#or like no matter how much they try it doesn't seem to add up

[octo-blobs]

hi i cant remember what notes are but here we go.

for many a reason i very deeply resonate with the found family aspect of 8path and have spent a lot of time daydreaming about it - so a Hefty Chunk of what i've taken from it includes projection and indulgent headcanoning. i loved english literature at school so i like to think my analysis skills have aided me in keeping the characters i ship in a recognisably canon-compliant state, but because i'm just stubbornly gay i stop caring whether it makes sense to then add copious amounts of romance on top. ~anyway~.

alfion. i originally didn't like alfyn! my first experience of him was the english dub and i found his sonic-like mannerisms annoying. after experiencing the game in full, however, and becoming very attached to therion, i figured that he was a great asset to those who needed a soft-hearted-strongman. i love what the narrative offers regarding how it shapes these characters and would make a seriously long post about analysing every character i talk about here If People Cared -- for now, though, i'll try to keep it short. (NARRATOR VOICE: he did not keep it short.)

i just love the foils between alfyn and therion. therion, whose heart stutters and bleeds the truth of his loneliness; a man who lives in the shadows only to yearn for the love that light holds. alfyn, who from his trauma took the lesson of embracing life with open arms; a man who would rather unintentionally shepherd in evil than to deny a second chance. they embody such a deep sense of hurt/comfort whilst also curating a casual, warm and boyish sense of true friendship together.

therion benefits so deeply from all 7 of his playable companions, and in alfyn's case, i think it's deeply tied to his free-falling honesty. not only does alfyn portray his values strongly - he also does utterly risk-intensive and sometimes borderline stupid things because he believes in his chosen role as a force for change. his story arc seems to show him doubling down on these decisions, and there are several points at which therion's existence as a societal menace and ~bad person~ can be seen as relevant to them. whether or not you should help a no-good thief; whether or not a person is evil because of their past and circumstances that changed the trajectory of their life; where you should draw the line and what you should punish; whether you should give up on a person who nobody else can seem to help. to me, alfyn seems to decide that he'll be somewhat of an objective and benevolent (as much as a human with a strong protective complex can be) shepherd to the weak and forsaken, taking consequences of his actions as a workplace risk instead of a curse to his worth. therion, however ... this man is mired in shame and has no sense of self-worth that doesn't come down to spiteful pride in the abilities that darius praised & his self-preserving spite. he gave his heart to someone and he thinks, for the most part, that he need not ever get past the pain it caused him, lest it make him weak all over again. because being weak hurt - being powerless hurt. and being chucked off a cliff by someone you would've burned the world with... *really* hurt.

from therion's standpoint he is seen by others as undeserving and, for the longest time, i don't think it matters to him whether or not that assessment is true. his way of compartmentalising the way society treats him is to do what he needs for survival regardless, because there are a hundred more evil things than he himself is capable of - as, iirc, an orphan, and a pauper - but i don't think this leads to an appreciation for his worth. it's so tarnished by darius, the fallout of which probably confirmed pre-conceived notions such as 'don't trust anyone', 'always account for yourself and forsake others before they forsake you', 'the whole world is more likely to turn you in than to hold your hand'. honestly, i see in therion such overflowing yearning that he doesn't *fully* live by these notions - he can't cut himself off from the love he longs for because he's not the kind of no-good scoundrel he thinks he belongs with. whereas darius and plenty of other criminals ingame sow cruelty and are cutthroat with their relationships, therion seems to be capable of empathising with a broader spectrum of people (as seen, to me, by his ability to sympathise with cordelia & thus the untouchable bourgeoise he so loathes). alfyn's open-minded worldview allows therion to be present in the life of a thoroughly kind person without either feeling threatened or like he's in disguise. from there, he's able to observe the light he's yearned for and, in time, this could blossom into a love that finally grants him security.

god i could talk about them forever, but i also have a headcanon that i've held close to me for a few years now. based on the map and where therion's attempted murder takes place, i've ruminated on the idea that therion could have ended up getting medical treatment in clearbrook. after tumbling down the jagged, steep lines of bolderfall's mountainside, he could have broken his fall as the terrain blushed green with grass and trees and underbrush. dry from the desert sun and on the brink of death, a near sightless therion dragged himself towards the sounds of rushing water. the current dragged his limbs - some broken, others just weak and covered in wounds - further down the river. as therion and alfyn were both younger, i wonder if zeph would have lead the treatment that therion received once he was pulled from the bubbling waters and rushed onto the medieval equivalent of an operating table. the immediate question is, "wouldn't they recognise each other once they met in the future?" - and i don't think therion would want himself to be known, treated or kept in such a generous home. most apothecaries are paid in-universe - a service therion was beyond sure he couldn't pay for. to me, therion is apprehensive about returning to clearbrook on his travels but *needs*, for whatever narrative reason, to pass through and receive apothecary aid. alfyn recognises the white hair and skittish tendencies, recalling little other than a patient who picked from zeph's coinpurse and ran. for the longest time, he never brings up that he belives - knows - that person was therion. he wrestles with it, deciding that he indeed wants to see just what kind of person therion is, which eventually leads him to discover that he was right to trust & nurture him.

the therion i depict always has a snarled lip from a lasting scar, cleft from the incident, and i headcanon him suffering from lasting conditions, both physically and mentally, that actually alfyn would be able to treat or provide relief from - continuing the proof that he can and will be taken care of here; that there's no reason to be afraid; that he can scratch and protest all he likes, but he's in the hands of a man whose whole purpose (and joyfully so) is to make sure he has a space to heal.

god lmao i love them so much. i also see them both as trans but i also see a good portion of the casts of both 8path 1&2 as trans so it barely feels relevant. i just think its neat.

h'aanirose. primh'aan. it's a very similar story, though their personalities, goals and lives are led in very different manners to alfyn and therion. i certainly think there's a lot to add about lesbianism here, such as comparing primrose's relationships with women to those she has with men, as well as h'aanit's portrayal as a warrior woman and a blushing knight in the face of her alluring lady, but i probably wom't go into all of it.

primrose and yusufa was an extremely formative relationship. it, unfortunately, mirrored the one with her father and left her losing another deeply important person to murder. the kind of rage that rumbles in primrose's heart and thunders out into bursts of arcane shadow is not to be underestimated, in part because it left her so vulnerable to the puppeteering of simeon. in her eyes, she lost everyone she loved - and then, suddenly, in a way that made her once again feel like a child, she un-lost one of those people. forming a deep and lasting connection must be tough for her after the events of the game and thus i think the a certain travel banter line from the end of her story is representative of even more yearning than it seems on the surface. to h'aanit she suggests they could travel together in future, even commenting that she could protect h'aanit herself. to which, of course, the incredibly muscular pseudo-viking with axe-wielding biceps and a giant snow leopard says, 'dost thou not mean *i* coulde protecten *thee*?' i find this so incredibly cute. of course there's a huge aspect of prim's banter where she alludes to her physique & intimately informed commentary on men, which leads her to praise h'aanit for choosing neither of the 'two kinds of men' in chapter 2. however, the power of yuri in my heart takes this subtext and runs with it - when i talk about the deeper yearning of this interaction, what i'm referring to is the fact that the game gives us an insight into her thoughts and has her, like a stumbling shy lovebird, question why she didn't just outright admit she likes h'aanit's company. it's one of my favourite little things in the entire game because primrose has lived so much of her life as someone that she didn't want to be, but *had* to be in order to approach the truth and get closure for her grief. i think she knows that there's an aimless and unknowable path before her, and her old skills kick in. before she can simply ask for h'aanit to join her on this daunting endeavour, she finds herself trying to sweeten her words & make herself seem appealing as a companion. (seeing as prim can allure any gender, it highlights that alluring isn't just used in a sexual manner - though frequently that's how she's received by men & has more success playing into that across the board). i think this scene is emblematic of the effect h'aanit has on her, and i love gobbling it up.

primrose feels comfortable in letting h'aanit know that she feels safe with her very automatically, even when she's shy about asking for her company. h'aanit, to me, would make a lovely candidate for a person that primrose can deeply love & is less likely to lose to a cruel deception or death; i think the way in which h'aanit fends for herself is appealing in this manner. in turn, the sweet way in which they can exchange life lessons creates a foundation of support, which is both fantastic in a world where the men* in their lives are falling short of the roles they might otherwise occupy and a foundation for love that appreciates their strengths without regretting their weaknesses. (*z'aanta as a drunken & lighthearted mentor often scolded by his apprentice; primrose's lack of a present father figure or protector; the way h'aanit's story champions the presence of strong and/or skilled women; primrose chapter 1 villain who icr the name of cause he sucked; simeon as an older man in young primrose's life who preyed on her innocence and love for him). etc etc.

h'aanit is a learner. she may not start out with experience, and further on she finds herself flustered at several points when it comes to the mannerisms of cityfolk, but she's capable of understanding the wider picture. i think this is aided by the way in which she sees herself in the cycle of life, protecting the forest by stepping into it only where it can undo the superfluous presence of man. she doesn't get too involved in the habits of others unless they threaten the forest - an example is with therion and the way she just flat-out judges his nimble fingers, only to do nothing about it other than sass him out in ye olde. she is patient to see how things pan out, and can respect others enough to see where their actions will take them before stepping in. then, when she steps in, she is both graceful and noble, making her an incredibly romantic figure imo. i have, many a time, also thought about the way h'aanit is predominantly a melee (aside from summoning) fighter, with an emphasis on strategic timing for her skills, and prim is almost entirely a support. throughout the trauma and troubles that primrose faced prior to meeting any of the cast, she was unable to access enough power or knowledge to push forward and instead played a waiting game. i think it delights her to know that she can stand beside her battering ram of a girlfriend and fuel her, achieving her goals not through manipulation or abuse but through their shared vision.

my hands feel a bit numb from typing all of this out on my phone, which i didn't need to do but did anyways because it's very easy to fixate on these characters. i feel like i have a thousand things to say, all of them obsessive and excited because of an adoration for the character writing in these games. i love squeezing it for all of the gay stuff and i will never stop.

honourable ship mentions that i will go into detail about if anyone asks, *particularly* those for 8path2 - olberus, olberus but with erhardt too for yaoi reasons, throné x temenos t4t, throné x agnea (postgame +several years), knightlight, a polyamorous amalgamation of the above 8path2 characters (with the exception of temenos not being into women in my hc)... god. help. theres always more but im tired and now i want to replay the games. thank you op for my life

if you read this you get a gold star

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[merigoldaround]

Sometimes I have thoughts about my experience in the writing community, or about the struggles with writing etc, but I don't really know if there really is a safe space to share them.

[toothfa-1-ry]

JUST FATHER ACTIVITIES

Imagine in an alternative universe, somehow you and your baby daddy Thanos escape the games (don't ask me how) and you guys pay off all of your debts and have financial stability

Basically father! Thanos headcannons!!

First of all, thanos is a girl dad. Idc i do not make the rules you CANNOT and WILL not change my mind otherwise

After the games, irrelevant of whether you were also in the games with him or not, he'd quit his drug addiction and go to a rehabilitation for the sake of your daughter

You couldn't change him, but atleast your daughter could

Thanos would go with you to the gynae every single time without fail, he'd brag about it (very loudly) though

"Look" thanos points at all the patients in the waiting room in the gynae clinic "how many women do you see with their husband's accompanying them?"

"Thanos shut the fuck up" you'd hiss at him, while hitting his arm. The women around you guys giving you the stink eye which he proudly gave back

"I'm just saying the truth- is it a sin to speak the truth?!?"

Will brag to the doctor and nurses too

"Say doctor miss" he leans back at his chair with his head held up high "how many husband's accompany their wives to the clinic?"

"Oh well that depends, not all the time-"

*insert thanos's loud proud laugh, his head thrown back while you grimace*

"I'm the fucking best aren't i"

*insert your slow head shaking* "Yes babe, you sure are"

He was always protective of you, but it grew even stronger after he found out you were pregnant

The type to protect you from a pigeon if he felt like it looked at you for a second too long

"Wtf are you looking at you cross eyed motherfucker"

*glares at the pigeon from a distance"

The type of person to hyper fixated on whatever small movement you do cause he's doesn't want you to get hurt

"Oh be careful be careful" *Holds your hand* "hold my hand and dont let go, use your other hand on the railing"

Says that he doesn't need to read or watch those "pregnancy classes" or "how to take care of a new born" classes cause he's already fully prepared

You later find out that he signed up for one of those seminars online and attends those lectures at night while your asleep

Bro probably has even stronger baby fever than you do

Buys things for the baby and you

"Thanos.. what's that in your hand"

"It's a costume, a ironman costume"

"For?"

"Our daughter 🙄 duh y/n"

"Babe, she still isn't even born"

"I got you a costume too" *takes out a black widow costume that seemed a little too racey* "you should try wearing it now just incase-"

*he got hit by you for trying to get you pregnant again while you were pregnant*

Let's say nam gyu wasn't the slimy bitch he was in the series

Best GODFATHER ever. GOATED godfather, S TIER godfather

I already mentioned this but I'm sure Thanos and nam gyu would come up with names for the baby

I'm talking wack ass names that they genuinely find cool

The list of names would include marvel character names (cause cmon, the child's dad is literally called thanos) or rapper names

"Add cardi b on the list too"

"You know that's not her real name right?" Nam gyu asked, pausing before quickly scribbling the name down

"WHAT?!? Since when??"

I'm sure nam gyu even accompanied the two of you to the clinic atleast once or twice

He was banned from coming though cause him and Thanos together made too much noise

Whenever you and thanos are in public, it doesn't matter if your in a cafe or restaurant or if your just out for a walk

If he meets anyone and i mean anyone

He'd tell them that he was gonna be a dad

"Hey do you know that I'm gonna be a dad?" *points at you* "and that's the mom- she's carrying my baby"

"Sir I'm the waiter"

On the softer note though

Kisses you on the lips first and then kisses your stomach second before you both go to sleep

If you groan or even if he senses a inch of your discomfort he'll automatically try to figure out a way to make you feel in ease

Tries his best not to annoy you

(It doesn't always work cause being annoying is his entire personality trait but it's the effort that counts!!)

Ties your shoelaces for you cause you can't bend over

Traces shapes over your stomach while you both lie next to eachother

Reminds you how pretty you are everyday

"If I'm the legend Thanos, then I guess you would be a myth, cause only a face like yours could make a man like me want to quit"

"Your so corny"

But you wouldn't have it any other way

[dvchvnde]

PRAIRIE WOLF | prologue

domestic violence, abuse (not Price). unexpected pregnancy. implied age gap.

MASTERLIST. AO3

He's a regular at the diner you work at.

Sits in the same spot, orders the same thing. Doesn't say much, but—according to Elliot—he never does. English, too. A foreigner. But here longer than you've been. Grown roots. Stretched his legs.

He owns a cabin in the woods that be built with his bare hands, and does odd jobs around town wherever he's needed. Mostly carpentry. Woodwork. Only forty, Elliot says, and already semi-retired. Military grunt, though (and in a terrible, exaggerated cockney accent, he adds) back home.

Running from something, he surmises, and you try not to feel flayed under his heavy, pointed stare, offering little more than a shrug you hope is more blase than you feel and a flat, aren't we all? so what makes his marathon so special?

Comes by at five in the morning, fours hours into a twelve hour shift. Likes, what he calls, an English Breakfast.

He isn't like some of the men who show up after midnight, or in the early hours. Blue collar works hungry for more than rubbery pancakes and coffee. The ones who ignore the split in your lip, hidden under a thick coat of lipstick, the puffiness of your eye. Whispering oil-slick charm at quarter to three in the morning when the pregnancy test you stole from the dollarrama is still buried under bloodied toilet paper in the motel you've converted into a temporary home.

Price—John Price—stares at the mess of your pretty face and meets the ugliness head-on, eyes narrowed into something that might be suspicion. Askance. Wariness. Some amalgamation of what the fuck happened to you and don't bring that mess over to my table.

Quiet. In theory.

You've heard him talk—this low, growling thing; the misfire of an engine, a rumble that reminds you of the old Plymouth Fury your dad had. Dangerous. Men like him usually are.

Little girl fantasies spun into real life. Duct tape. Magnets to girls like you with all the broken pieces, fragile parts. And with the bruises bubbling under your skin—burst blood vessels, fist-sized—and the—

The kid, you suppose. Baby. You can't afford to get wrapped up into something like that no matter how many times you catch him staring.

Watching.

The other server always handles his order when he arrives. Since starting work here four months ago, you maybe had all of a single conversation when you floated through the diner in search of something to do.

more coffee? a glance. a grunt. yeah, love. I'll have some more.

So you ignore it. Him. Keep your head down and pour cup after cup to the other regulars who congregate and pretend you aren't living in a motel to escape a man who seems to prefer you bruised up and bloody. Who—

Knocked you up.

Your hand goes there. To your belly. Nauseous, suddenly, with the thought of it. This.

When you glance up, unease prickling across your nape, you catch him staring at you. At the hand still splayed over your stomach. Something frisson across his expression—whiplike: ripples over a lake—but it's too fast, fleeting, for you to catch. Tucked back inside the folds of his patented frown, the ever present crease between his thick, umbre brows.

John lifts his eyes from your ringless hand, the swollen index finger from when you made the mistake of pointing to the door, trying to stand firm with your luggage hidden in the bushes, and meets your gaze. Stares at you head-on. Implacable as always. Blank.

But—and it's so silly, really—for a moment, you thought it was hunger. Something heavy and dark. Possessive.

Then his head dips. A shallow nod. John looks away, eyes slanting towards the window as if he didn't have to tear his gaze away from your belly. From you.

Your heart is in your throat. This too thick, fragile thing thudding against your jugular. Hard to breathe, hard to swallow around it. In the way—

Outside, tires squeal against the pavement.

John tenses. A shadow falling over his brow, a tug on his lips hidden under thick, wry curls.

You don't know what it is until the familiar gurgle of an engine cuts through the silent diner.

He looks back at you as a door slams. A shout erupts.

Fear is a thick, oily sludge filling your lungs. Tarlike. Sticky molasses. It burns, corrosive, and eats away at your tissue until a hole forms, letting spill out inside of you. To your belly where it hardens into a ferric ball of panic.

You thought you had time. One last shift. Collect your paycheck and then run—

But he found you.

He bellows out your name, angry and a little slurred. Drunk. High. Like the passive, maltreated dog he turned you into, you follow the sound, cowing a little when you see him stumble into the diner, face collapsed into fury.

There's a clatter. The hollow echo of wood hitting linoleum. Screams, his yells. It's all muted in your head. Panic throbbing against your ears, stuffing them full of cotton.

His bruised, marled fist reaches for you—

But John gets there first. His broad stretch of his back filling your vision as he pushes himself into the empty space between you and this man, hands raised, catching his mangled fist in one and grabbing a handful of his shirt, tugging him closer. It's all raw, untameable anger as he huffs into the man's face, grinding the words out on a rough, animalistic snarl—

"Touch her again, and it'll be the last thing you ever fuckin' do."

Stress like this ain't good for the baby, the paramedic tells you, brown eyes dampening with a thick ring of sympathy as she turns over your wrist, and dabs cool, wet cotton over the welts on your skin.

She's pushing for you to press charges. Keeps swiping at your skin to unveil more of your hidden hurts to the police officer that holds an old kodak in his hands and snaps, snaps, snaps at every weakness, each vulnerability she offers up.

It'd be the smart thing to do. He's already being booked on assault, threats. Battery for hitting John on the shoulder, the only place he could reach, with the shovel left by the cooks to scrape the snow away from the spot they usually gather around to smoke. No one brings up the fact that John was choking the life out of him at the time, and the bruises around his neck—ugly red fingerprints—are easily ignored.

Adding domestic violence to the list of charges, she mutters, will keep him locked up. Away from you. Can file for a restraining order, the cop adds, scratching the back of his neck as the camera sits, poised and intrusive, in his other hand.

The problem is that you've been through this before.

Like mother, like daughter.

The knife twists a little deeper. Gouges out another pound of flesh lost to a broken home. Another cog in a ruinous system. Poor kid, below the poverty line, with a dad who sold drugs and mother who did them. Dime a dozen.

