opening the door. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off making the room pitch black.

He squinted his eyes as he felt the wall for the light switch but just as he reached it, a hand snatched his arm and yanked him into the room. The door slammed shut behind him and he was thrown into complete darkness.

"Uh, Charlie?" He called out and jumped when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind.

"It's me! It's me." Charlie laughed, still hugging her father.

"Oh jeez, kiddo Don't scare me like that." He laughed. "What's going on? Why ya got all the lights off?"

"No reason." She laughed.

Yeah something was up.

"I won the bet by the way." She continued. "But I did run into a bit of trouble with Alastor after he finally snapped. And I maaaaay or may not have sold you out."

"What happened?! Did he hurt you? I swear I'll kill that prick if he so much as-AAH!!!" The king was cut off as he felt another set of hands place themselves on his sides.

"Not exactly." The voice said in front of him.

Lucifer's eyes had adjusted just enough to make out that red prick in front of him but before he had the chance to cuss him out, the demon began rapidly squeezing his sides.

He managed to hold in his laughter as he struggled to free his arms as Charlie moved them behind his back. Still holding him tight in her traitorous 'hug'.

"What the fuhuhuck are you two doing?!"

"You got sold out." Alastor chimed as he began kneeding his thighs. "Poor Charlie had to suffer the consequences of making me lose my temper, an impressive feet might I add, and spilled everything about your little bet."

"Sorry dad, my hands were tied. Alastor tickled me for so long I almost passed out." She laughed apologetically.

"You lasted a minute and a half, I counted." Alastor corrected and Charlie was grateful no one could see her face grow red.

Meanwhile Lucifer was not listening to any of this, to focused on keeping his laughter in as those claws continued to pinch up and down his legs no matter how hard he kicked.

A moment passed and the King was still holding out much to the demon's annoyance. Charlie was honestly giggling more than her father was.

Alastor looked up at his friend. "Say Charlie, do you think bad knees run in the family?"

Charlie stuttered a bit and felt her face grow hot again. "I-I uh-no! I mean...I don't know."

The demon shrugged as he fought to get a grip on the angel's thrashing legs. "Well, only one way to find out I suppose." And with that, he began scribbling his claws on the back of one of Lucifer's knees just as he's done to Charlie earlier.

"AAAAAAHHH!!! AAAHAHAHAHA- QUIHIHIT!!! QUIHIHIT IT YOU AAHAHAHA-!"

"I guess it does!" Alastor laughed triumphantly.

A few more minutes of this passed by, Lucifer handling the torture a lot better than his daughter had.

Charlie was sure Alastor could go on all night, but she was promised a nice outing with her father and girfriend plus her arms were getting tired.

"Okay, Alastor I think that's enough."

"Oh Dear, I was just warming up!" The demon pouted. "Very well. I suppose he's had his fill." And with that Charlie released the grip she had on the other angel, carefully following him to the floor as he caught his breath.

"You..." Lucifer huffed and pointed to the radio demon. "Are so dead."

Charlie looked a bit startled at her father's tone and quickly gave Alastor the signal to run.

He wasn't fazed in the slightest, of course.

"Yes, yes. You can maim me all you like but i do believe you promised Charlie a nice little outing did you not?" He smiled.

Lucifer huffed as Charlie helped him to his feet.

"You're lucky Charlie considers your dumbass a friend." He shot back.

The demon gave a satisfied hum before waving the two off and disappearing into the shadows.

And yes, the rest of the evening was lovely. The three angels enjoyed their time together outside the hotel for once. But Lucifer couldn't help but think of all the ways he was going to get back at the demon when the time had come. He was a man of his word, after all.

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 1/8

Part 2

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

"Just hang tight baby, we're almost there."

You were coming home. After three years away, you were finally coming home. The delay was mainly due to your son, whose birth surprised many. First and foremost, his father's side of the family, as they made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with you or your son. But then came the letters. The many letters that went against everything you had come to believe about your life.

"If you would give me a chance to be a good father, I would be." One of the letters read. The one that currently burned in your pocket convinced you to make this trip. It made you agree to stay for the summer. To let your son finally get to know his father.

"Look, Nemo, that's Vovó!" You pointed towards the docks ahead, where a red Toyota was spotted in the distance. Standing next to it was an old woman, grey haired and tanned skin. Just like you remembered her.

Your heart was beating heavily once the ferry approached the docks. Your son clung to your neck, a look of terror in his eyes as they fixiated upon the water below.

"It's okay, baby. We're almost there." You got off the boat carrying your son in your arms. The old woman standing by the red Toyota stood clenching her heart, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Meus anjos. Vocês estão em casa." (My angels. You're home.)

"Vovó!" You rushed towards your grandmother, wrapping your arms around her with your son still pinned to your hips.

"When did you get so big? Both of you?" She pinched your son's cheeks, having only gotten to know his face through the photos you've sent. "A damn shame." She muttered, stepping back to get a better look at him.

"What?"

"He looks just like his father. Jet black hair and a pair of gorgeous eyes. All that's missing are the tattoos."

"Vovó."

"Oh give me a break." She waved and carried your son towards her run down car. "Come on now, everyone's waiting for us."

By everyone, you thought your grandma meant your closest relatives, not the entire neighborhood in the village you grew up in.

"Welcome home!"

They greeted you with presents and banners. And the neighborhood children gifted you with drawings of the island, seen from the outskirts of São Sebastião.

"Please, please, let us hold the baby?"

Your son was passed around between relatives like a hot potato. The many new faces overstimulating him. Nevertheless, it was funny how they all said the same thing.

"Dear God, the child has his fathers eyes."

"All that's missing are the tattoos."

"That's what I said."

"Vovó, please." You sighed.

"What? The boy does have his father's eyes."

"Let's hope that he doesn't have his father's issues." Someone added, which made you put an end to passing around of your son. It had been a long journey from São Paulo, and the two of you needed to freshen up before dinner.

It was odd, being back home. You had always loved the ocean. The untamable sea. It was natural for you as an island girl to spend your time in the water almost every day. The taste of salt would linger on your lips from morning til noon and it wouldn't be until the ocean's color shifted from blue to red that you would wade back towards shore, making way for another day. However, it was a long time ago that you could call yourself an island girl. Since then, that girl has become a woman, dreaming of becoming a nurse by studying in the vibrant city of São Paulo.

Your pregnancy had been a setback for sure, but not the end of your dreams. It was your fault for getting caught up in your past by returning to a love you clearly lost a long time ago. That's why his letters were even more confusing to you. At least the timing of them, considering how things ended between you and your son's father. The letters weren't just a plead to become involved in your son's life again. They were also a declaration of love. Love for you.

"Leaving you behind is one of my biggest regrets in life. I've loved you since before I could even express what love was. And so I've carried the burden of letting you go like a burning chip on my shoulder. Missing the birth of my son only increased the heat of it. To think that you had to go through all of it alone breaks my heart. With all sincerity, please forgive me. Yours truly, Gabriel."

"Querida?"

There was a light knock on the bathroom door. Your grandmother poked her head in, smiling at the sight of your son washing his little hands in the bathroom sink.

"We'll be right there vovó."

"I'm just letting you know." She said, her smile fading a little as she shifted to look at you.

"Letting me know what vovó?"

"Gabriel is here, dear. I'm afraid he just arrived."

"Oh."

He was early. You knew that he was coming, however, hoped to give your son a bit more time to adjust to his new home for the summer. Nevertheless, tomorrow might as well be today.

"Tell him we' ll be right there." You nodded.

Part 2