And with that comes the knowledge that his sentence will be lighter than they're alluding to—if he has one at all. Upstanding citizen before he got shackled in with the wrong crowd, the runaway. Trouble who breezed through and picked the son of an attorney in the big city some three hours away from this town, this dilapidated diner. Sinking claws in.

My son never drank or did drugs before, your honour—

He'll get off with a slap on the wrist because he's never been in trouble before.

Your dad, too—in jail for the weekend when your mother relented to the impassioned beseeches given to her by rookie cops who just wanted that arrest notch on their belt. Saw a judge on Monday. Prison too crowded for such a paltry offense.

The hurt, after, was always worse than what he went to jail for.

So. No. You won't press charges even though you know you should. It'll take too long and you don't plan on staying much longer. Not with your luggage packed in the trunk. The cheque shoved clumsily into your hands when the manager came out to make a fuss, angling a purpling finger in your direction—nothin' but trouble since the day you were hired—only to be stopped by the wall that is John Price, a snarl pulling up at his lips as he barked call the fuckin' police and, low, as if he didn't want you to hear, adding: you ever point your finger at her again like that, and I'll hang you from the goddamn rafters.

You're not sure why he's still here, standing watch. On guard. His bloodied, bruised hands shoved into his armpits as he paces back and forth like a caged tiger unaware the door has been open the whole time. Stalking. Taking measured, meaningful steps towards anyone who tries to come over—badge or not. Barking out orders. Lancing people with his glare when they tread too closely.

Good fucking samaritan, you think, eyes riveted on the blood drying over the gravel. Your head looping, weaving in arching circles as you try to contend with the fact that it somehow isn't yours, but his.

Maybe that's why he stays. Obligation. Civic duty. It makes you snort, and the paramedic glances at you sharply, assessing in that too thick, too kind, way of hers.

"You doin' okay, mama?"

And you wish she wouldn't call you that. Make it real. Mama. Your idea of motherhood, of mothers and moms and mamas, is a woman slumped on the couch, passed out after staying up all night talking to ghosts. Nails caked with the dust of percocets and restoril and oxycodone (oxycotton, she's always called it). Popping mouthful of pills in the morning, afternoon, evening, and night. An assortment to keep her functional—and asleep.

Nodding off in the middle of conversations. Or fighting it to stay high. Irritated and combative whenever she ran out, supply gone dry.

Toxic.

Neglectful—at best.

You can't think about what you'll end up doing to this kid with her blood in your veins. Her ghosts in your head.

John moves. A shadow in the corner of your eye. "'bout enough of that, don't you think?"

She backs up, startled by the aggression in his voice. "I just—"

You think you hate them both. "I'm fine."

She looks back at you, searching. Wanting that assurance, but whatever she's looking to find, it isn't there. You won't give it, and eventually she nods. Peels back. "Okay. If you feel any soreness at all, if anything changes, come to the hospital."

The nod is for her benefit only, and she takes it with a deep inhale.

It thins out after that. The cop and his camera leave, too, after making you take the paperwork needed to file charges. If you change your mind. His number in smeared blue ink on the back. The paramedics go after another futile round of are you sure you don't want to get checked out at the hospital that's decline with a shake of your head.

It's just you and Price now. Your beatup Saturn three spots away from his truck—an old Ford you hadn't been expecting a man like him to drive, with his thick Levi jacket and his steel-toed boots. Standing there with an armful of paper that's going to go in the trash, you're not sure what to do. How to untangle yourself from the claws of this vicious bear that seems content to loom over you like an unasked for cloud, glaring down at you from the bridge of his nose. Expression pinched, like he's displeased. Mad.

You've had enough of angry men, though, and you turn, offering a hollow smile that works it's way around your mouth like a grimace. "Guess I should head home—"

"Running, mm?"

You blink. "Sorry?"

He leans down, all grit and blunt teeth. "That your plan? Runnin' away from all'a this? Find another town. Another motel."

Another man.

He doesn't say it, but it's there. The implication. The idea. It rankles down your spine, a whitehot ooze of shame. Of anger.

"You don't know me," you spit, all anger and indignation. Embarrassment so sharp, it cuts. "You don't know anything about me."

He rocks back on his heel, mouth flattening into an even line. "No, I don't. But I know your type."

"You—"

The indignity is increased tenfold when he meets your ire with an impassive stare, so firm in his assessment of you that he doesn't even bulk when you glare at him. When you rage in quiet fury, shoulders shaking.

"You'll run," he continues, bulling over the vitriol that stutters out in broken squeals of anger. "You'll find a new place. And it'll be fine for a little while but then you'll end up in the same situation because that's all you know, isn't it? S'why you're not pressing charges. Why you got your bag in your back seat. The slightest pressure and you bolt—straight into the same predicament you're in now."

"It's not my fault—"

"No," he grinds the word, firm and sure, and it snatches you by the throat because no one has ever agreed with you on that. It's not your fault. It's just—

"—all you know."

"What am I supposed to do differently, huh? Stay and press charges that won't stick? Wait for him to get out, frothing at the mouth for revenge? Yeah, right," you scoff, rolling your eyes up towards the stale sky. "End up as another statistic? Or—"

Like your mother. It quiets you. Snuffs the flames. All you feel is scraped raw. Hollowed out. Empty and hitting and—

"So you'll just run your whole life? Until it catches up to you, mm? What happens when someone finds you in a place you can't run? When you're all alone, and cornered?"

It tastes like defeat. Resignation. "You think I haven't thought of that before?"

From the corner of your eye, you see him shrug. "Got yourself into a little mess, but it ain't the end of the world. Jus' got to fix it. Can't do that when you run."

"And what's your solution? Find another job, hope that his charges stick? He—"

Drained you financially. Beat you bloody.

You shake your head. "The best thing to do is to leave. I'll be smarter, I'll—"

He scoffs. You ignore it, hands shaking.

"I can't. I just—I can't."

"Come stay with me," he says. Just like that. Stay with me. The sky is blue. The grass is green. Come stay with me. "Got a spare room."

"I don't even know you—"

"People rent to strangers all the time."

"I don't have a job. Money. I can't pay you—"

"Been needin' a receptionist for some time. Pay is fair. Hourly."

You blink, eyes hot. Wet. You feel the sharp edge of hope digging in, that deadly, terrible thing that only ever falls apart when you finally relax.

"Just like that?"

He nods, sharp and firm. "Jus' like that."

"I have a kid," you blurt out, panicked. This conversation is getting away from you. Slipping through your fingers. And the worst is that it sounds so good. Too good. "I'm—I'm pregnant," you add like he doesn't already know. Hadn't heard you mutter it to the paramedic hours ago.

The look he levels you with is an incendiary thing. You feel it in your chest. Deadcentre. "I know," he rasps, head bending down closer to you. "Doesn't change anythin'."

"How could it not?"

"How should it?" He counters.

"In a few months, when the baby is here—"

"I won't change my mind."

"You say that now," you breathe, pulse thudding in your ears. "But when it's screaming in the middle of the night, and—"

His hand reaches out slowly, like he's trying not to startle a horse. Fingers grazing your arm, warm and rough, before closing around your wrist. The one that's bruised and sore. Swollen in his hand. Its done with measured purpose, confidence, that the panic doesn't have time to surge. Instincts too incipient to keep up with the sure, steady way he winds around you.

With his hand on your wrist, fingers folding over the hurt—hiding them—he leans down, thumb stroking along your skittish, unraveling pulse, and makes you meet his stare. Open, maybe, for the first time since you met him. All raw want, naked truth. The bare, fractured look is enough to steal the air in your lungs, snuffing out the innate protests that spume whenever someone offers any sort of help or charity. The no crushed under his heel.

"m'a man of my word," he low, drawing the words out. "I'll be there for the cryin' and the dirty diapers and the sleepless nights."

"And when I can't work for you?"

His lips quirk. "I offer better MAT leave than most places. Reckon you could even do the bloody job from bed."

"Price, that's—this is insane—"

"John," he grunts, giving another shrug before peeling away from you. "Savin' me the trouble of talking to these idiots. Ain't nothin' crazy about that."

"I could be a horrible person. A murderer. Rob you blind, and leave you with you nothing."

It has the opposite effect of scaring him off. If anything, he looks amused. Squares his shoulders, stands to his full—intimidating, impressive—height. Stares down at you with a brow quirked and strange gleam in his eyes.

"Think I can handle myself, love. And if you wanna rob me, bite the hand, so to speak, then I promise you, you won't like the consequences."

You swallow. His tone sparks against your sense of self-preservation, and you fight the urge to take a step back. To put distance between yourself and this grizzly-like man with blunt teeth and sharp claws.

He senses your hesitation. Must because he quiets, shoulders sinking. Hand warm on your skin, giving a slight squeeze before he lets go. You ignore the urge to chase that heat again, and hide a shiver behind a shift.

"How 'bout a test ride, mm? A trial. Stay for a few weeks and then decide if you still want to leave."

Too good to be true. You know this deep down in your marrow. Every instinct inside of you rebelling against this, screaming trap, it's a trap. But there's a truth to what he says, and maybe if you weren't pregnant, you would have flipped him off and ran because men like him aren't kind to girls like you unless they have a reason to be.

You're just not sure what he has to gain in all of this. Why he put himself between you and harm without so much as a sparing glance. Stayed, too, and barked at everyone who got too close. A thunderous shadow full of teeth.

And maybe it's that. The blood concealing into a thick, pulpy plum over the split of his knuckles, the blood on the gravel that isn't yours, the goosebumps rising over the spot he touched, colder than the rest of your skin, that makes you quieten under his heavy stare. Softening into something agreeable. Unreasonable. Instincts shoved into a box.

So you nod and let him place his hand over the small of your back, guiding you to his truck with a firm nudge. Say anything when he helps you in, hands fastening the seatbelt with a clipped I'll be back when he finishes, keeping his wary eyes on you even as he moves quickly towards your car, grabbing your suitcase from the back. Promises to get your car later, too. Bring it back to his house.

And yours, too, he adds, glancing your way after he tosses the suitcase in the backseat, searching for something you're not sure he'll find. So you look away, staring at the dust on the dashboard as he rounds the truck, and slips into the front seat. It smells like him. Fresh leather and the wild. Cedar and moss. Tobacco. Something heady. Masculine. Soaked sage. Loam. Gasoline.

You lean back on the headrest, breathing it in. Trying not to think.

You'll keep your luggage packed. The keys in the ignition. When whatever it is he's planning comes to the forefront, you'll be ready to run.

But right now—

You just want to sleep. Your jaw aches. Your wrist. There's a knot in your stomach—not good for the baby—and it thickens each time you look at his bloodied knuckles curled loosely over the steering wheel, the other on the stick. Close enough that you can feel the heat bleeding into your knee. All fire and spite, and—

Touch her again, and it'll be the last thing you ever fuckin' do.

"Get some rest," he grunts, eyes slanting towards you in a brief, heavy flick. "I'll stop and get some food soon, too, but it's a two hour drive to mine. And you look dead on your feet, sweetheart."

Love. Sweetheart. I won't change my mind.

You swallow down the protest that swells, the lingering residuum of self-preservation that won't let you bear your neck just yet, and offer a slow nod, blaming the easy submission on fatigue. These aches and pains that weep, tender to the touch.

Your eyes slip shut against your better judgement, the warm interior of the truck, his smell, bleeding a sense of soporific comfort you can't remember the last time you ever felt. Just a quick nap, you think. Long enough to rest your eyes—

It's swallowed under the deluge of exhaustion that rushes through when your shoulders drop, lax. He mutters something, but it's awash under the seafoam that fills your ears, lapping waves dragging you further and further away from shore. Something that sounds like girl good but you can't be sure. Hypnagogia is a terrible a thing that likes to spin dreams, play pretend in the cradle of your subconsciousness until the lines between reality and fantasy blur. Ignoring it is easier than admitting that it floods you with a warmth so deep, sweat gathers along your hairline. Feverish and sickly sweet.

Fingers dance along the edge of your brow, rough and coarse, and it's a devastating thing, isn't it? All this tenderness along the broken edges of yourself, nails grazing the fractures like they can be fixed, pushed back into place, and not as if they're about to shatter. It makes you want to lash out even though you can't feel your body anymore, stuck between worlds of wake and rest. Later, maybe, when the phantom press doesn't feel so sweet you'll snap—broken jaw and brittle teeth—at his hand until he remembers to never touch you again. A risk he won't take.

But with the knot in your belly, a baby there, too, and a body more contusion than flesh, you let it happen. Mewl, maybe, a quiet little slip of a thing, and curve into the palm resting over your cheek. Small and docile, leaching comfort as fast as you can before you remember yourself.

in the moonglade, you murmur thank you and swallow down a rough, painful sound when he scoffs under his breath, and says ain't got nothin' to thank me for, sweetheart.

[uzurakis]

hii again!! I’m here to request a Drabble/headcannon (doesn’t matter to me :3) where the reader gets approached by two strangers n one of them goes ‘hi my friend thinks you’re cute’ and motions to their friend next to them even though the jjk men (yuta and Megumi but feel free to add anyone else!) is literally RIGHT next to them (this happened during lunch a week ago n all my friends laughed at me 😭😭😭)

WHEN A STRANGER CALLS YOU CUTE IN PUBLIC!

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. hi baby! i supposed you’re the same nonnie that requested the stalker one? thank you for trusting me with your requests cause yours are always enjoyable to write and your ideas are *french kiss*. i hope ya like this one and please if you have any ideas you wanna share, hmu! ill always write yours bby. mwaah xoxo

hey, excuse me! my friend thinks you’re cute . .

ITADORI YUUJI. you exchanged a surprised glance with itadori, who cracked a smile sheepishly. "oh yeah? thanks," he replied, clearly missing the implication. the stranger nudged their friend, urging them to speak up. "uh, yeah," offering a nervous smile. "you're really cute."

your boyfriend only chuckled, oblivious to their intentions. "right? my girlfriend is the cutest!” he said proudly, pinching your cheeks infront of them. “yuu, we’re in public..”

the strangers shared a bewildered look, realizing that their attempt to strike up a conversation with you had been unintentionally thwarted. "uh, yeah, you’re really lucky," the stranger managed to mumble before they awkwardly excuse themselves and slipped back into the crowd.

you and itadori watched them go, bemused expressions on your faces. "did you catch what they were trying to do?" you asked, stifling a laugh. itadori shook his head, still clueless. "nah, but it doesn't matter. i already know who the cutest one here is," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek, causing you to giggle at his oblivion.

GOJO SATORU. before you could respond, gojo stepped forward, subtly clearing his throat. you shot him a puzzled look, wondering what he was up to. “yeah? well, she's taken," declaring at once, voice laced with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

the strangers kept eyeing you curiously, seemingly undisturbed by the statement he made. "oh really? too awful," one of them remarked, maintaining a smile.

gojo raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with you. it was clear they weren't getting the hint. with a sigh, he cleared his throat again, this time louder, as he firmly took your hand and started to lead you away. “sorry, folks, but we're kinda busy," your boyfriend said with a charming smile, gently steering you in the opposite direction.

as you both walked away, gojo grinned down at you. "just making sure they know who you belong to, darling,” he said, pulling you closer as you continued your walk through the path.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you immediately glanced nervously at megumi beside you. however, your boyfriend remained silent, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the strangers.

unsure of how to reply, you gave the stranger a hesitant smile. megumi didn't express his jealousy, but it was obvious that he was still very much in the dark about it. the stress was literally radiating off of him. "um, thank you," you managed to murmur, feeling awkward under megumi's scrutiny.

the strangers seemed unfazed by megumi's silence, continuing to chat amicably with you. they asked questions, trying to engage you both in conversation, but megumi remained aloof, his attention solely focused on you. you glanced at him, catching the tightness in his jaw and the furrow in his brow. he was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't make a move to pull you away from the strangers. rather, he only stood there, sulkily contemplating.

sensing his unease, you subtly shifted closer to him, hoping to offer some reassurance. megumi glanced down at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly before returning to the strangers, "hey, you done talking?" he shot at the strangers with thinly veiled irritation.

he then sighed, a hint frustration crossing his features. without another word, he gently took your hand and pulled you away from the conversation, his grip firm but not forceful. as you walked, you stole a glance at megumi, finding his expression softened slightly, his jealousy dissipating now that you were out of the strangers' reach. “i didn’t feel it like has to be said, but,” a tint of red swelled on his face, his eyes denying your gaze. “yeah, you’re always pretty. and if you need someone to say it, just,”

“just ask me, okay?”

YUTA OKKOTSU. you responded with a timid smile, sensing yuuta's comforting presence beside you. he let out a soft chuckle, his laughter soothed the situation as you thanked the compliment. "i appreciate it.”

yuuta's casual reaction didn’t appear to dismiss the strangers, as they continue to strike up a discussion as though you’ve been friends for years. while yuuta stays a silent yet watchful presence, they kept the questions going.

after a while, yuuta's smile widened, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he glanced at his watch. "it was fun talking to you guys," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "but me and my girlfriend need to be somewhere else."

you blinked in surprise at his sudden intervention, but the strangers took it in stride and finally offering their farewells. after they walked away, you turned to yuuta, curiosity piqued by his unexpected assertiveness.

"you’re not going to say anything about it?” you commented, impressed by his ability to not get jealous or anything else in between. yuuta brushed your hair, his gaze warm with affection. "cause they weren’t wrong though. you are the cutest.”

@uzurakis — reqs are open! <3

[p0orbaby]

R thinks Alexia is embarrassed to be dating her because R hasn't met her friends when in reality she doesn't want the team to scare R away.

-

The first thing you notice when Alexia walks through the door is her expression. A mix of contentment and exhaustion, like she’s just finished saving the world but could still go another round if she had to. Her hair is tied back in that effortlessly perfect way that you’ve never quite managed to replicate, no matter how many YouTube tutorials you’ve watched.

“Hey,” she says, setting down a bag of groceries on the counter like it didn’t cost her at least fifty euros for whatever organic nonsense she’s insisted on this week.

“Hi,” you reply, the word clipped, your voice low.

She pauses, turning to look at you with that face. The one that says she’s already analysing the situation and will probably win whatever argument is about to unfold. You hate that she’s good at this. You hate even more that you’ve already lost, but you press forward anyway.

“So,” you start, trying for casual but landing somewhere closer to brittle, “I was just thinking. You know how we’ve been dating for, oh, six months now?”

Her eyebrows lift, just a fraction, but she says nothing.

“And how I still haven’t met any of your teammates?”

There’s the flicker of understanding in her eyes, followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. You press on, emboldened.

“Not even one,” you add, holding up a finger for emphasis. “Not Irene, not Keira, not even Ingrid, and she seems like she wouldn’t hurt a fly”

Alexia sighs, rubbing a hand over her face, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. “It’s not like that,” she says.

“Oh, isn’t it?” You fold your arms, leaning back against the counter. “Because it kind of feels like you’re embarrassed of me”

That gets her. She blinks, her mouth opening and closing as if she’s trying to form words but failing spectacularly. You’re on a roll now.

“I mean, it’s fine if you are,” you say, with a shrug that’s entirely too casual. “I get it. I’m not, like, a professional athlete or anything. I don’t even know what half those drills you talk about are. I had to Google what a rondo was”

“Cariño,” she interrupts, her voice soft but firm, and it derails you just enough to make you falter.

“What?”

She steps closer, her hands finding your hips in that way that always makes your resolve crumble. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I could never be embarrassed of you”

“Then why—”

“Because,” she cuts you off again, her forehead resting lightly against yours now, “my teammates are… a lot”

You blink at her, thrown. “A lot?”

She nods, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. “Yes. Imagine a group of very competitive, very opinionated people who spend way too much time together. Now imagine them interrogating you about every single detail of our relationship”

“I think I could handle it,” you say, but your voice wavers just enough to betray you.

Alexia smirks, pulling back just slightly so she can meet your gaze. “Could you handle Mapi trying to figure out your star sign within five seconds of meeting you?”

“I—”

“Or Patri asking you whether you think pineapple belongs on pizza?”

“I mean—”

“And then there’s Aitana, who will definitely ask if you’ve ever made me cry”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. She raises an eyebrow like she’s already proven her point.

“Okay,” you admit after a beat. “That does sound… intense”

“Exactly.” She presses a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back, as if that seals the conversation. “I just don’t want them to scare you off”

“Alexia,” you say, grabbing her wrist before she can fully retreat. “I’m not going anywhere”

She looks at you then, her expression softening in that way that makes your chest ache. “I know. But you’re too good to deal with all that. At least not yet”

“Not yet?”

“Maybe next month,” she teases, a rare grin breaking across her face.

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[mylittleredgirl]

buckle up folks, it's deep dive about chakotay hours!

season 2, "initiations"

@isthereintruthnobeauty1968 asked a question about chakotay in this post about the scene above:

for an infamous leader of an anti-federation rebel group he seems to firmly believe in its authority and ideals And to have (at least externally) adjusted to the blended crew seamlessly. what's the deal?

see, i don't think chakotay ever wanted to be a rebel, or even a leader for that matter.

he wanted to be a starfleet officer.

season 2, "tattoo"

chakotay enrolls in the acadamy as a teenager as young as he legally can ("tattoo"). he tells seven ("one small step") that he joined starfleet because of his love of paleontology, and he only turned away from that out of responsibility to the maquis and now to voyager.

[get a snack for this one y'all]

season 6, "one small step"

it doesn't come up often, but whenever chakotay talks about his pre-voyager starfleet career, it's always about first contact or archaeology. in "emanations," he compares their exploration of an alien burial moon to a mission he went on as an ensign, all while demonstrating his anthropology expertise. add that to him nerding out in "blink of an eye," "one small step," the dinosaur episode, and a bunch of other examples, he's a social scientist both by training and by inclination.

in the original star trek, they had an "A&A officer," a specialist in archaeology, anthropology, and ancient civilizations:

tos season 2, "who mourns for adonais?"

we never hear that term again, but that's the role chakotay often fills on voyager, and he's very happy whenever he gets to do it.

now, realistically, i don't know how much time pre-maquis chakotay would have spent in a blue uniform, because those skills would not make him an obvious choice to lead a maquis cell. ro laren sets up his character (unnamed) in tng as a tactical specialist who resigns to join the maquis:

tng season 7, "preemptive strike"

(which is a very polite and noble way to do it, as compared to eddington's defection in ds9.)

if he was in fact ro’s teacher (i think so, despite a stardate conflict in some later dialogue), it seems very in-character to me that chakotay could have started out pursuing a sciences path before showing an aptitude for piloting, strategy, and/or command. given what we know of him, regardless of his own passions or preferences, if a senior officer noticed his skills and encouraged him to change career tracks, he would do it.

teen angst era aside, he respects authority. he argues against dogmatic ideology when it's inflexible to the needs of the moment, but he likes working within a command hierarchy, and for better or worse, he is easily swayed by charismatic leaders.

season 1, "caretaker"

not only does he yield to janeway's authority on voyager before she even asks him to, and then molds himself into the kind of first officer he thinks will help her most, he does the same thing with annorax in "year of hell." tom is the voice of ethical conscience and reason in that episode, and he organizes the rebellion—against chakotay's orders!

there's so much going on here:

season 4, "year of hell part 2"

despite his father's perceptions of him as a contrarian, chakotay only rebels as a last resort. he would genuinely rather not. he clearly talked about the maquis cause with ro and others before he left—and i bet that's why he resigned to a starfleet admiral in person, to make one last appeal. his preference is to try and change systems from within.

not to west wing about it, but chakotay is only The Guy when he has to be—he wants to be the guy the guy counts on.

(hot take: with how he rationalizes the calculated sacrifices annorax is making in "year of hell," i don't think chakotay would have left starfleet for the maquis if it wasn't personal. but it was personal, so here we are!)

maquis chakotay is a disillusioned idealist, but he's never that disillusioned. he believes in the stated ideals of the federation, sometimes more than janeway does.

season 3, "scorpion part 1"

and it's a fundamental character trait that he looks for the best in people and situations, often to his own detriment (tuvok, seska, annorax, that time janeway and tuvok and tom all lie to him for half a season, the list goes on).

and it's easy to see good in starfleet, especially when most of his career was during the height of federation utopia before "the best of both worlds," at which point starfleet remembered it's also a defensive force and started building the defiant—which was the very first starfleet ship ever designed solely for combat.

the cardassian situation in tng is shown as an aberration in a largely peaceful era. the off-screen "border wars" were fought by officers who expected to go their entire careers never firing a phaser.

tng season 4, "the wounded"

for decades since making peace with the klingons, and with the romulans keeping to themselves, starfleet has been mostly goodhearted nerds who are committed to exploring and making friends. even if chakotay was a tactical officer, that was the starfleet he signed up for and served.

and, in fact, the reason why the federation abandoned the colonists in the dmz in the first place and wouldn’t help bajor during the cardassian occupation is because the federation and starfleet are devoted to the ideals of peace and noninterference to a fault.

tng season 5, "ensign ro"

chakotay doesn't object to starfleet's actions, but its inaction.

which, side note, is why janeway's choice in "caretaker" makes it easy for him to rally behind her. by choosing to protect the ocampa, even though it's a huge sacrifice and puts her in a prime directive gray area, janeway specifically addressed the exact trust gap he has with starfleet.

season 1, "caretaker"

that's what he wanted them to do back home!

chakotay defends his starfleet uniform in the kazon scene that inspired this whole essay, and he believes what he's saying, because he's right: that's not what a starfleet uniform represents, either in theory or in practice. especially in the mid-24th century, regardless of the political issues, the federation and starfleet do not conquer planets or enslave alien cultures by force.

(of course, they wouldn't have helped the kazon free themselves either, but that's not the question on the table.)

to op's main question: it's an interesting (or boring?) doylist choice to make chakotay such a platonic ideal of a Starfleet Officer™️ (which, for the record, has always included going off-leash at the expense of one's career whenever ethics overwhelm regulations).

season 1, "prime factors"

star trek went to a lot of trouble to create the maquis for the voyager premise of two crews... and then quickly brady-bunch'd them into one happy family and let deep space nine wrangle the maquis problem instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

chakotay being so willing to put himself and his crew into starfleet uniforms (even though some members of both crews objected to it) cheated us out of some potentially rich drama, but it does hold water with what we see of him as a character on screen, and his relationship with starfleet. it has disappointed him, but he still believes that it's a force for good, and chakotay will always err on the side of seeing the good in something and thinking he can change it for the better from within.

--

tl;dr: chakotay is a starfleet officer by training and at heart, who was temporarily out of uniform because his family and tribe happened to be directly in the middle of starfleet's messiest ethical quagmire.

he made a personal, moral decision to join the maquis, not because he was anti-federation, but because that was the only way to protect federation civilians—which was part of his starfleet oath to begin with. he worked hard when he was younger to earn this uniform and i think, in spite of everything, he feels honestly proud to get to wear it again.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They Unknowingly Bring Up and Insecurity| Seungmin Pt2

Pt1 Pt3

Seungmin sat in the living room with the guys while you were in the kitchen with Lee Know preparing something for your guy's weekly hangout. You all decided on playing monopoly together, with you and Seungmin partnering up.

Bangchan carefully set up the board while Felix was handing out the money.

"Seungmin hyung." Jeongin asked as he handed his elder the thimble to him.

"Is Y/N okay? She's been really quiet. She won't even talk to me." Jeongin's face was droopy as he stuck his lip out. "I was wondering if she was upset about something?"

Seungmin took a breath and spoke quietly. His voice soft and rather sad.

"I think I said something that hurt her feelings really bad." His voice was starting to wobble a bit, and that told Jeongin all he needed to know.

"Did you say sorry?"

Seungmin nodded and his cheeks puffed out slightly as he pouted. "She said she was okay but I don't believe her."

Jeongin grabbed the hat and messed with it. "Well, what did you say to her?" He inquired.

Seungmin pulled out his phone and scrolled up to his texts with you. Which it didn't take long for him to scroll up because you hadn't been texting him as often. He only heard from you for important or urgent things, and he was missing the little random blurbs of somewhat unnecessary - but entirely endearing - information about what you were doing.

He handed his phone to Jeongin and the maknae quickly read it through.

"Hyung, you know why Y/N and her last boyfriend broke up right...?"

Seungmin shook his head and Jeongin opened his mouth to speak but you walked in with Minho with a tray of snacks.

"Did Minho teach you how to make something new?" Chan asked you. Seungmin could tell the rest of the guys had picked up on your odd silence, but you nodded.

"Kinda...he taught me how to set a charcuterie board. It's pretty."

You set it down and Jisung immediately went to go grab something.

"MMM Y/N THIS IS SO GOOD!!" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and his cheeks puffed up. "You need to teach me now!!"

The effort Jisung had given to get you to respond was in vain.

"Jiji, I just grabbed the cheese from a package..."

The wide eyed quokka boy scratched his neck. "Oh um. Its still good though."

Throughout the first thirty minutes of you guys playing, minimal conversation was made and Seungmin was feeling antsy.

He missed your voice.

When you stood up to go to the bathroom and go restock the snack supply all the guys turned to you.

"Seungmin apologize. I miss my baby girl..." Jisung whined.

Seungmin deadpanned and Jisung frowned. "What she was my baby girl before she became your baby girl..."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to fix it! I don't know what I did wrong really..."

"Hyung, her boyfriend broke up with her because of her tendency to overshare...and you know...talk a lot."

Seungmin's puppy eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"It was a stupid reason to break up really. She only told me because one time she was feeling insecure when we were hanging out and some lady told me that 'my girlfriend talked a lot'; which I told her that I wasn't dating her but also that it didn't matter because I talk a lot too." Jeongin frowned.

Seungmin blinked a few times and bit his bottom lip.

"I don't think she's upset at you Seungmin..." Changbin spoke. "From what I see it seems like she's trying not to be a burden."

"Burden?"

"She doesn't want you to break up with her so she's trying to change that aspect about herself. You're naturally a quiet person and she probably thinks she's too much for you and that you'll get tired of it."

Seungmin shook his head. "No! I could never get tired of Y/N-ie!"

Chan chuckled. "You guys really are perfect for each other." He says, marveling in his work. "But...tone doesn't translate over text."

"And you're a sarcastic motherfucker." Minho adds.

Hyunjin stretches across the floor. "You can say that again."

Jisung huffs. "Well go on and apologize! Because I want my gossip buddy back! She never finished telling me about the drama on her mom's side of the family! I was invested in which side piece got her cousin pregnant!"

Hyunjin shoots up, sniffing the drama. "Ya! Seungmin fix it! I want to know now too!"

Seungmin looked down at the board as he contemplated just how he could fix this.

Because sometimes words weren't the cure.

But actions were.

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

Sorry for the short work 🫠. But in all the drafts of my 3 part angst series (oops theres more?) the 2nd part tends to be shorter since its the down hill of the plot.

[leviismybby]

Bad Idea

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, nsfw 18+, mdni, virginity loss, age gap! Levi is in his 30s, the reader in her 20s, oh this is rough filth

Levi didn't care about the assigned rooms, his mind focused on the upcoming mission. His grey eyes follow the building where he will be staying for the next few days before heading outside of the walls. He heads inside, looking for his room number, he wonders if you're ready there and what you think about having to share a room with him. He knocks before entering just in case, the last thing he wanted to do is make you uncomfortable. When you say that he can come in, he does, carrying not but a single bag with him. The room was small and it had a single bed. Great. Just perfect.

You look at your Captain before your eyes fall on the bed, there was space for the two of you but it didn't make the situation any less tense. "I can sleep on the floor." That makes Levi look at you as he closes the door behind him, if anything he is the one who can sleep on the floor or the chair, he has a hard time sleeping anyway. "Nonesense There's room for both of us." He adds, setting his bag down on the bedside table, you don't speak on the matter further, he is the captain and questioning his orders is a bad idea. You nod not knowing what to say next, you don't know him that well.

As the sun set you were getting ready for bed, you had an early day and couldn't wait to get under the sheets, even of they are the same sheets your captain will be using too. After changing into your pyjamas and brushing your teeth, tou came back into the room which was now dimly lit as Levi sat at the desk writing at the paperwork with a candle burning next to him. He pays you no mind continuing to do this thing, you don't want to disturb him but you had to ask. "Ugh captain, which side would you like?" That catches his attention and he looks back at you, his eyes checks you up and down quickly before answering. "Who fucking cares. Sleep where you want." With that he turns back to finish the paperwork, he sighs slighty, you were a pretty girl in his eyes and it irritated him. "And please call me Levi."

Getting under the sheets, you try to make yourself comfortable, the only noises in the room are the quill Levi is writing with. You close your eyes trying to get sleep to wash over you but it doesn't, instead you turn and twist in the sheets, he makes you nervous, incredibly nervous and you would never admit to anyone just how much you're attracted to him, he was good eight years older than you and that added to the appeal. You rub your thighs together slighty, this wasn't a place to think about those things, he never even looked at you differently, it was ridiculous to get these naughty thoughts especially now when the man was in the same room as you. And you don't even know what it feels like, you were never with a man, sure you had your kisses but your first was something you want to give someone special.

After sometime of tossing in the bed, Levi sits on his side, your back in turned on him but you can hear him take his boots off. Was he going to sleep in his uniform...? Levi lays down on the other side, keeping his distance, he knows you're not sleeping and wonders what is keeping you awake. "Can't sleep?" He asks after sometime, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "..no...my thoughts won't let me." You say with honesty, it was the truth however you definitely aren't telling him what kind of thoughts tho, he doesn't need to know. Levi looks at you, your back still turned on him, you look around the dark room, waiting for him to reply. "Your thoughts huh? Or is that you don't want to share the bed with me?" Levi can tell by your body language that something is up, you don't seem all too comfortable.

"What?? Not its not that.....I am not uncomfortable it's just-" You cut yourself off, not wanting him to think less of you. Taking a deep breath you continue to talk. "I have never shared a bed with a man." Those words are said quickly and quietly but Levi hears them all. A slight curiosity runs through him, it shouldn't, you were his subordinate, he really shouldn't be thinking what he is thinking right now. "Is that so? Never had a boyfriend?" There's something about his voice that sounds mocking, almost as of he is teasing you. "Not really." You mumble, it wasn't that you didn't want a relationship, it's that all the men your age seem....immature. "I just- I guess men my age aren't exactly-" "Your type?" He cuts in, already seeing what you're trying to say. "No, not my type at all." You shiver as the thought of being with him runs around your mind, you should really get that fantasy out of your head.

There's a shift in the air, you feel as if he can read all of your mind and exactly what you're thinking of. Levi scoots closer to you, you feel his body coming closer to your and you freeze. "What is your type?" He runs a finger down your back and you have to hold back a moan you aren't pulling away, you don't want to. When he sees that you aren't stopping him, he moves even closer, he removes your hair to expose the back of your neck. Leaning closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, another shiver running down your body. His lips make contact with your skin, he nibbles gently on your neck, his hand move down to your waist, his hand running under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach. Levi wants to hear you, wants to hear your moans, what's to make you beg. He bites into your skin and that causes a moan to surpass your mouth, Levi groans, it's even sweeter than he thought, he needs more.

"Turn around." He says, voice filled with lust, you do as you're told, turning around to face him. Levi is still in his uniform, his straps are undone and his cravat hang around his neck. You feel your panties get wet a little more, slightly embarrassed you look away but before your head can turn, Levi grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. Levi's thumb runs across your lip, your eyes shine with desire and he loves it, craves it. "I'll ask you this only once so answer honestly. Do you want me to fuck you?" His words surprise, Levi isn't sugercoating it and he clearly isn't a romantic, that makes it all so much more appealing. You swallow and then answer. "Yes." It's a desperate tone but not enough for Levi. "You can do better than that." He needs to hear it from your pretty lips. "I want you to fuck me, Levi." You don't look away, looking him straight in the eyes and you swear that he smirks for a second. "Good girl."

He kisses you, his hands pull you closer into his body. You follow his movements, kissing him the best you can while your hands wrap around him. Levi turns you onto your back to get on top of you, his kisses growing more intense, his tongue enters your mouth, a slight moan escaping you as his fingers spread your thighs apart so he can lay between your legs comfortably. You can feel his boner pressing against your clothed pussy and without much thinking, you roll your hips wanting more contact. Pulling away from the kiss, he growls. "Mhh there you go." He kisses down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trace of open-mouthed kisses, his hands start exploring upwards, eager to undress you. You're supposed to be nervous but you aren't at all, all you want is for him to take you, it's even better than what you imagined.

You start to get braver with your hands, they wonder around his upper body before pulling on his shirt wanting it off his body. Levi gets message, he bites into your neck, leaving a mark behind before pulling away to get rid of his shirt. His naked upper body comes into your view, you have seen it before when he was patching up his wounds but this was different, those perfect defined abs and biceps, the v line running down into his pants, you bite your lip, your fingers running down his abs. Levi kisses you again, it was his turn to have you undressed, your hands run down the muscles of his back, his hips rolling into your as he kisses you sloppily. His hands are roughly pulling your shirt over your breasts, he doesn't take it off entirely, he doesn't need to. His lips move to your neck again, he kisses over the red spots he left earlier on it, Levi starts to move lower kissing over collarbone before reaching your breasts. His eyes lock onto them, admiring them for a second before he looks at you, your eyes are telling him all, you want him even more than he let on.

"Fucking perfect." Whispering under his breath, he takes the plush flesh into his hands, massaging them. A loud moan comes out of your lips, your hand fall to grip the sheets. Levi's mouth closes around your nipple, he is still holding your breasts in his hands, pushing them together. "Mhh Levi!" You whimper his name and in return Levi swirls his tongue around your swollen bud, you gasp, hands flying to his biceps. He pulls away from your nipple, his saliva connected to your nipple. "So fucking eager aren't you?" He sucks on the other nipple, his fingers playing with the other one, pinching it between his fingers. Your head falls to the side, the pleasure is overwhelming and he isn't even touching you where you need him the most yet.

Levi sucks and plays with your nipples for a few minutes and you feel like you can cum just from that. Starting to stir, Levi bites into your bund playfully, making you dig your nails into his bicep. He moves on, kissing your stomach and biting here and there, leaving marks that will remind you of the fact that he got to have you first. Not some useless boy your age, him, your captain. His lips reach the rim of your pants and he teases you by licking across your navel and than up your stomach, he bites into your breast, leaving a hickey there too. "Levii!" Again, you sound desperate, wanting him to move on. "Begging are you sweetheart? How cute." He is definitely mocking you now, his teeth bite into your other boob, sucking on the flesh even more intensely.

When you start to stir, Levi slaps your thigh lightly as if telling you to behave. After marking your breast, he finally moves on, he takes the hem of your pants and pulls them down, revealing your panties. He immediately sees the wet spot on the fabric, spreading your legs he goes lower, his face directly in front of your core. That gives you a shiver, your legs threatening to close but Levi is quick to spread you open again. "No, no. Keep them open for me, understood?" You nod, that's not enough, he wants to hear your voice. Putting one of your legs over his shoulder, he bites into your inner thigh, once again marking his territory. "Understood, Captain!" You say, your fingers treading through his raven hair. "That's a good girl."

His bites reach closer and closer to your wetness, when he reaches your pussy, he presses kisses on the wet spot over the underwear. Your hips buck slighty, another sound emerging from your swollen lips, this was all so new and Levi was doing it so good. He kisses the spot again before hooking his fingers around the fabric and pulling your panties down, he throws them on the floor next to his shirt. Your legs close again on instinct and Levi is quick to spread them open again, his eyes glued to your folds and he watches it it twitches under his gaze. "All this wet pussy for me huh?" He leans down gently licking your slit, you tug on his hair, your hips bucking more, this feels so good, better than anything. His grey eyes shoot up to your face, every expression you make fuels him up more. He starts to eat you out, his tongue skillfully working on your pussy, you start to move around, gripping onto anything you can, his mouth feels amazing.

"You like that don't you, sweetheart?" His fingers grip your thighs leaving marks on the flesh, he moves his hand to your stomach, leaving it there while skillfully working on your wetness with his mouth. "Yes! Oh fuck Levi!" Your eyes start to roll back, Levi groans against your cunt, the sound sending vibration all through your heat. Levi's tongue finds your clit, he starts with slow licks, driving you crazy, the moans you're letting out are music to his ears. "So fucking sensitive." He uses his fingers to rub your folds while he sucks on your clit, he needs to prep you for the real thing. His fingers enters you and that causes your back to arch, rubbing more against Levi's mouth. Its certain that other can hear how loud you are but Levi could care less, the louder you are, the more turned on he is. The fingering starts off slowly, his finger pumping in and out of you. "Fuck you're tight. Can't wait to fuck this wet cunt."

Levi spits on your pussy and then starts to eat you out again, his jaw moving faster and his finger moving more gently, its a perfect combination. Sometimes starts to built up in your stomach, it feels like butterflies are flying all over your abdomen, like a burning fire but the fire is pleasure instead of pain. Adding a second finger, Levi's hips start to rut into the mattress, he needs release soon but this is all about giving you a night you won't forget. "Levi! I am-hhhghh!" He starts to finger fuck you faster, his fingers reaching that gummy spot as his mouth works on you. And the sounds, oh they are nasty wet and loud but Levi isn't slowing down, his mouth pulls away, his fingers still pumping into you. "Yeah? Gonna cum aren't you? Be a good girl for me and cum." His head rests against your thigh, his mouth and jaw are glistening with your jucies. You pull on his hair, a loud moan od his name comes out of you, your hips buck, legs shake, it's the most intense thing you have ever felt, your walls clench toghtly around his fingers and you cum, completely overcome by pleasure.

Your head falls back against the pillow, your breath heavy as you calm down from your high, Levi pulls his fingers out slowly. He puts them in his mouth, teasting you once again, kissing up your body again, Levi's hands massage your thighs. When he gets to your face, he kisses the aide of your face. "Need a moment?" He asks, nibbling on your ear, his fingers interlocking with yours and you nod. After a few moments you open your eyes looking at him, you're cheeks are red, mouth wide open, he wants to revish you, fuck you until the only thing you know is him and him only. He kisses you on the lips, the kiss as sloppy as the previous one, you kiss back, your fingers squeezing his hands as he has them pinned above your head. Eventually when he let's go, your hand runs down his body again and this time your tug on his belt, undoing it for him. "Good girl, so eager to get fucked." You bite your lip at his words as his belt comes off. Levi helps you, pulling his pants down with his underwear, he gets rid of it and again throws it on the pile of clothes on the floor.

Curiously, you take his hard cock into your hand, rubbing it up and down. Levi grunts in response, your hand felt so warm and perfect. You pump him in your hand a couple of times before letting go, giving him a sigh that you want him inside of you. "I want you inside of me, Levi." He kisses the side of your neck, you feel his hair brushing your skin. "You'll get me, sweetheart. I can't wait to fuck you." He grabs the base of his cock before positioning it against your entrance, you whimper feeling hic cockhead rub aagsint your wet opening. "Fuck....you want me huh?" Levi wants you to beg for it, he needs it all. "Please Levi! Please! I want you to fuck me." That's all he needed, he pushes his hips forward, his cock pushes past your walls, you gasp, hands gripping the sheets as you close your eyes. "Oi! Eyes on me, let me see you." Looking at him, you watch as his face narrows slighty and then his hands grab your hips. "Can I move?" Despite the list in his voice, there is care there too and you nod, grabbing the mattress even tighter as you feel him move.

He starts to fuck you, enjoying every single moan and response of your body. It's slighty painful but the more he moves, the better it feels. Levi starts to thrust harder inti you, your moans get louder, it feels so good. "You're so..fucking...tight. You feel so good, baby." Your hands run up and down his back as he continues to ram into you, his cock feels like it was made for you. Levi hisses when your pussy clenches around him, he lifts your hips up slightly to get deeper inside of you. "Fuuuck Levi!" Your nails dig into his back, his cock hits that deep spot inside of you, causing you to almost see starts, you won't last much longer before cumming again. Levi starts to pund you faster, letting out rough grunts and groans, you feel so good, so right, it's driving him mad.

Before you can react, Levi pushes your knees up to your chest, folding you and then slams into your harder, your moans are swallowed by his lips as he kisses you passionately. He moans agasint your lips when you keep clamping down on him, your body arching more into him, his nails dig into the back of thighs, he keeps you spread, fucking you harder. You pull away from the kiss when his cock hits your cervix, it's painful but feels so good at the same time. Levi grabs your hair making you look at him. "Keep those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you, baby." His forehead presses agsint yours, his thrusts get messy, he is getting close and so are you.

The knot in your stomach is creating again and this one is somehow more intense than your last climax. "Shit..I'll cum deep inside this cunt.." He fucks you in a slower pace and you feel as his cock twitches inside of you, that's nrouhh for you as you feel yourself cumming around his cock. "Atta girl. Cum for me, cum around my cock." His hands are gripping your hips so hard you're sure they will leave bruises but you don't care, not now. Levi fucks you through your orgasm, he tries his best to hold back as much as he can and he knows he shouldn't cum inside of you however it's irresistible to him, he wants you filled with his cum.

With one last groan, Levi slams hard into you and then cums deep inside of you. Your nails are still digging into his back, his cum feels warm filling you up to the brim. Levi kisses you on the lips as he finishes cumming, he pulls your body closer and let's go of your legs. The sheets are ruined beanth you but that's not a worry for either of you right now. You return the kiss, your fingers gently running down back, feeling the scratches you left behind. Both of you pull away and Levi looks at you, his eyes looking over the marks on your body, he almost feels bad, almost, he is proud of his work. Proud that you trusted him enough to let him do this. And now the mission is that much more exciting.

[fiendishfables]

I would love to see this- Lucifer is the strongest entity in Hell, and it turns him on like nothing else when his lover wrestles him for dominance. He will go straight up feral over that.

Lucifer Morningstar wrestling his S/O for dominance...

Headcanons + Drabble

warnings: nsfw, hints at degradation, mentions of blood, biting, scratching, power-dynamics, rough(er) love

words: 806

a/n: I had way too much fun with this- thanks for this lovely, unique ask, I hope I did it justice! It was a bit difficult for my pee brain to come up with things to write, but the people need to be fed; here is your feast

✡ It's hot, its rough, and it's primal

✡ Ideally, Lucifer never tended to like it when anyone challenged his authority, no matter what over

✡ But if you, his lover, did so, he had the benefits of being able to take you however he pleased after you get the chide out of your system (with consent of course), knowing damn well how much it riles him up

✡ When the two of you wrestle, its almost like two wild animals, fighting for a meal that could very well end up being your last before a harsh winter rolls in

✡ It doesn't take long for his demon form to make an appearance during your steamy game, allowing him a decent advantage over your regular strength capabilities; you often call him out for 'cheating', but seeing him in such a feral state turns you on like nothing else

✡ You can feel him getting hard the first few minutes of your rough-housing, telling you all you need to know about how much he really enjoys doing things like this with you. His deep, guttural groans are hard to ignore, his wings flaring up as they batter your body with feather-light touches

✡ His claws and fangs are really coming out now. His claws are dug deep into your skin, leaving light (yet effective) scratches on your skin, as he watches the blood well up on the line of the cut, proceeding to then lean down and let his forked tongue lick off the excess mess his claws left behind

✡ Bite marks will litter your body, blood complimenting those areas as well. The stinging sensation they leave can not go unnoticed and they only help add to the different emotions you are feeling in the current moment

✡ Having someone to challenge him, both mentally and physically, gets him going; its admirably hot how you continue to protest that you could take him down if you wanted to, and he likes seeing that smug, confident smirk of yours turn to one of pure pleasure and ecstasy as he proves you wrong, over and over again

✡ Knowing he holds the most power possible for a being in any hellish realm, makes it all the more fun when you try and downgrade that title, even if just in the slightest bit; it's your own little game you like to play with one another, a common game of cat and mouse, or rather, Devil and prey

✡ Lucifer is ravaging your body, fully claiming you this time, letting you know that there is no one but himself that can hold this power over you; it reminds you that he will always be in charge one way or another, no matter how much you question

✡ In the long run though, you both love these feral moments in your relationship, getting to express your shared love for one another even in such a strange, somewhat brutal way

✡ He loves fighting for his right to dominate you, and he never fails to claim it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The heavy panting and notable scent of sweat on the pair of your bodies seemed to go unnoticed, as the two of you were locked in both an intense staring contest, and a physical fight between your bodies; fingers were locked together, arms continually pushing at the other in an attempt to overthrow them. Your bare skin rubs against each other feverishly, his hard cock still buried deep within you from earlier.

"Do you really think you can overpower me in a battle for dominance, darling? I suggest you give in and just let your King take care of you."

His voice was smooth, soothing almost, aside from his heavy breaths filling your ears. He still sounded like an angel to you all the same.

A feral one.

The two of you had been at this now for a good half-n-hour, trying to secure your position as the dominant party in the sheets for the night, but Lucifer had you pinned underneath his own pale body at this point, using the enhanced strength from his demon form to keep you where you were.

The fight for dominance had been over just as soon as it had started; you both knew this from the beginning.

No matter if you were to be above or beneath him, he would always find a way to end out on top of it all, including yourself.

And by all the Gods, if that didn't make him even sexier in your eyes.

You would easily give yourself up to Lucifer whenever he wanted or needed you; there was no doubt about it and you both shared that same knowledge.

But maybe, if this is where challenging him for dominance got you, then you'd have to indulge in the action more often.

[basicinstnct]

can’t quit you / miguel o’hara

word count: 1642

tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues

ao3 link: here

summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!

small prequel: here

“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).

“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.

“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.

“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.

He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.

Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.

“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”

“I’m not saying no…” 

Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”

If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.

You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.

It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.

“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.

“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric. 

“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”

“All you have to do is ask, baby.”

You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth. 

You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.

“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”

Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.

“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.

“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.” 

He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.

“Are you…” You can’t say the words.

You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.

“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.” 

“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.

He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm. 

You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you. 

You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.

It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”

You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”

“There are no girls.”

“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”

You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.

[coffeecatcraze]

I would just like to say how hard it hits me in the chest to see Charlie masking every time she's onscreen the day before the fight (including what we see on Vox's spy screens of course), except when no one is with her but Vaggie. Even during her emotional speech she tries so damn hard to keep that confidence up and smile on. But we do see her stop masking twice, when the only person watching her is Vaggie.

First:

No one's really paying attention to her, and she's not smiling; she's worried. When Vaggie approaches her, she doesn't put on a happy face. She talks about her mom with the same smile as in the first episode (during a very emotionally vulnerable moment with Vaggie, might I add). It's not happy or confident. It's nostalgic, wistful, and sad, because her mom's absence is something very personal and painful for her. When Vaggie asks if they're ready, Charlie doesn't instantly start to smile or answer with confidence even though she usually would (even within that short beat of time), because her mask is off. She's not confident or optimistic. She's scared. She's not ready.

Then Pentious comes out and she's all smiles again! The mask comes back on when someone other than Vaggie is there.

Second:

Of course, one of our favorite scenes. Charlie's alone when she breaks down, but when Vaggie shows up, she keeps the mask off. She admits how scared she is. When she does smile, it's not the big smile she's been throwing on throughout the day, and it's not strained either. It's soft, gentle, and real. She's not masking. Vaggie is genuinely making her feel better when she's finally letting herself fall apart, just by being there and reminding her that no matter what happens, she's already accomplished so much, and she's so loved.

Charlie is under a lot of stress and pressure. She's scared. She's not as optimistic as she's making herself out to be. She's giving everything she's got out there being a strong, confident, inspirational leader and friend in front of everyone, and it's only with Vaggie that she lets it go. She doesn't have to try to be strong. She doesn't pretend. She lets down her guard, because for her, Vaggie is that one infinitely special person who gets to see every part of her; the one person she can always be her honest self with.

There were plenty of times in other episodes when Charlie didn't mask her negative emotions around people, but that was when she didn't have anyone looking to her as a leader. She's running on adrenaline and the weight of people's expectations as Extermination Day gets closer, and she can't let the mask she's put on slip in public. She has to seem like she's totally ready for what's coming. But Vaggie is different.

The amount of trust and love Charlie has for her is staggering. She's under an insane amount of stress and pressure, and having Vaggie by her side is probably the only thing keeping her from completely falling to pieces. Seeing a relationship so full of deep trust and love is absolutely beautiful. <3

[atxxzist]

this sea of despair | c.s

summary: you've always dreamed of exploring the vast lands and seas beyond the small and quiet town you grew up in... you just didn't think it'd come at the cost of your own dignity and integrity, getting thrown into a whole new world against your will where none of it matters and the only way to survive is to betray who you are in the face of choi san

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: pirates!au, angst, smut

WARNINGS: dubcon, sexual assaults, slut-shaming, san is a huge red flag, not a romance story sksjasjdsjs, half-assed smut, im failing to name all of them but pls go in cautiously & pls lmk if i should add something else

word count: 20.8k

you spot him immediately when you reach the top of the hill, the boy recognizable a mile away from the shirt he's wearing; the top once a white color but now a ragged and slightly dirty beige from all the years of owning it.

he looks over his shoulder when he hears the distant footsteps, a smile already on his lips before he's even sure it's you.

"hey," he greets, the soft gaze never leaving as you plop down on the grass next to him.

"hi," you return, adjusting yourself into a comfortable enough position before looking out into the horizon, seeing the sunset about to take over the sky while the waves crashes against rocks and each other.

this is your favorite place in the entirety of dune; sitting atop at such an angle with a sight makes you feel as if you have the whole world in the palm of your hand.

like if you look out far enough, you can see all the islands, other towns, and settlements in the south sea. and if you look even further, you just might be able to picture what those belonging to the north are like.

just the mere thoughts of it makes you excited--the illusion that you can achieve any and everything when you look down on a world that seems so much smaller than you.

but the place isn't just a spot for the eye candy but also safety. when you and minsoo wanna drown out the chitters and judgments of everyone else and escape into hushed whispers and sacred words you cannot say to anyone but each other.

you've known him for as long as you remember, and he always has a way to make you feel safe and comfortable; listened to and heard.

it always has felt like you found each other in a rather unfortunate world... at least that's how you see him. a speck of light in uncertain darkness.

"how's your father doing?" he asks, eyes and voice turning a soft empathetic.

the reminder brings out a low sigh, but it's an unfortunate reality you're living through.

"not well."

he was just fine a couple weeks ago, getting up and going about his routine when he fell ill out of nowhere, it came so quick and sudden, you couldn't process it at first that your own father was now stuck in bed all day while you ran across the town daily to find some kind of remedy... to no luck.

there's medicines that helps lessen the symptoms but things doesn't seem to be getting any better by the day.

"sorry to hear," he says, disheartened that he can't help you. it's hard to find any skilled doctors or expertise in such a field in a small place like dune. "keep trying. i''ll help, too, and let you know if i come across something."

"i appreciate it," you tell him, a genuine smile on your lips that he returns.

sometimes, you still wonder if not following the feelings budding underneath whenever you're with minsoo is a mistake.

if one day you're gonna grow to regret choosing your heart over safety and security, every time you're with him, the yearning and longing is felt on the surface you both won't scratch.

with how minsoo is, his nature always so selfless and self-sacrificing, he wouldn't let you. you know he still won't.

it was the day the topic finally showed its head after the both of you tippy-toed around it for so long... when it was clear as day even to those around that you hold good feelings for each other.

more than gratitude and being friends.

"but i think it's best we don't," minsoo says, his delivery bittersweet as you shoot to him with fluttering and confused lashes.

you clear your throat quietly and ask, "why not?"

because usually if the feelings of love and admiration are mutual, there isn't any reasons not to try. that's how it works, doesn't it?

"because i'll only hold you back."

you go blank at his words, attempting to mentally break down what he means exactly.

"didn't you say you wanna go out of dune? explore other nearby islands and towns, maybe even step foot into the north sea one day? i don't want you to have to choose between me or your dreams in the future."

you only stare at him, your throat feeling tight and head still a little confused, he has to add, "i don't plan on leaving dune. sure, it isn't the best place there is to be, but i like it here. it's where i was born and where i hope to die."

when you finally grasp what he's trying to tell you, a small sigh of defeat leaves your chest, but he takes your hands in his immediately and looks at you so assuringly like everything's gonna be okay.

"i'm not saying we shouldn't ever, but i hope to one day have the map you've always dreamed of creating in the grasp of my hand, and maybe you can tell me all about your adventures. but for now, i want you to freely dream of those things without having to consider anything else, okay?"

you don't know how he's still able to smile in such a situation, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear and always with words that mends the doubts in you.

sometimes it feels like he has too much faith in you, and sometimes it's as if you're just chasing a false dream, but if it's to really happen one day, you'll do it for him, too.

--

you separate from minsoo on the path back to town, having to run to the only pharmacy in the town to pick up more medicines for your father.

the white building is quite small situating near the outskirts leading to the fields, and you've ever only seen one worker here who you've grown to be familiar with pretty recently.

she's a little older than you and very soft-spoken, her drive to always help the best she can is something you greatly appreciate.

walking into the empty pharmacy, she greets you immediately upon arrival and you wave as a response, watching as she bends under to pull out the bag she's already prepared beforehand.

"thank you," you tell her, pulling the few coins out of your pockets and handing it to her.

"your father doing any better?" she asks.

you shake your head, looking and sounding just as disheartened as when minsoo asked.

"unfortunately, no."

"sorry to hear," she says, also pitying you just as much as minsoo did. "if only dune were able to get exports from those in the north sea. but we have to do with what we're given. i hope you'll be able to find something better for your father soon."

you nod, a thin smile on your lips from the kind encouragement.

"yeah, i'm working on something," you answer, swiftly turning to the window and seeing the blackness that covers it entirely. "i'll take my leave now before it gets too late. once again, thank you."

you turn your back to head out when her slightly hesitant voice stops you.

"y/n."

"yes?" you stare wide-eyed over your shoulder.

"be careful, okay? i heard halateez are getting closer."

it takes you a few seconds to register what she's talking about, replying in a rather calm and casual tone, "yeah. you, too."

--

you didn't think much of what she said back at the pharmacy due to the sudden unexpectedness of it, but the closer you get to the town square, catching sight of the black and red bounty poster you've seen plastered for miles for the past months now, your body can't help but to get a chill that makes you wanna shiver in uneasiness.

halateez. they're one of the most notorious pirates crew roaming the seas of wonderland--well known for their disguises and hidden identities, now currently the biggest fear for everyone in dune because words are that they were just in the east sea a while ago, meaning as soon as they're done, they'll be heading down here.

no one knows what to expect but the fear definitely seems more real each passing day, waiting in apprehension for a mysterious ship to appear on the dock and just hope for the best.

and it might be because you're so deep in your thoughts, or that you can barely see in such darkness that the second you turn the corner to head down the road home, you hit face first into someone's hard chest causing the bag in your hand to drop and the few pill bottles to roll onto the ground.

you gasp and apologize under your breath, but there's no time to even see who it is because you're more concerned about salvaging your father's medications as you bend down immediately to pick it all up.

"again, i'm sor--" but you stop just short of finishing when you finally look up and the dark figure hovering over your body conjures up a knot in your throat, clearing it lowly and standing on your feet as you try to make out his features in the poor lighting.

he hasn't said anything despite the situation, though you're able to make out his brows as they curve at you in judgement.

your eyes lower to his chest, the black ink drawn on it intriguing you because it might be the first time you've ever seen anyone in dune with a proper tattoo.

you try not to stare too long, giving this man just one last look, finally adjusting to the lighting and seeing that he's actually quite good looking.

some intimidating features and a gaze that makes you wanna cower for sure, but he's handsome.

when he doesn't say anything, only continuously stare at you for what seems like the longest time, you apologize once more before bowing and excusing yourself, thinking of how odd such a man is on your way back home.

you wake up to what is the loudest commotion ever in your 20 years of living, looking up to where your father is resting and glad it didn't also jolt him from his sleep.

something already feels very wrong, the pit of your stomach is telling you it and the sudden knock at the door as well.

when you open it to minsoo's concerned eyes and voice saying your name so early in the morning, you know it's only gonna get worse.

but before you can even ask why he and what seems like the entire town are up so early and looking absolutely scared for their lives, the deep and roaring voice of another from a distance away makes you snap to the source, your heart beating so fast in your chest at the sight.

as if the men from the posters you were just looking at yesterday jumped straight out of them and is now in front of you--black attires, hats, masks, and all armed as they stand right in the middle of the town square as the one that spoke just now stands just a couple feet ahead of the rest.

"listen up! we want a thousand coins from each house within an hour! if you don't have it, you better find a way!" the man threatens, his right hand holding a gun that sits on his shoulder so comfortably.

cries and panics ensues instantly, your heart breaking at the distress written all over fathers, mothers, and children's faces as most of them cradles each other in a hug and cry together, then some retreating back into their house in defeat.

you turn to look at minsoo and he has the same look all over his face, sharing the same desperation as you but also disappointment and anger that nothing can be done.

"i'll get back to you soon. you let me know if you need me," he tells you much to a nod before going back to his own house and family.

you take another glance at the men in black as they just sit around and chat away like they're not ruining the lives of a community already going through a hard time.

your father is already awake when you return inside, asking you in his frail voice, "what's going on?"

"nothing," you tell him, putting on your best smile. he's sick and he doesn't need even more things to worry about. "just a town event."

he doesn't say furthermore but he does watch you go through your belongings until you pick up what looks like a jar full of coins.

"i'll be back," you assure, walking out and shutting the door because you don't want him to see or be a part of any of it.

as you await in the compacted living area for your turn, the longer you stare at the jar in your hand, the more you wanna cry because this is all you have from all the years of saving.

all of your dreams and future is in this small jar that you've spent the last few years putting all your blood, sweats, and tears into because if you were to ever get out of dune one day, you want it to be by your own doings.

a thousand coins is almost an entire year worth of living in the south sea. stupid fucking pirates.

you don't necessarily have a problem with them because just like people, there's good and bad pirates, and at least the ones that had passed through dune before were just rowdy at worst given most only came for the brothel, but they never held the townsfolk at freaking gunpoint.

at least half an hour goes by when you finally hear the voices before the knocks.

"are you sure it's this one?"

"yes. he couldn't shut up about it."

you open the door slowly with a racing heart, the two men in front glaring you down and making you feel all kinds of discomfort even through the disguises.

you don't say anything, only extending your hands with the jar in it, hoping and wishing for it to be over as soon as possible while you keep your gaze to your feet.

too long goes by when nothing happens, looking up again only for one of them to say, "we don't want coins from you." the statement making you raise a brow in confusion.

"you're y/n, right?" the other one who's just slightly taller than the first, says, with you returning a halfhearted nod. "it's been requested that you come with us."

and if they weren't holding your entire town hostage and parading around like they'll actually do what they say, you might think they're out of their minds because how in the hell do they know your name and is now demanding just the absolute craziest request.

"says who?" you reply, an edge to your voice that's starting to no longer consider the presence of these maniacs who could do anything to you.

"you don't need to know," the first one responds, the audacity to sound even more annoyed than you, before swiftly grabbing for your wrist but you're quick to pull back.

"i'm not fucking going," you spit. "i'll do anything and everything, even pay double, but if you guys think i'm coming with, you're insane."

he only laughs, his amusement clear even with the mask on.

"sweetheart, you're insane if you think you have a choice, now let's not make this even--"

it's probably stupid of you to shut the door in front of two very obviously strong men who's also taller than you, but you do it anyway and of course--it doesn't work, the one with a deeper and more annoying voice stops it immediately, pushing the frame back so hard it thumps against the wall and causes your father's voice to pierce from the bedroom.

"y/n, honey, is everything okay?"

"yes! everything's fine. please don't come out!"

when you look them both in the eyes again, backing away slowly with your throat and heart clenched as they only get closer, you're really not sure if you'll be able to get out of this.

"that your father?" the more annoying one asks again, his head tilted and mocking you through the tone.

"none of your fucking business."

but he only laughs again, like there's something so entertaining for him in other people's misery.

"oh, but it is. because if you don't come with us, you'll be putting your father in a lot of trouble."

you fume through your nose. "you wouldn't dare."

and just when you eventually loosen up and lets your guard down, not wanting to put your father in any danger, the other one comes at you so fast, you can barely react.

his hand clasp your mouth and nose tightly with something you can't even properly make out because you're busy struggling, eyes suddenly heavy and consciousness gone before all you see is utter darkness.

"seriously, what the fuck?"

"he asked us to do it."

"doesn't mean you had to. you know he's a fucking maniac."

"he also asked us to not smother her with chloroform but that also didn't happen."

"what else were we supposed to do? she was resisting."

"does hongjoong know about this?"

"not yet."

"jesus fucking christ... did she see you guys without your masks on?"

"no. but not like it matters now anyway."

you hear the conversation and booming voices for a good minute before you can fully make out your surrounding.

there's a brown nightstand in front of you with a badly lit lantern sitting on top, and when you're able to roll onto your back, you find the ceiling is made out of wood with multiple lines of thicker woods spreading across just a few inches apart.

you're constantly rocking back and forth, unable to stay still as if being swayed by the motions of water, and then comes the smell. something of fish and another you can't dissect just yet.

then it hits you. halateez and their threats, the two men walking into your house and demanding you come with them, then your attempt to fight when one of them suddenly came at you.

you wish it was all a bad dream, but you know it's not. it all feels too real and your current state is proof of it.

you turn to face the side of the wall made out of even more wood, a lone tear rolling down your cheek as you sniff the salty air when the door comes apart, causing you to jolt from your position.

standing there is a face you can actually see as you two just continuously stare at one another, your body naturally retracting and curling up because these people could do anything to you.

it's almost as if he can read your mind, shutting the door gently and telling you at the same time, "i'm not gonna hurt you, don't worry."

he looks a lot younger than any pirates you've ever seen in your lifetime... like he could be even younger than you.

"where am i?" you ask, volume barely loud enough and sounding like you're gonna break into a cry any second.

"a pirate ship," he answers, having stopped just short of the door and staring you down... but you knew where you are. maybe you were just hoping you would be wrong.

"please let me go back home," you beg, the waterworks already coming, usually not one to drop a sob story to get your ways but there's no other choice.

this is so wrong on so many levels and you actually cannot fathom it being a reality right now.

the man takes a short, almost remorseful breath, moving his gaze to the floor briefly before he locks eyes with you again.

"i'm afraid that isn't possible. the ship's already moved away from dune for a while now. plus, he won't let you leave. not anytime soon at least."

"he?" you quote, pitch high and curious.

"says who?" you reply, an edge to your voice that's starting to no longer consider the presence of these maniacs who could do anything to you.

"you don't need to know," the first one responds, the audacity to sound even more annoyed than you, before swiftly grabbing for your wrist but you're quick to pull back.

"he'll be here soon," is all he tells you about this mysterious man before going off about other things. "if you need to relieve yourself, it's the door to your right. probably different than what you're used to but you'll get the hang of it soon. dinner is at 7, and if you have any further questions, you'll have to ask san yourself. i don't know when i'll get to talk to you again."

you open your mouth to say something but a call outside cuts you short.

"jongho!"

he gives you another look, his expression unreadable. he seems to feel bad for you but it's hard to believe anyone's intentions and sincerity in your current state.

"i have to go," he says, turning his back to you, one hand on the handle when he stops to look over his shoulder to give you the final farewell, his pitch suddenly deeper as if sending you a warning. "i know it sucks, but please, try to be on your best behavior. he won't show you the same mercy."

you don't say anything, watching as he leaves and gaze drawn to the tattoo on the back of his wrist that you swear looks familiar but is unable to get a closer look.

left to your own devices, your mind is traveling at a thousand miles per hour, talking under your breath and pacing around the tiny cabin trying to digest everything just now while simultaneously trying to think of how to get the hell out of here.

san. jongho, who you think is his name, said it. san is the fucking lunatic that ordered for you to be here.

well, you certainly don't wanna be here when he shows up, searching the entire perimeter of the room for anything and even going into the so-called "restroom" jongho was referring to only to find two buckets--one filled with water and one empty, before shutting the door in defeat.

when you're just about out of ideas, plopping down on the edge of the bed and accidentally making eye contact with the porthole on the other side of the nightstand, you don't know why you didn't think of it sooner.

you can try breaking it... if you can find something, once again touring the area and busy looking over and under that when the door creaks open again, you just freeze in place.

"planning to escape?" a voice lighter but different from jongho and filled with amusement rings from behind as you swallow down the knot and spin around slowly. "i wouldn't do that if i were you."

he still has on his diguise attire or whatever the hell it is, but the second he locks eyes with you, he starts taking off just about everything, starting from his hat then his mask.

when it finally comes off, you visibily and audibly gasp.

“again, i’m sor–” but you stop just short of finishing when you finally look up and the dark figure hovering over your body conjures up a knot in your throat, clearing it lowly and standing on your feet as you try to make out his features in the poor lighting.

he hasn’t said anything despite the situation, though you’re able to make out his brows as they curve at you in judgement.

"you!" your finger weakly points at him in accusation, but the man just smirks like he finds a kick out it.

his chin nods off to the porthole and you follow, his voice soon filling up the space, "if you wanna try jumping out of that, i'll tell you now it won't work. we're so far from any land at this point, you'll soon drown before you even know it."

now that you're able to see him clearly, his features more prominent and menacing in daylight, nothing welcoming like the boy that came before him especially with how he's literally undressing you with fox eyes, you can't help but to grow smaller and slowly retract away from this man.

"you're the one that ordered all of this shit?" you still manage to say despite the fear overtaking your body as you watch him take off the coat and pull the turtleneck off his head.

you avert your eyes to the floor to avoid the sight of his naked torso, but he seems to find something so funny about it as he laughs it off.

"i did," he replies nonchalantly, clearly unbothered even with the sincerity and seriousness of your question, only throwing himself down onto the bed with his hands behind his head as he continues to stare at you some more, never in your life have you ever felt this uncomfortable.

"why?" your voice cracks, all that anger and grief coming back up even stronger this time around. "what did i do to deserve this? i was just living my life, my father is sick and he needs me. what would he do without me?"

you're full on crying at this point, hoping and praying that maybe this man in front of you who looks like he's listening to just about the most boring past time story, will somehow take pity on you and let you go.

you've done nothing but tried your best to only do good deeds, so why you of all people?

you think of your father; of minsoo...

san shrugs, not moved by the tears or the breaking of your voice.

"i did it because i can? i did it because i want to?" he says, unsure himself much to your utter disbelief because he cannot be serious.

"so you're that fucking bored you just go around stealing lives of people because you can?" you scoff. "you pirates are so stupid."

he smirks and you regret the words the instant he gets off from the bed and starts walking toward you until your back hits the wall and you cannot go any further, really showing you where you stand in a situation like this.

you're holding your breath with clenched fists when he lowers his gaze to yours, tilting his head mockingly in a proximity too close for your liking.

"if you don't want anything bad to happen to you, i suggest you speak to me a little more fucking nicely, huh?"

you swallow the tension, staying quiet and choosing safety because you have no idea how he's gonna react and what he's capable of just yet.

then it catches your attention again while you're actively avoiding his gaze... the black ink on his chest in the shape of an 'a' and a circle around it.

that must also be what jongho has at the back of his wrist.

"good girl," he coos, breaking your train of thoughts as the pet name makes you feel all forms of disgust, the way he says it so affectionately when right now, all you wanna do is kick him in the shin.

you think if you don't say anything and let him be, he'll leave you alone, but he shamelessly rakes over your face and figure with a twisted gaze.

"you know," he whispers, breath ghosting the tip of your skin, finally looking up to meet his eyes. you hate the fact he's attractive for such a sick person, and you hate it even more the way he's biting at his lower lip. "you're even more beautiful up close."

you wonder if he can hear how loud your heart is beating, so afraid and fearful about what he's gonna do to you.

and when one of his fingers slowly creeps up to brush against your cheek, you visibly flinch, prompting a snicker from him before he backs away completely much to your relief.

you proceed to watch as he walks over to the nightstand and pulls a piece of clothing out of the top drawer, then throwing it onto the bed.

"change into this by tonight," he informs, tone calm but you know it's an order.

he isn't done just yet, going back to fetch one last thing before shutting it and putting on a show for you as he works on wearing the black top he got just now, pulling until it sits on his skin comfortably.

"i've got some unfinished business so i'll be back by dinner time. but for now, stay put and might i warn you one more time, don't try anything stupid and don't even try entertaining the idea of escaping," he states, the warnings sending a chill down your spine.

he doesn't wait for any kind of response from you, leaving the second after and lifting the heaviness off your chest even if just slightly.

this man really just came in here to intimidate you because he can.

--

there is really not much to do, especially in a small space you're unfamiliar with. you go back between sitting on the bed and looking through the porthole watching as the waves carry the ship along the dark water.

you don't allow yourself to sleep even if your eyelids are growing heavier each hour, your heart unable to be at rest with such a situation you had no say in.

you still haven't even changed into the outfit san demanded you to because you don't know why he wants you in such skimpy clothings for.

you absolutely refuse to wear it.

and although he's warned you to not even think of escaping, your mind can't help but to drift to the possibility of getting out of here. maybe not right now but in the future, it could happen.

he's a fool if he thinks you've already accepted your fate.

it's getting darker outside and you're failing at finding things to keep yourself occupied, when the sudden chatters outside takes your attention.

it's a tad muffled but you can still make out most of what they're saying--the voices sounding like they belong to the men earlier who's responsible for you being here in the first place.

"yeah, she's beautiful so i can understand, but san is still one crazy son of a bitch for doing this." you hear the laughters, such a matter being reduced to a casual discussion between the two.

"he didn't do it alone, though. we literally took the girl away from her home."

"you think san's going to... tonight?"

you don't even realize your ears are practically glued to the door attempting to eavesdrop, but you back away from it the second you finally digest the comment, not even bothering to hear the rest of the conversation.

is this why he took you in the first place and even ordered for you to change into some lingerie by the time he returns? it would only make sense because what other use would someone like you be good for?

just the thought of it sends your body into a state so scared and helpless, desperate to take back the rights of your life into your own hand but completely out of ideas as of currently.

minsoo would always tell you you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen, and it was flattering at first... why wouldn't it be? it was until it wasn't; your appearance all anyone could talk about.

the aunties that lived next door would always tell your father jokingly that if he had just let you work at the brothel, the two of you could make way more than tending to crops and animals.

you don't have a problem with anyone who does that as a way of living, but it is simply not for you.

your beauty has done nothing in life for you but served troubles.

there's no way to tell time except for the darkness coating the porthole and the way your heart beats faster every passing minute, waiting in anxiety till san will eventually come back.

when you're just starting to doze off, managing to forget about him for just that quick moment, he finally makes an appearance again, the sound of the door opening jolting you from the drowsy state and into fear once again.

you watch him throw a mere glance at the piece of clothing still untouched on the bed.

"i'm pretty sure i gave you a clear order, no?" he looks at you, his antagonizing gaze already making you feel small.

but you stand your ground, spitting lowly but boldly, "i'm not wearing that."

he scoffs, shaking his head to the ground, honestly amazed at the amount of resistance and bravery one still has in a scene where they're clearly at a disadvantage.

he thinks you have absolutely no instincts for survival.

"what exactly do you plan to do with me?" you ask, desperate for a clearer answer, even if you have to annoy it out of him at your own expense. "where the hell are we even going, and can i please just know what's going on?"

he sits himself down on the lone chair near the door, eyes burning into yours as if shooting lasers.

"you sure have a lot of questions, don't you?"

"well i suppose you would too if you were taken away from your home by some lunatic."

san laughs at the jab, a smirk overtaking the shape of his lips after.

"curse at me some more, don't you? it kind of turns me on."

him abducting you should be more than enough proof you're not dealing with a sane person, but this seals it.

"you're out of your fucking mind," you say under your breath in utter disbelief but barely making an effort so he doesn't hear it.

"call me whatever names or insults you want, but it won't faze me, dear. i've heard it all."

you roll your eyes. "oh, i don't doubt it."

a couple seconds of fuming silence goes by before he's the one to speak up.

"we're heading to scorched bay. we'll reach it in a day or two. any more questions, princess?" he raises a brow, his tone a combination of teasing and purposely provoking you.

"why did you decide to ruin my life? why me?" your delivery a bit sarcastic and bitter, bringing about a chuckle from san. but he wouldn't really just do it because he can as he so-called claimed, right?

"that's some strong wordings, but i did it because i like you, is that so hard to believe?"

the room goes even more quiet than before, because this man in front of you who did just about the last thing anyone would do to someone they like, is saying that's exactly what this is.

"yeah, i do find it quite hard to believe."

he shrugs, still unmoved and only proceeding to stare at you with something in his eyes--a challenge--going on to say something that makes you even more uneasy than before.

"well, stick around longer and you'll find i mean every word i say."

if san couldn't get any crazier, he definitely hit his peak when he thought you'd sleep in the same bed as him.

he surprisingly didn't put up much of a fight when you obviously refused, but now you're starting to think he did it on purpose because he knew how uncomfortable the floor is, and that eventually, you're gonna end up regretting the choice.

"changed your mind just yet?" his voice in the dark making you jump slightly, but you try your best to maintain the composure.

"no," you say stubbornly.

because even if the wood flooring is hard and rough on your skin, you'd rather have that than spend the night sharing the same bed with a man you barely know.

"suit yourself."

you squeeze your eyes and force it shut, because if you can fall into darkness, this will all be over soon enough

--

san doesn't let you leave the room even the following day, only bringing you food when it's time so you'll have something and not die off--though you'd much rather prefer that at this point.

the only good thing is he isn't with you most of the day, always out and about and only showing up once in a while to warn you again, or get something before leaving for hours.

occasionally you'd listen to the conversations outside that's within earshot, none of them too interesting or important until you hear one concerning the ship's arrival in scorched bay by tomorrow morning.

you can't seem to trust san's words for now and you don't want to considering the person he is, but it only makes sense they're going in order.

after scorched bay, port cove would be up next.

you know you probably shouldn't entertain the idea, but you go to sleep tonight on the hard wood flooring with hope comforting you in your dreams and that tomorrow, there's a chance you could be free from this prison.

--

you're woken up by the much louder chatters foreign to a ship with a relatively small group of people, when the revelation of yesterday hits you, sitting up immediately only to see san raising an eyebrow at you while sitting on the edge of the bed shirtless.

"excited to wake up today, aren't you?" the way he says it, as if trying to get under your skin, but if you really want your plan to work, you have to go just the extra mile to stay on his good side.

you smile in return instead. "i've just always wanted to see scorched bay."

he smirks, shaking his head before standing up to look for his shirt.

"you're not going anywhere," he says, the same time he throws that same turtleneck over his head.

you already knew that but you still can't help but to feel a little dejected at the reminder.

"so what am i going to be doing for the meantime?" you ask.

he shrugs, grabbing for his coat on the rack near the door.

"you don't try to do anything stupid before we return, which should be before it gets too dark."

you fume lowly at the response. it's like every time you try to talk to him like a normal human being, he always has a way to make you feel less in return.

"i'll be back," he tells you and storms off.

you sigh as soon as the door closes. you need to do it quick and fast before he leaves. that it needs to be believable and there's a big chance it might not work but you need to try.

scorched bay is the closest to dune and the further the ship drifts away, the harder and longer it will be to get back to your father and minsoo.

you make yourself more presentable during the time he's gone, waiting in apprehension because as soon as he comes back, you have to strike immediately.

when the door finally creaks open again, you jump up so fast, san might think you're just that excited to see him again.

"what do you want?" he asks, already able to tell from your body language you want something.

"san," you roll his name off your tongue, making sure you sound soft and sweet, watching the way he blinks at such a tone, "i really need to use the restroom."

"go in the bucket," he replies coldly.

"no, but, i-i'm not used to it yet. can i please just go out to use the restroom? just this once? i promise i'll return as soon as i'm done."

he exhales in annoyance, unable to believe you're doing this right now.

"please?" you try again, even more desperate this time. "i also want to see scorched bay just once. i've never been out of dune. i-if i try anything, you can do whatever you want to me."

you say the last line a little too boldly though a little regretfully, the consequences of the words slipped not even in your mind at the time you said it.

"anything?" he repeats after, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

you nod hesitantly, feeling yourself shrink when he steps closer to you.

"remember your words, princess. because if it turns out you have other things in mind, don't say i didn't warn you."

--

it was obvious he wouldn't send you alone, but you were surprised he didn't go with you himself and instead sends one of his men.

he's trailing behind you, eyes burning into the back of your head and never failing to remind you that he's watching your every moves.

you walk through the crowd of townsfolk, able to see mountains and trees peaking from behind their heads, and shops and stalls everywhere.

the place similar to dune but much livelier and spacious if judging by the amount of people there are compared to the small town square back where you came from.

you find yourself smiling and stopping in place to admire the new but almost familiar setting, the hit of nostalgia already through the roof even though you haven't even been away for that long.

it makes you miss the place, and more importantly, it makes you miss your father and minsoo.

"hey," the voice from behind knocks you out of your thoughts.

you snap your neck around to san's man's stern gaze as he ushers at the road ahead.

"no looking around. we have to get going."

"i was just admiring the scenery," you reasons, much to the continuously cold shoulder.

"doesn't matter. now go." he slightly nudges you by the back to keep walking and you scoff at the physical force.

what the hell is wrong with all these men and their need for aggression?

you avoid the hair raising at the back of your neck and keep walking until you finally spot a public restroom, turning around to tell him you'll be back.

"make it quick," he says rather harshly and a bit annoyed, much to an eye roll from you as soon as you turn the other way.

the women's restroom is a small four stalls with tan brick walls, your eyes scanning every corner for an escape route--immediately landing upon the lone window sitting at the very top of the biggest stall.

it looks like it could barely fit you but you think you might make it. you have to try. you just need something to help you get up there first.

thankful that no one's here to see such madness, you step inside the biggest stall and of course, there's absolutely nothing here that could help you reach that height.

you bite at your bottom lip, trying to reframe from panicking and pacing around the open space of the stall when it clicks.

you can just use the toilet itself as a stepping stool. it's not high enough, but it's a start and you'll be able to open it up from where you are.

the rest is up to your perseverence and whether you can really push yourself up and through such a tight opening.

there's no time to think the plan more through or pick out the flaws, because the longer you're in here, the more suspicious san's man will get.

you step on the toilet seat before moving up onto the tank, reaching your arm out at this angle and easily pushing the window open by the handle as you can hear the glass thump quietly against the other side of the wall.

on your tippy-toe, you grab the other side with both arms and grip it with all your strength, scraping the walls with your feet to help your body over it.

the good thing is that it's grass you'll be falling into. the part where you didn't think through is that you'll be falling face and head first.

thankfully, it's not too high but there's no way you'll make it out without getting some form of injuries.

you probably just stare at it for a few seconds, contemplating just about everything and if you really wanna do this, until the loud knock at the door with your name echoing from the other side reminds you just once again of how much you'd rather break a neck or a leg than to be stuck on that ship for who knows how long.

the pain is quick at first, your arms having covered your face as you brace the fall and land hard against your back. it doesn't really hurt till it settles in, the ache and burn on the surface of your skin that has been scrapped on the way down.

the amount of trees luckily covers the scene, and though you're still sore and hurting from the fall, there's no time to waste as you stand on your feet and limp away the best you can.

that if you can get far enough; if you can stay in hiding for a while, you'll be free again. you can go back to living the life you once were and be able to return to your father.

the townsfolk are probably only able to help you as much as the people in dune can--as in they're completely powerless when it comes to a crew like halateez so it's best you don't trouble anyone.

the best bet for now is to stay in hiding until you're safe and then go from there.

you manage to make it to another public restroom, using the crowd and scenery to blend in, running to the men's this time because it would be harder and unpredictable if they were to try to find you.

you breathe an air of relief when you finally sit down on the toilet seat, your back and just about every bones still sore and hurting but you're just so happy to have come this far.

the front of your hands and elbows are bleeding, using the toilet papers to quickly mend away the pain for now until you can get actual help later on if you make this.

then you wait and wait, each steps whether loud or quiet into the restroom making your heart jump in uneasiness, until a ruckus outside takes you and what sounds like about everyone's attention.

that must be them--san and the rest of his men doing what they do best; doing the same thing they did to the people of dune.

the voice confirms your suspicion, though it doesn't belong to san, the familiarity still rings a memory so clear.

"listen up! we want a thousand coins from each house within an hour! if you don't have it, you better find a way!" the man threatens, his right hand holding a gun that sits on his shoulder so smoothly.

you hate them so much. every one of them.

what rights do they think they have by taking away from others and playing god?

you wish you could do something but the hard to swallow truth is you can't. if you could, you wouldn't have been in this position in the first place.

you're no different than anyone currently being held hostage and threatened by these stupid pirates.

so you wait some more. wait so long that you've lost track of time and the night has gone so quiet, you haven't heard a single footstep or any signs of life nearby for a while now.

maybe you should wait it out longer until the sun comes up at least and increase the chances of being in the clear, but it has very certainly turned dark quite a while ago and probably past midnight.

you can feel the goosebumps on your skin raise from just the realization that you're alone in the restroom at night in a town you have little knowledge regarding.

it's way too quiet and late for halateez to still be at the dock.

san said they'd be leaving before it gets dark, and surely you don't mean that much to him just yet that he'd make the ship delay their route when he hasn't even known you for a week.

you can probably make it to the town hall, recalling seeing it on your way and maybe ask if the mayor or anyone can help.

you don't know if you can bear staying here for another hour.

quietly peeking out the stall, you walk with cautious steps and a conscious fully alarmed when exiting the restroom, ignoring spine-chilling sensation you get from the setting as you make your way to the town hall following a path you believe should lead you there.

the closer you get, the smaller the anxiety brewing in your chest becomes, feeling as if safety and security is only so close, you can reach it if you just walk a little faster.

your pace picks up and for a second there, you see the light. your heart beating faster and your breath harsher from the distance traveled here, because just a little more and you'll make it.

all it takes for your dreams and such a bright future ahead to be crushed is the sudden hand that appears out of thin air and latches onto your wrist at such a speed you can't even react to as it flings your body to the side and drags you away.

you think the same man san sent found you, when the figure comes to an abrupt stop and turns around, wishing that it had been him instead of san himself.

you swallow in fear, never in your life have you ever felt so scared before.

he stares down at you still in his disguise except the mask that has come off, a burning look of anger in his eyes and you can't predict what he's gonna do at all.

you fucked up. you officially got caught and ruined probably your only chance of ever escaping.

god, you feel so hopeless.

"what did i fucking tell you?" he growls lowly into the night, feeling his grip on you get tighter with every spoken word. "i warned you, didn't i?"

you're in such shock, mind out of ideas until the only thing you can think of in the moment to still possibly salvage the situation is to immediately scream for help.

you barely get more than one shriek when san pulls you toward him, flushed against his chest and one hand gripping at your jaw to shut you up.

"if you know what's good for you, you'd shut up and go back nicely. besides, what can these pathetic people do for you? you'll end up right back in my arms either way."

you spit in his face, pushed to your absolute limit and way past the point of caring.

"fuck you," you curse at him. "i will never like you. i hate you. hate you, you hear me?" you deliver your words with such boldness and resentment despite the tears starting to brew.

you almost expect him to hit you, but instead, he hurls out a deep and sinister chuckle, wiping the spit off with his free hand and angles you to look up at him with the grip he still has on your jaw.

"since you love spitting so much, i'm 'oughta teach that mouth of yours some respect."

you have no idea what he means until he suddenly crashes his lips onto yours in a swift motion, allowing you no room to breathe except to stubbornly close off your own lips and deny him any entrance or satisfaction.

though you're desperately trying to fight back, both palms at his chest trying to push him away, he barely moves from his spot because he's so much stronger than you.

not only have you ever felt so hopeless, but now also violated as this person who's already stripped you of your future is trying to take ownership of your body, too.

it's the longest few seconds of your life when all you can focus on are the sloppy movements of his tongue, finally able to free yourself when he loosens up, pushing him away as you weep quietly into the night.

you don't get the time to mourn or cry about the fact this man just took your first kiss by force given he has no sympathy and only seems to care about himself.

"if you wanna make it through the night, you better keep that mouth shut and rethink any other ideas you have in mind, because trust me, i can do much worse."

you absolutely don't doubt he can, which is why you keep your sobs quiet while he drags you by the wrist to that godforsaken ship you thought you would never see again.

"san, it hurts," you try telling him plenty of times throughout the trip back only for your pleads to go in vain.

he doesn't care how tight he's holding onto you or how fast he's walking and that you're unable to keep up. this is your punishment for what you've done and he's gonna make sure you feel the wrath of it.

when you guys finally aboard the ship, he drags you through the few people watching just as harshly.

some wearing the same outfit as him but with masks on and some without--one of them you recognize as jongho, and then the rest in much casual attire similar to the man san sent with you in the first place.

you meet jongho's eyes briefly and you can't tell if it's sympathy that's present in them due to how fast san is moving until the door to the cabin you've been trapped in for the past days is standing in front of you.

with a quick unlock, it all happens so fast you can't even process san tossing you onto the bed until you're planted face first, turning on your back only to cower away in fear of what he's gonna do--especially now that you two are actually alone.

you're able to make out his features better in the ship's lighting, a look of unamused and anger crossing both at once that makes you regret the events of today.

he gave you a clear warning and you defied it. there's no way you're coming out of this unscathed.

and you don't wanna think about what could be even worse than forcefully shoving his tongue down your throat.

there's a few seconds of stare off as you try to predict his next moves.

"you're sleeping in the bed with me from now on. i don't wanna hear it," he tells you sternly.

you keep your mouth shut, knowing that continuously pissing san off is probably the last thing you wanna do right now, especially after having annoyed him enough for today.

"did i make myself clear?"

when you don't say anything, he walks closer that you can barely stutter out a, "y-yes."

"great. when i come back, i better see it."

and he walks out, the aftermath of the door shutting is the first peace and relief you get after being in the presence of him.

you really don't wanna do it but there's no other choice. you've ran yourself into this corner and the only way out--at least for now--is to abide by his rules.

you finally hop into bed after a few minutes of mentally battling yourself.

being able to sleep on an actual bed for what feels like a while is the upside, so it sucks that you're gonna have to share it with what is basically the spawn of satan himself.

you just hope to fall asleep fast enough so you won't have to deal with it when he actually comes back. praying that when you wake up the next morning, he'll also be gone before you know it.

but too much is going through your mind; your thoughts absolutely consuming, that before you can even black out, you hear the fidgeting of the door handle and then the opening of it, much to your disappointment.

you force your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep but the smallest curiosity has you opening just one eye to see what he's doing, having to keep from reacting when you can make out his shirtless torso.

when he senses some movements and suddenly snaps your way, you have to keep up the act of being asleep although the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor makes you extremely uncomfortable.

it gets harder to keep it up the second he starts crawling onto bed, pulling up the blanket to situate himself under and then next to you, his chest now flushed against your back and you just wanna kick him off already.

you think it can't get any worse but he proves you wrong by snaking an arm around your waist and practically crushes you with his own skin until you can feel something hard rubbing against the back of your thighs.

"i know you're not asleep," he whispers into your ear, the surprise making you flinch as your eyes open fully to darkness.

you can't see him but you can hear his genuine and amused laughter, immediately attempting to pry off his arm much to no use.

"shhh. don't try to fight it."

and maybe the weight of today finally hit you, because you don't even have the strength to fight him anymore. between sleeping in the same bed with san and him occasionally placing small kisses at your neck, you eventually manage to fall asleep.

the next couple of days goes by with you holding your breath every second you're with him.

he has become stricter; although he didn't let you out of the cabin before, he's now made it an official rule you cannot go out unless he gives you permission.

if he has to leave for his daily business, he makes one of his men guard the door outside and practically has you on watch 24/7.

if he can't bring you food himself, he'd also leave it to them. your whole entire world is basically the perimeter of this room.

you have become so bored (though you've rather be bored and not have him here than be alerted with him), you begged him to let you do something or at least give you something to do.

he dropped off a bunch of books and told you to "do whatever you want with it."

he also tries to treat your injuries at one point despite your stubbornness that finally shows its head again after some time--a stubbornness that only gets worse when you discover something.

because just when you think san's already cruel enough, he goes even further to really show you just how much of an asshole he really is.

the first argument after your little attempted escape happens the night they return from port cove, when you happen to see the man who accompanied you that day to scorched bay when you needed to "use the restroom".

him and someone else were assigned to keep watch on you while the rest were out doing what they do best to the new place they just arrived in, and you just so happened to see him all bruised and battered through the small crack of the door window, or at least in a recovery state where you can still see very clearly the marks made on him.

you confront san as soon he walks into the room and starts his usual undressing for the night.

"were you the one who did that? to the guy that was with me at scorched bay?" you ask, sitting at the edge of the bed.

he almost has to do a double take, the question catching him offguard but not more than the fact you're even talking to him. you usually never do.

"yeah?" he answers, more like a question in return because why are you asking.

an inaudible gasp leaves your mouth at that, the reality setting in that this is who you're really messing with.

someone capable of inflicting physical harms onto others without an ounce of regret or sympathy.

"why?" he adds, his tone starting to sound more taunting. "you have something to say about it?" his head tilts at you mockingly, his hands stopping short at the waistband of his pants.

you gulp before speaking, "i-i just don't think you should've done that."

"and why not? he's one of my men. shouldn't i discipline him if he fails to carry out an order?"

"but it wasn't his fault."

"then whose fault was it?" he tests you, mirth in his eyes and if you could, you would punch him.

"m-mine," you stutter out.

he moves closer to you, your body naturally shrinking and your throat feeling tight.

"then should i punish you instead?" he bends down to look you in the eyes but you're quick to avoid his gaze, grabbing a pillow to stand up and head for the floor at the end of the bed.

"just being with you is already enough of a punishment," you mutter to yourself but you know he hears it, if the chuckle from behind means anything.

"i'm sleeping on the floor tonight," you tell him, setting the pillow down and immediately laying flat, regretting starting the conversation and now just hoping he'll leave you to be.

surprisingly, he shrugs it off and doesn't fight you on it.

"your choice. but if the waves ever gets too much and you wanna hop in bed again, know i'll always welcome with open arms."

the way he says it makes your skin crawls, feeling more annoyed than ever and just wanting to fall asleep for the sake of it all.

"goodnight, love," he coos the same time the bed creaks from above, your only response is to let out a slight puff through your nose.

you probably haven't said more than three words to san in the past couple of days, going out of your way to avoid conversations and only giving him the cold shoulder whenever he's around.

you still haven't slept on the bed since and he doesn't seem to care about it despite making it one of the rules you have to follow.

maybe he's so relaxed about it because he knows you can't do anything even if you act as tough as a nail; at the end of the night, you're still stuck in this stupid cabin with him.

on a day you're passing time the only way you can, he busts into the room earlier than usual and knocks you out of the page you're reading.

"get dressed," he demands out of thin air.

"what?"

"change into something more fitting, i'm bringing you out to meet the rest of the guys."

the book in your hands is forgotten, the mere idea of finally getting the hell out of this tiny cabin more enticing even if you're gonna have to meet a bunch of other guys probably like san.

you're just happy to catch some fresh air in what feels like forever.

"what should i change into?" you ask, watching him walk over to the top drawer as he pulls something out, turning back to extend an arm.

you look down at the fabric and see what looks like a white dress, taking it from him with slight hesitance.

you're about to ask more questions but he's already walking past you, only muttering out, "come out to the deck when you're ready." and leaving you with no choice but to follow his order.

you inspect the piece more closely after, seeing it's a white square neck midi dress and just wondering where does san even get these things from before eventually changing into it.

--

even if you don't know the ship too well, it's not hard to find where exactly san wants you to be; the noises hard to miss and coming from one direction only.

you've never gotten a proper look at the ship considering the only times you had the chance to, san's quick to rush you through it, you've never even realized just how detailed and cluttered everything is.

ropes and barrels almost everywhere and the sea smells much saltier out here, watching the way waves crashes against each other in front of your very eyes just under your feet.

when you make it out to the deck and feel the first pair of eyes on you, it's as if everyone else follows and you suddenly become the center of attention.

the once loud chitters comes to a stop the second you arrive and all you can hear is the background music, scanning the surrounding and seeing jugs of alcohol and men of all kinds standing around with smiles on their faces moments just before you arrived.

you swallow the knot in your throat and look for anything to detract the attention--a familiar face maybe, spotting san at a table a few feet away with two other men before noticing jongho just mere inches from you and alone.

you've barely spoken to jongho but he's the only other person here that you know. and frankly, you feel a lot safer with him given he has shown to have at least some sympathy towards you.

you walk quickly and sit yourself down just right across from him; such choice taking him aback before he eventually breaks the ice.

"don't feel like sitting with san?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"don't feel like ever doing anything with him, to be honest," you let slip even though it might not be the best idea to bad mouth him in front of his people, but jongho just laughs it off.

"why are they all even looking at me?" you add, evidently bothered by all the stares.

"they're curious about you. we all are."

you sigh and roll your eyes at that.

"you all want to see the poor soul he has under his grip?" you say sarcastically despite the lack of animosity and that jongho actually comes off quite genuine.

"no. he just has been talking about you a lot. nonstop. aside from me, yunho, and mingi, none of the other guys and seamen on the ship has really gotten a close look at you. san's a bit stingy."

"stingy is an understatement."

jongho snickers lowly.

"it took a lot of convincing to get him to finally let you out here. hongjoong said it isn't good to keep you in one place for too long... that you might start going crazy."

"well, hongjoong would be right. whoever he is."

"hongjoong's our captain," jongho says, nodding off to a direction you follow, unexpectedly meeting san's unamused gaze. "the one on the left of san. and then to the right would be seonghwa, our quartermaster. when hongjoong isn't around, he takes the lead."

you raise a brow, quite unfamiliar with all these pirate terms but you're learning.

"and you guys steal for a living?" you quip, relieved everyone has gone back to chit chatting and minding their own business as more music and voices fill the background.

you can see the conflicts written all over his face. from what you've known of him so far, jongho seems like a rather decent person it's almost hard to believe he's one of the pirates currently posing a threat to the citizens of wonderland.

"we don't steal because we want to, but because we have to. i know it's hard to believe but it's the truth."

"you guys surely don't seem to feel very bad about it, though..."

jongho is silent, a part of him knows that you're not entirely wrong. but also not entirely right.

"some of us manages to stay true to ourselves despite the circumstances and some loses it along the way. just all part of it, i guess."

it's almost as if he's talking to himself, the bittersweet tone in his voice and the sadden smile, his eyes kept to the table until he finally looks up to you again.

"i know it doesn't excuse his behaviors, but san's had it quite rough before we eventually took him in as an official member. always been a little fucked in the head but he's reliable and gets things done, which is why hongjoong made him the gunner. his violent nature has benefitted us more than not."

you visibly grimace at such information, or maybe it's just the mention of san himself.

"so you guys just let him run loose and do whatever he wants?" like stealing the future of an innocent girl.

jongho recognizes your anger, knowing you're in the absolute right to cry, kick, and scream about this.

"hongjoong did advocated to let you go when he found out but san said you already saw his face and mine and that it would be too dangerous to let you go. i'm sorry."

you certainly wanna cry about just being let go and you won't ever tell on them but you know it's not even worth it.

"so what do you do? i mean, everyone else seems to have a role, you must too, no?" you switch the subject.

he chuckles, a soft smile on his lips after.

"i thought you'd never ask. i'm the crew's navigator. no one knows the ins and outs of wonderland better than i do. at least no one on this ship."

"really?" you beam, the first time you ever felt true and pure excitement ever since stepping foot here. "like... you also have a map?"

he nods.

"can i... can i see it?" you ask shyly, to a genuine giggle from jongho.

"yeah, of course. i was just gonna work on it."

you watch in amazement as he turns to his side to fidget at something before pulling out the rolled up map in the palm of his hand, spreading it out on the table as your eyes go wide.

"wow," you sing, one finger tracing along the drawn islands, towns, rivers, and just about everything with names labeled on each. "this is amazing."

jongho hums along, nodding.

"sorry," you apologize, blushing lightly when you realize just how excited you might've come off. "it might sound silly but it was always my dream to make my own map of wonderland."

"is that so?"

"yeah... i've studied charts, currents, winds, coastlines, and read just about almost everything from the local library regarding the geography of wonderland. of course, nothing beats actually seeing the places for yourself. i hear each maps are always a little different. some more detailed than others. still, i think it'd be fun to create one of my own."

"you can!" he says just as elated as you. "how about... i give you some papers and pens to start with? i mean, it's a start, right?"

"that'd be awesome. it would also really give me something to do in that tiny cabin."

you're actually having such a good time with jongho as he tells you about his finding, walking you through every little thing on the map until you're both joined by the addition of yeosang and wooyoung, two other official members of the main crew.

you learn yeosang is the officer, usually in charge of giving everyone else not on the main crew their daily tasks, and then wooyoung is the cook--the brilliant mastermind behind all of the meals you consume.

the three are so much more lighthearted and easy to talk to compared to san and the other two you had the displeasure of meeting first, you almost wanna be in denial that they're even remotely on the same team.

you might've gotten a little too comfortable and carried away by the presence of the three that you have forgotten about san and completely misses his disapproving gaze the entire time.

it's only when wooyoung suddenly stops mid-sentence and gulps down nervously that you ask what's wrong.

"it's probably best you return to san. he doesn't look very happy."

you glance his direction again and can feel the hostility from the distance, the way he chugs at his drink and loudly slams it down on the table after, the sight already making you dread having to be alone with him.

maybe you should've just sat with him. but then again, he did say he wanted you to meet the guys... which you did, a couple of them at least.

you frown at wooyoung's suggestion, your expression already enough of a response that you'd rather much stay here but you don't say it, instead opting to watch san get out of his seat and laser you a glare before storming off.

you just roll your eyes in return, hoping to resume whatever conversation you were having with the guys and not have to worry about what awaits you after all this.

the rest of the night goes by and you probably feel the most relaxed you've been in a long while, only trying to enjoy the small moments and not think about what horrible things these guys are capable of in spite of actually being quite nice to talk to.

hongjoong and seonghwa shortly introduced themselves after san's departure, and the longer you're with hongjoong the more you can understand why he's the chosen captain.

something about him; the way he talks and presents himself, an aura so strong that you can feel it by just briefly locking eyes for a few seconds.

he controls the topics and knows exactly what to say to keep it going.

seonghwa is a lot more soft-spoken on the other hand, the kind to let things flow and let the people around him talk rather than take charge.

point is, you had a much better time than expected, you don't even wanna go back into that suffocating cabin if not for the night slowly coming to an end.

you bid farewell to the guys and make your way back to the cabin with a tight throat, every second closer to the door makes you wish you could turn back the other way.

you can see from the small window it's pitched black, knocking twice quietly with baited breath before just twisting the knob and finding it unlocked.

keeping the door opened while you reach for the lantern on the side, you jump the second the room lits up and you're finally able to make out san's eyebrows creasing together and with a gaze that could kill while he's sitting on the end of the bed with hands planted onto the sheet, having waited for you the entire time and not asleep like you thought he was.

"had your fun?" he speaks with a tone you can't quite read into, head lowering to the pen and parchment paper jongho had given you.

you clear your throat, shutting the door behind and setting both of it down on the free space shared with the lantern.

"yeah," you answer casually, unaware to the bubbling tension and that such carefree attitude might just be making it worse, walking past him to head for your clothes sitting on top of the drawer. "the guys were a lot more tolerable than i thought."

you mumble the same time you grab your clothes, "i'm gonna change so if you can--" your words dying in your throat midway when you barely spin around and san's already standing tall in front of you, you're literally only centimeters away from bumping into his chest.

"--go out," you finish off awkwardly, the way he has you cornered suddenly shifting the atmosphere--or maybe you just haven't noticed.

"thick-skinned of you to be acting so modest now when you were just throwing yourself at everyone earlier," he accuses, that same look of anger showing but now with something else as well. jealousy.

you retract, offended at such false claims.

"what the hell are you talking about? you wanted me to meet them and i did. that was all that happened."

"all that happened, huh? well you seemed to really enjoy yourself out there with all the attention."

you're in complete and uttter disbelief, you're not even sure what to say; only feeling smaller with his voice raising over you with such ridiculousness.

"whatever, san. think whatever you wanna think, but if you can leave for just a minute so i can finally--"

the clothes fall out of your grasp when he roughly grabs at both your wrists and cuts your words short due to the shock.

"you know what i hate more than a disobedient little bitch?" he growls lowly in your face, the goosebumps on you raising at that. "a disobedient little bitch who's also a whore."

he throws you onto the bed so fast you can barely process it, your worst fear coming to life when he crawls on top of you and traps you in between his arms.

your breathing becomes hitched and you try with your utmost strength to push him away but the effort goes to waste, his hands going to restrain your own as he pins them down onto the sheet beside your head.

and as if you haven't learned your lesson the first time, you spit right in his face again and he's expectedly pissed off about it... more than he already is.

he lets go of one of your hands to shove it under your dress to your protest, kicking with your legs and pushing with your free hand so he doesn't reach the place you're most afraid he would.

"san, please... stop," you cry, all you can do is hit his shoulder pathetically with whatever strength still left in you, but of course, he doesn't listen.

you feel his fingers sneak past your undergarment and to the very spot you've always thought only a lover should feel and see. not someone like san.

the warmness of his fingers running along your flesh has never made you feel so dirty in your life, but when you look into his eyes and see the sinister smile plastered so smugly on his lips, all you can feel is hatred.

his fingers entering you makes you shutter in disgust even if you arch your back slightly and let just the smallest moan slip, you realize in this very moment where you're powerless, the only thing that still holds some of that power are your words.

so you aim to hurt.

"i don't care. you can take my body, you can take whatever you want, but you'll never take my heart. i hate you and i always fucking will!" you shout at him, some of the smugness disappearing slowly at that.

"shut the fuck up!" he curses back, his speed picking up with his anger, but you just keep going.

"you ruined my life! i was doing just fine before you came along, and i already have someone i love! if you didn't take me, i would still be with him!"

that seems to about done it, his fingers stopping the same time his chest heaves in and out with fumes brimming under his nose.

"you think i give a fuck about that? about him? about whether you two loved each other?" he gets in your face. "you're mine now and i can do whatever i want to you."

you're just about to bite back when he roughly takes your lips in for a messy kiss and his fingers in your core goes back to pumping in and out at such a pace that has you almost squirming.

you shouldn't feel like this. you should only hate everything about this but your body has a mind of its own and you can't deny the pleasure overflowing from the work of san's fingers.

he's kissing you too roughly--biting, pulling and tugging, you have to brace your hold onto his shoulders just to keep from falling out of place.

"you act like you hate it, but you actually fucking love it, slut," he pulls from the kiss briefly to say, not allowing a response from you before crashing his lips onto yours again.

it all goes on for a while too long until you feel the walls of your vagina close in on his fingers and he finally pulls out with a plop the same time he breaks the kiss.

you feel dirty, used, and pathetic after. especially still laying in bed trying to catch your breath with your core still soaking wet, watching as san says nothing but gets up and leaves the room with a slam of the door.

you haven't seen san since he stormed off two days ago after such an experience that you'd rather forget about.

every time thinking back to it, you feel disgusted with yourself for even finding the slightest pleasure and enjoyment in a moment where you shouldn't--the guilt building in your stomach whenever the scene plays out again, and all you can think of is minsoo.

it's as if you've betrayed him--letting another man touch you in ways he shouldn't be allowed to.

different people comes in and out through the day to bring you food, each of them you cannot put a name to.

it's usually at 7 p.m. where your last meal is delivered, expecting for another nameless face to show but is taken aback when you see it's jongho himself.

he has a plate of cooked fish and water on the side, greeting you with a thin smile as he steps into the room and sets the food aside.

"how's things going for you?" he asks, voice a tinge of pity already.

you've been busying yourself with the same parchment paper and pen that jongho gave you, having drawn the cardinal directions and just about almost every islands belonging to those areas that you're aware of--its existence at least.

"i'm... alive, i guess?" because you're not really living. at this point, you're merely just breathing and coping. "how about san? i haven't seen him in two days."

it's not that you care. you much rather prefer it this way, but you just wonder what else he could be doing.

"he's upset."

you scoff, genuinely surprise someone like san can even remotely feel such an emotion.

"about what?" you ask dryly because you're failing to believe it.

"he wouldn't tell us all of it, but something about you having another lover already."

you keep quiet out of incredulity, because he can kidnap you and force things against your will, but dare you say something back that holds some truth and he's like a wounded animal.

"he said he'll be coming back tomorrow," jongho informs, seeing the irritation mixed with horror that crosses your face the second you hear those words.

"listen, y/n," he continues, voice still full of that softness you know jongho to sound like, but it's similar to the first time he met you in this cabin again, almost as if he's lecturing you. "i know it sucks."

"yeah, it does suck," is all you say, at this point derived of pretty much all hopes and chances of leaving this ship.

"but if you want to raise the odds of getting out of here, you have to stay on san's good side."

just jongho saying that feels like the first slip of sunlight you've gotten in ages; the revive of hope, even if only slightly. your eyes go wide and you can only stare before blurting, "you mean it?"

he still looks hesitant but eventually nods.

"we're now heading west... we've been for a couple of days now. i'm sure you're somewhat familiar with the myths regarding the seas surrounding the west. they're bigger, more dangerous, unpredictable... especially rocky port."

you only nod and continue to let him speak.

"it's the one place the guys want to avoid, though i've been trying to convince them we should try for it. i've been studying the currents and tide surrounding the area and i think we can make it there safely if we go at certain times but they still think it's too risky. lots of pirates and sailors are known to not make it out of the area."

"my point is," he adds, shaking his head as if going off on an unrelated tangent, "you have to convince san to head to rocky port. if he's with it, he might be able to get the rest to reconsider. and if you do make it happen, i'll help you escape."

your throat closes up, too much information to process and so many questions at once, but at the same time still able to feel the thrill from just the possibility of being free.

"how exactly is something i'm still working on, but i know all of their schedules; when san goes in and out of the cabin. i'll be the one to bring you food when most convenient and when i eventually think of something."

"but how am i gonna be able to convince him?" you ask, probably the part you're most confused about.

conflict is written all over his face before he answers, "you have to win his heart. whatever you have to do, it's the only way to gain his trust."

he looks over his shoulder to the door. "i have to go. i know this is asking a lot of you in return but there's no reward without risk, and we're both gonna be taking pretty big ones, so think of it as an exchange of favor."

when you don't say anything, he excuses himself, his back facing you.

"wait," you stop, just short of his grip on the door handle. "why are you helping me?"

you can see his smile from the side, his head only slightly turned back to look at you.

"because i think you deserve to choose your own destiny, don't you also?"

and even though he phrased it like a question, it's more of a statement because he doesn't let you answer, bidding you a goodnight and walking out leaving you to digest what happened just now.

--

you don't fully grasp the meaning of jongho's words until you're left to your own devices moments later, tossing and turning in bed.

“but if you want to raise the odds of getting out of here, you have to stay on san’s good side.”

“you have to win his heart. whatever you have to do, it’s the only way to gain his trust.”

the comprehension makes your skin crawls and you feel dirty all over again, similar to the last night you saw san.

but the cold, hard truth is that this is the world you're living in now. a world that you cannot survive in unless you strip yourself bare of any ounce of dignity and self-respect you have.

that if it's the only way you can possibly make it back to your father and minsoo again, you might have to take the chance.

betray who you are and lie in the face of the person you hate the most just to have your life back in your hand, though it should've never been taken in the first place.

san returns the following day just as jongho said he would; a creak of the door while you work on correcting details of the map, unmoved from your seat all day.

you look over your shoulder and merely meet his eyes but neither of you says anything before you pull away to look back down at the map.

there's a minute of silence just listening to him shuffle behind you, the small room allowing you to feel his presence not far away, glancing back as discreetly as possible to see he's unbuttoning his now white shirt.

if you have a choice, you wouldn't do it. but jongho's words ring loudly in your ears and all you can hear is the mission you're out to fulfill and the freedom that might come from it.

you take a deep breath and brace yourself for whatever's about to happen, sure enough that you've thought it through after a night of restless sleeping.

standing from your seat, you walk over to san and you can tell even he's surprise when your hands suddenly overtakes his on one of the buttons he's working through.

he glares at you, raising a brow in response.

"what?" he says coldly.

you clear your throat before speaking. "i-i just want to help you... as an apology for the other day."

you can barely look at him, afraid that he just might be able to see through you--and as much as you hate his guts, you have to admit he's attractive with very prominent features that complements the work he does.

he smirks at your answer because for someone like san, nothing strokes his ego more than thinking he's in the right; feeling your heartbeat multiply when he slowly pulls you in closer.

you thought you were ready to sacrifice anything but every inch of space closed off between you two, the doubts start creeping up if you truly are ready, given how much you actually wanna run.

"is that so?" his breath ghosts against your skin, proceeding to lift your chin up to lock eyes that has you blinking in apprehension; just the way he's staring at you sends a jump of butterflies to your stomach.

you only nod, trying to keep yourself from faltering on the spot when he goes to guide your fingers with the last three buttons, unclasping them one by one with a tension in the air that only grows when the last one comes undone.

his naked torso sits in front of you, and though you've seen it a couple times by now, you don't think you ever truly want to admire it more than right now, tracing the lines of his abs and rubbing over the bumps tenderly by your own doing.

soon, you take it upon yourself to pull the shirt off as it drops to the floor, the sight in front of you almost too delicious but wrong at the same time.

still, you have to get on his good side, staring up at him and biting at your lips like he's the only person you're ever gonna need for the rest of your life.

he's quick and fast to fulfill the look in your eyes, pulling you even closer by your arms until you're flushed against his bare chest and now trying to hide the fear despite knowing it's too late to back out now.

"how sorry are you, exactly?" he teases, eyes lowering to mock you.

"r-really sorry," you stutter out, attempting to keep the composure.

"then show me." he almost growls but it actually comes out a lot more mellow, his head dipping in for an immediate kiss that unlike any of the ones before, you don't fight it.

instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss like you mean it. like you don't actually loathe his guts and wanna throw him overboard.

clashing your tongue along with his and continuing that even when your back hits the sheet of the bed and he's hovering over you before pulling away, a look in his eyes never so hungry and desperate in his life.

you watch as he unbuckles his pants and sees the bump protruding from his underwear, time seemingly passing by so slow and torturous you just wish for it to be over with.

and after a couple more minutes of passionately making out (at least that's what it looks like) where he undresses you in the process, he sends his fingers down the same way they were in before the last time you two were in this position.

moans and cries of pleasure escapes your lips against your will until your vision fills itself with only stars, your skin also betraying you and shuttering when he whisper words of insults into your ear.

"you look much better like this. under me where you belong."

and when he finally spreads your legs and rules over your body the only way he can--a squirm leaving you when he buries his entire length inside your cunt, the conflict swirling in your stomach reaches its height.

you've ever only imagined doing such a thing with someone you love, your heart clenching and a lone tear escaping at the fact that won't be happening anymore.

despite still having your arms around his neck and displaying no signs of resistance, you think of minsoo and your father to get through with it.

that you're doing it for a greater good; a chance. and one day, it will be worth it, even if it doesn't seem like it currently.

--

you learn what it means to really get on san's good side. that only when you throw away any ounce of respect you have for yourself, that's when you get his in return.

he's nicer to you and talks nicer to you, a sweet tone always on his tongue every time he tucks a hair behind your ear or every time he meets your eyes--staring at them so lovingly like he wasn't the one bringing out tears from them not even that long ago.

but you go with it. of course you do. stare at him right back with blinking lashes and return the same sweet words you don't even mean, all because he finally lets you out of the cabin.

not only allowing you out when he says so, but whenever you want. whenever you wanna get some fresh air or just walk around the ship, he said.

doing so has led you into the two other boys you haven't properly met up until this point--yunho and mingi, who were almost as responsible as san for your capture, and who doesn't seem to be as approachable as the others, always with a cold look on both their faces.

it just makes sense they were the ones to help san.

but on the bright side, sometimes while on the deck, you'll catch jongho coming from his cabin or already at a table, always sending you a smile and a knowing look.

though san lets you roam freely, a luxury you've still haven't earned is being able to talk to anyone.

he doesn't seem to trust you regarding that just yet, or maybe because every time you bring it up, there's still always that tinge of jealousy present similar to the first night when you finally met the other guys.

luckily, you don't have the need to talk to anyone but jongho, who does so as he said he would--sneaking an appearance in one day when it's time to eat.

it's also the one thing you told san you'd be okay with still doing in your room even if he gave you permission to go out with the rest. all so you can get the chance to speak one on one with jongho to know where exactly the plan is heading.

"how are you doing?" he asks, sitting across from you in the spare chair as you make the end of the bed your home.

to be in your position is tough. he knows this. he didn't wanna say it. tell you what you really have to do to get someone like san to even remotely look at you as a person of your own.

"it's been alright," you answer, doubting for second if it's the right one.

if you truly have been brainwashed, used to being confined down here like a prisoner all day that even being able to go out and catch some air is considered a privilege.

you should be more bitter and spiteful because in the end, no matter how high the highs are, it's still at the cost of yourself.

"i'm sorry again. for making you do this. it's... the only way i know how to get you out."

you shake your head, again with the half-baked lies you're feeding yourself, but you need the push to keep going so that the reality doesn't set in. something positive in all of this mess.

"it's fine, trust me," you tell him, as much as you're trying to tell yourself. "i'm okay. as long as we go through with it, it won't be for nothing."

because san's actually quite tender and loving after sex; his temper and need for aggression seemingly having died down after the first night and you're at least glad for that.

jongho stays silent, maybe a part of him already knows how you're feeling even if you don't say so.

"we'll be hitting up mist island tomorrow. it'll be the first place from the west. shortly after should be rocky reef. you have about four days from now to convince san. after reef, if we don't head for port after, the guys will make a detour and it'll be too late."

"also," he adds, "it's best you don't wander while we're still in the west. again, the waves are more aggressive here and it's gonna be pretty hard on the ship for the meantime."

you nod understandably.

"no chance of us flipping over or anything?" you let the joke slip as an attempt to lighten the mood.

jongho snickers lowly.

"i hope not," he replies with the same lighthearted tone. "no, but really. we'll be fine. i've advised them to take a less taxing route."

you smile at that, though the idea of the ship overturning doesn't sound too bad, especially if it takes san with it.

jongho goes on, "by the way, just so we're clear and you're not thinking why i didn't help you sooner, if there's a place that you'll have the best chance of successfully fleeing, it'll be rocky port. i heard they have one of the best systems, as well as some of the best sailors and navigators to know the sea due to having lived in such a rough area. it will be your best bet back to dune. plus, you said your father is sick?"

"yes."

"they have good medicines. plants known for curing diseases no man was able to. if you do return, it might help your father."

you've never felt happier (at least in the entirety you've been on this ship) that you might not only be free from san's grip but that there's also a chance you'll be able to help your father if he already hasn't gotten better.

"if i'm able to convince him, how would we go at it if we do get there?"

he quirks his lips slightly. "you make up some kind of excuse and i'll fight to be the one to escort you, whatever it is. from there, i'll give you all the coins you'll ever need to get someone to take you back to dune, along with any medicines you need for your father which i should be able to acquire considering we usually tour the places out of disguise beforehand."

"and if san comes looking for me?"

"he won't. i'll make sure he won't. just stay in hiding and don't even come out until the crack of dawn. our ship should be leaving by then and i'll also make sure of that. we also won't be stepping foot into any of the south seas again and if san tries, you can put your trust in me i'll do everything that doesn't happen."

you don't know whether to be impressed or scared the fact jongho seems to have thought just about everything through.

"thank you, jongho. really." your voice full of gratitude you can't express enough in words.

he smiles in response.

"no need to thank me. i'm just trying to do the right thing, i guess."

there's a few seconds where you guys just embrace the comfortable silence until jongho speaks again.

"i have to go. stay any longer and the others might start raising an eyebrow. good luck, okay? i'll talk to you soon."

you nod. "you, too. good luck."

it sounds like enough of a thorough and executable plan, right?

you can tell san's in the mood based on the first few gestures he makes when he gets in bed, usually whispering into your ear and running his fingers under your shirt if he's up for it--and delivering just a short kiss to your cheek and goodnight if he isn't.

when he sends a quick peck to your cheek, you're not surprise he doesn't want to tonight.

they'll finally be landing in the west tomorrow so the guys must've had quite a hefty discussion considering he was gone for most part of the day.

"san," you call his name quietly in the night, taking it upon yourself to start a conversation and shifting on your side to meet his eyes in the darkly lit room.

"yeah?" he replies.

he looks so calm in such a setting, his face deprived of any malice and signs that tells of the actual man he is.

"we'll be landing in mist island tomorrow?" you ask with feigning innocence.

"yeah."

"i-is it okay if i go out tomorrow? for a little bit? i really wanna see the place." you put on your sweetest tone because it's a genuine question. you do.

you've always wondered what islands, towns, and cities beyond dune are like, but even more so what's beyond the south seas. you hear they're more prosperous; filled with riches and buildings you won't ever see down in the south.

even the people are different.

but when san is seemingly unfazed, his thumb going to caress one side of your face instead, you already know the answer.

"sorry, dear. can't just yet. not until we get to the north at least. you'll be able to roam more freely then."

the north. you think of how nice that sounds. finally seeing for yourself what you've always dreamed of, as if places from fairytales you've been reading since you were a child coming to life.

but for once, you wish you won't have to see it. wish that the west--that rocky port is as far as you make it.

you take a deep breath, sighing into the night. "fine."

at least when they're gone tomorrow, it'll give you time to really think through a believable enough lie that'll get san and the rest to where you need to be.

--

the spot next to you is empty when you wake up, your head slightly throbbing whether from how the ship fought the sea of the west last night, or maybe it's the new chatters and voices of the morning.

one of the biggest signs of being close to land are the presence of other people.

the event of yesterday hits you, recalling the ship should now be in mist island, you're quick to peek outside the small window of the door, only able to see crates and maybe the heads of a few passersby.

it doesn't hurt to just get a glance, right? it's the least san should allow you to do if he isn't gonna let you out.

you twist the knob of the door, pushing it forward only to come face first with one of san's men standing outside. of course.

but the smell... it's fresher, your nose sniffing the air like a fish fresh out of water and the cold that grazes your skin along with a breeze is different.

you're not very used to such weather and condition because you grew up in the south where it was basically summer all year long--the reason why most of the places there are named either after the sun or the heat.

"you can't be out here," he tells you sternly that you almost wanna roll your eyes to.

"i know. i just wanna look for a bit."

you quickly scan the area (at least the parts you can see) with awe, noticing along the way the light fog that seems to grace the place permanently and sticking to its name of mist island.

the buildings isn't rundown or made of bamboo and whatever woods they could find, and though it doesn't hold the familiarity of dune and the south seas with townsfolk running all over the place, citizens still populates the sidewalks and talk to each other... in a more calm and tame manner.

no running or fooling around, a certain grace in even the way they stand, but especially in the way they dress.

no clothes that looks worned or unwashed, the fabrics clean and polished to the eyes.

"ma'am?" he breaks your train of thoughts, to which you really roll your eyes in return this time.

"i know."

you give the place one last admiration before stepping back inside the cabin of doom, jongho's words playing in your head.

"you have about four days from now to convince san. after reef, if we don’t head for port after, the guys will make a detour and it’ll be too late.”

you only have three more days. tonight, they will leave for reef and you're gonna need to strike as soon as possible--pacing around the room to think of anything you can possibly use against san.

he's an asshole, but he isn't stupid.

and after a few hours of going in circle, you think it just might work.

“they have good medicines. plants known for curing diseases no man was able to. if you do return, it might help your father.”

--

it's the next night after mist island and before they can even reach rocky reef. you figure the time is as good as now, giving san at least two days to think it through instead of stalling and only having one where he could possibly rush the decision.

his chest is pressed up against your back with his hard-on rubbing at your thighs, his fingers slowly sneaking under your shirt.

he's more likely to be in the mood on days where he does very little and has more energy reserved at the end of the night. you also made sure to be extra sweet to him today since you planned this out, but now going on to stop his hand short of reaching your breast.

"san," you call, similar to the other night.

"what?" he answers boredly, at this point already accustomed to you only calling his name when you need something, which you admit you're guilty of.

you turn to face him, holding your breath before spewing the first few words of the lie you've been brewing, having thought out every possible scenarios and responses ahead of time.

"i'm not feeling too well."

not only did you make sure you were on your best behaviors today, but you also made sure to act sick whenever he was around--coughing, sighing from time to time, lower energy, and maybe be a bit dramatic so he'll notice.

it doesn't seem like he did, or maybe he just doesn't care. but he won't have any reasons to doubt if you bring it up.

"i think it may be that i'm not used to the cold or maybe i caught something, i'm not sure," you add onto the lie when he doesn't say anything, only slightly raising a brow in response.

"and how long have you been feeling like this?"

"starting yesterday. i thought i was just feeling a little under the weather and it'd go away but it seems to have gotten worse today."

you wait in anticipation, not wanting to jump ahead of yourself. it's better you be patient and calculate the responses when the timing is right, but the way he looks just permanently stuck in a trance of thinking is slowly starting to tick you off.

"it shouldn't be too bad. it'll probably go away after a few days, and if not, we're reaching reef tomorrow and can get you something there."

well, he sure does have a way to disappoint.

"but what if it doesn't?" your pitch grows higher, even turning your lips downward for a pout. "c-can we go to rocky port after reef?"

you have expected the confusion to cross san and it's exactly what happens. but you also know that as much as san claims to give a shit about you, that reason alone isn't gonna be enough to move him.

"plus, wouldn't it also be good for you guys to go there? skipping an entire island means losing an entire island's worth of coins, goods... they also have advanced medicines and remedies. you guys can take some for the journey."

you can't tell if it's annoyance crossing him or he's just in deep thoughts trying to digest your words and weighing all the pros and cons of it.

"i'll think about it," he finally says after some time, much to your relief and joy.

it's a good start. not a definitive answer but at least he isn't dismissing the idea entirely.

"i'll have to talk it over with hongjoong and the rest first," he adds, to a nod from you and a smile he doesn't fully see in the dark. "if you're not feeling well, then get some rest . i'll talk to you in the morning."

he places a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to your blinking eyes.

"goodnight, san," you coo.

"goodnight."

--

you wake up a couple times throughout the night due to the harsher ripple of water, most of them to san staring back and attempting to calm you to sleep again.

for your final wake, he takes you into his arms and cradles you, resting his chin on top of your head that's buried into his chest as you close your eyes and let the drowsiness take over.

it's almost weird how safe you can feel in the presence of him in a situation like this.

--

the arrival to rocky reef is no different than before; only thing different is the time much later in the afternoon, allowing for you to spend some time with san, proceeding to ask him briefly before he leaves if you can take a look at the place from where you are.

he says to not make it too long, taking his official leave and sending one of his men outside the door again in replacement.

and if you think the people and buildings in mist island were nice, rocky reef is even nicer. it's plausible that at this point, the further you head north, the more sophisticated it will only get.

the entire time he's gone, you keep your head straight so you don't lose focus on your initial goal--that tonight, san has to make the decision or else it'll be too late.

"i got these for you," he says, handing you a bottle of pills after returning from the long day, his black attire still stuck to his skin. "you feeling any better?"

you shake your head, quite desperate at this point. you really need it to work or else you'd have to face jongho with the news of failure.

"not really," you answer, voice timid and sick to the best of your ability.

he doesn't say anything while he changes out of his shirt, facing you again when it's off--a look on him like something dying to leave his throat.

"i talked to hongjoong and the rest."

you keep calm and let him talk even if you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

"they said it'd be good to give it a try. rocky port... jongho's also talked about it before and knows a way around it."

"r-really?" your heartbeat seems to get louder, but this time out of relief and an excitement different from any before.

"yeah," he confirms, the smile on him morphing into a smirk at the state of you. "a bit esctatic, aren't you?"

you gulp. "well, yeah. i mean, i-i wasn't sure if it was gonna happen at all."

"it's gonna happen, and you have me to thank for."

the next two days are a mix of anxiety and thrill, now that you've set the course, all there's left is to execute it.

jongho shared a knowing nod just the other day when you passed by the deck, casually and naturally starting a conversation with you before quietly slipping a note that you opened only when you were alone.

i'm glad you followed through. i appreciate it. i haven't been bringing in foods because i want to avoid any attention and suspicions for when we do eventually arrive at port. i hope you're taking care of yourself in the midst of all of this. when we're there, i'll give you the sign and just follow my lead - jongho

you still carry on your performance of being unwell so san knows whatever he got you from mist island didn't work; the pretentious state serving you more benefits than you would've thought.

other than kissing you a good morning and good night and cuddling you from behind during sleep, he doesn't initiate any other forms of intimacy, you honestly can't believe you haven't put up the act sooner.

but even if he does, you console in the hope that in just a day, you'll be free from his grip forever; that you'll do anything in exchange for freedom even if that's spending another night with san, body tangled and having to catch your breath under him.

everyone has been warned to keep off the deck aside from jongho who knows the route more than anyone, so if san isn't stuck to the bed flipping through pages of whatever he's reading, he's sniffing the hair down your neck and taking interest in the progress you've made on the 'map' so far.

--

it's the most restless night of sleep you've ever gotten, having to reframe from tossing and turning due to your back being practically glued to san's chest, but you still stare into the darkness with a heavy heart.

everything you and jongho did is for this very moment. a part of you thrilled, of course, but another is also filled with doubts with just the smallest possibility of it going wrong.

what would san do to you if he found out? if he caught you in the midst of the plan and realized everything that has been going on. what would he do to jongho?

and exactly what sign is jongho gonna use? what if you miss it? your mind races with uncertainty, scaring yourself into sleep because you wouldn't want san to suspect why you're still up and about and with a heartbeat that's about to burst.

the morning after san leaves as he usually does, you pace around the room biting your nails in apprehension, eventually deciding to fold the map you've been working on the smallest you possibly can and shoving it into the pocket of your pants.

it's the only thing in this room worth bringing if you have to make a run for it now.

the voices outside seems to only get louder the more hours go by, and just when you're thinking when jongho's gonna give you any sort of sign, the knock at the door takes your breath away.

it's jongho, his expression neutral and eyes skimming past your shoulders into the room before uttering a "come with me".

you follow behind him to the rest of them on the deck, all their heads turning at once, but you especially don't miss san's--a rather unamused look on his face that makes you swallow the knot in your throat.

"i told you, i can take her myself," san says, glaring straight at jongho.

"no. hongjoong and the rest need you. it's best you stay here. we'll be back before you even know it," jongho assures, the way he talks full of confidence and you could almost believe him.

san fumes, annoyance written all over him, but before he can object again, seonghwa beats him to it.

"jongho's right. it's best he takes her. he knows the place better, and plus, we'll need you here in case anything happens."

you watch san struggle with himself, a word on the tip of his tongue not coming out and sighing in irritation until he eventually gives in.

"fine. but no later than evening, or else i'll come to scrounge these ground myself."

a calm smile rest at jongho's lips, his body bending forward to bow slightly. "of course."

as you follow jongho off the ship, you sneak a brief glance at san because if everything goes as planned, it'll hopefully be the last time you see him.

"what did you tell them?" you ask, when at a safe enough distance from the watchful eyes of the others.

"that it's best you go see a doctor," he explains.

"and where are we going exactly?"

"somewhere far enough from here," is all he says. you don't question him or even have the time to admire the scenery, your mind too entirely occupied by a single goal.

you just keep walking, not sure for how long but when jongho finally stops for the first time, your know your legs are gonna be sore tomorrow.

"here," he says, taking off the pouch that has been sitting around his waist the entire time and handing it to you. "it has all the coins you need to get someone to take you back and extra as well for anything else. i also dropped by the pharmacy as soon as we arrived and got what i could."

you're speechless, staring at the pouch a little too long. the moment bittersweet like saying goodbye to a lifelong friend.

"thank you, jongho," you tell him the same time you take the pouch, throwing it over your head and onto your shoulder like a crossbody bag. "i don't know how to thank you enough."

"there's no need. i already know, trust me," he comforts you with a smile. "you remember what i said, right?"

you nod, repeating the words he said to you last time, "stay in hiding and don’t even come out until the crack of dawn."

"good. i'll be on my way now."

you're surprise when his back is already to you and feet about to start walking away, your voice raising to stop him for one last time.

"jongho..."

he stops in place and turns to you only halfway, "yeah?"

"how are you gonna deal with it when san finds out?"

he smiles and proceeds to tell you calmly, "don't worry. i have my ways. good luck, y/n."

you take a short breath, choosing to believe in him.

"you, too. good luck, jongho."

6 months later

at the time, you weren't sure if it was gonna work; the chances of it all crashing down higher than not... but it did.

you stayed in hiding on a hungry stomach and barely any sleep even past the crack of dawn, the ship probably already gone for hours by the time you finally peeked around the corner, each steps bolder and closer to the dock to confirm the departure of the ship that filled your head with mostly negative memories.

from then, with the money jongho had given you, you were able to get someone to take you back to dune--the look on your father's face when you returned as vivid as the day it happened, as if you came back from the dead.

it's the same look minsoo and a few other townsfolk gave you, none of them able to accurately explain your disappearance; only that it happened the same day the pirates raided.

some thought you were dead, or worse--sold off somewhere, because there was no way a girl like you would be able to survive out in the seas with a group of thieves and possibly murderers.

they all considered your return a miracle, and so did you--the first couple of days bombarded with questions of your exact whereabouts and you remember not even knowing where to start.

you remember still processing everything and mourning for the life you thought you had lost; as if given another chance at it again.

everyone you told asked if you saw the faces of the pirates that took you, but you simply lied and said you didn't. you just think everything is better left in the past, not having to dwell on it or to want some kind of retribution for what happened.

you feel that somewhat and somehow, jongho must've known this; the fact you wouldn't rat them out.

but the event gave you a new outlook on life, how you used to want to get out of such a small place but now you have no other desire but to stay here with the people you love for as long as possible.

it taught you to be grateful for what you have because in any given second, those things could be taken away.

minsoo had been caring for your father during the time you were gone, and with the remedies and medicines jongho gave you, your father was able to recover within just a matter of days.

now, you've gone back to the routine of tending crops and animals with your father to make ends meet and you wouldn't trade it for the world--life seemingly back to just as it was before. safe and secure.

you spent the first two months in paranoia, afraid every single day that just by chance, jongho would break his promise or knowing how san is, he'd find a way back somehow.

only until you realized you were wasting more time worrying than living life did you learn to give it up. if he wanted to find you, he would've already.

but just because he wasn't next to you anymore didn't mean he still didn't hold some sort of power over you, ever since sleeping with him and doing things only lovers did, you no longer wish to do any of those with minsoo.

even if you hold great feelings for minsoo--feelings you can't ever hold for san, you can't help but to think of him at any thoughts of intimacy.

there isn't a single thing you're unable to talk about with minsoo, the boy the least judgmental person you know, but you won't ever tell him what you had to give up in order to come back to him.

--

the view from atop of the hill is the same as you remember, a few months ago your breath taken away when you finally saw it again for the first time in a while.

ever since, you and minsoo has been making it more of a habit to show--even more than before.

when you look out far enough, you can still picture all the other islands, towns, and settlements--most of them you've actually been to yourself. but now, only the mere idea of it sounds good.

you like being here, exactly where you are.

"so, you ever think of finishing the map?" minsoo would always ask, and you'd always tell him 'maybe'.

he thinks it's impressive but you wish he had seen jongho's work. sometimes, you get the urge to tell him about jongho and how much he helped you. but again, it's all things you wanna leave behind.

on the way home, you pick up a couple groceries to make soup for your father, learning new recipes a hobby of yours lately on top of picking up new books.

you've adapted to the routine even if it's repetitive, making sure your father eats before sending him off to bed so you can occupy yourself with whatever book you managed to find from the library this week for the next hour before calling it a night.

you're just about to sip on your tea when the knock at the door at such an odd hour takes your attention, placing the book down on the nearby table immediately and getting up from the seat.

if it's not minsoo, you don't know who else. unless one of the neighbors wanna complain again.

you fling the door open, a snarky remark already slipping because you're so sure it's minsoo. "why are you--"

but all you need for confirmation it's not him and that life really is so cruel and unfair, is for you to come face first with that stupid tattoo that is every reminder of the hell you thought you were free from.

that black ink on his chest in the shape of an ‘a’ and a circle you wanna scrape off just as much as the equally stupid smirk on his face.

"miss me, princess?"

a/n: story has been in my drafts for over a year now & iomt san rlly helped in finally making it happen. literally got most of my pirate knowledge from the one piece live action lmfaooo

[amomentsescape]

Hey, do you have any slasher X reader where the reader loves baking?

Slashers with Reader That Loves Baking

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu

A/N: Hmm... I don't think I do. Looks like I need to whip up another fic. Here you go!

Freddy Krueger

Although Freddy doesn't need to eat, he'll try anything you make him!

He's happy that you have a hobby that you enjoy during the day

He's even happier that he gets to taste the results

Whenever you visit him, he makes sure the dream world has a kitchen for you in case you want to make something while you're there

You're more inclined to bake there anyways because Freddy can get you just about any ingredient your heart desires

When you do make items, Freddy switches into his "Kiss the Cook" apron and matching hat

He may not help you with the baking, but he still expects kisses while you work

He'll stand beside you, just observing everything you do

He doesn't ask too many questions either, he just likes seeing you relaxed

Once the treats are ready, he literally stabs a few onto his knifed glove and eats them off of it

There hasn't been a single thing you've made that he hasn't enjoyed

Michael Myers

Michael is pretty neutral with your enjoyment of baking

He tends to his hobbies, you tend to yours

He doesn't feel like there needs to be any crossover of sorts

However, he won't deny you when you ask him to try things

And if you need help accessing the top shelf, he'll help you out

He secretly has a big sweet tooth, and your warm smile influences him to try everything (he'd be dead before he admitted it though)

He has a pretty basic taste in sweets too

He enjoys the majority of the cookies, cakes, and breads you've made

He isn't a big fan of pie or dried fruits though

If you make a batch of anything, he'll try a bite if you ask, but that'll be it

You're always certain he's just trying to be polite

But whenever you wake up in the morning, half the tray is gone

Michael will just shrug it off of course

But it's pretty obvious he enjoys your treats

Jason Voorhees

He absolutely loves that you bake!

To be fair, he'd love literally anything you do that makes you happy, but baking reminds him a lot of his missed childhood

You've made a couple things already that reminded him of stuff his mother used to make, and it almost brought him to tears

He doesn't really get sweet cravings like he did when he was younger, but he will never say no to trying something of yours

He also enjoys decorating some of the treats too

His large hands tend to fumble a bit, and nothing comes out as good as yours, but he's having fun, and that's what matters most to you both

His favorite thing is coming home after a long day to the smell of baked goods and to see you casually mixing ingredients together

You just seem so content, and it gives him a taste of what domestic life is like with you

He'll always come over to greet you with a hug, not caring if you're covered in flour

And once he's gotten cleaned up, he just sits at the table out of the way, watching you

He especially loves when you talk to him while baking

It just makes him all warm inside

Thomas Hewitt

He never really grew up with home baked goods like yours before, so it feels like literal heaven when he smells the sugar in the air

He likes walking up and peering over your shoulder, trying to see what you're doing

He also just likes hanging out with you in case you need help with anything

If your arms ever get tired from mixing or kneading, you know who to ask

If you let him, he'll take little tastes of the batters, predicting how much he's going to like them once they're done

(It's always a 10/10)

If it's sweet, he likes it

There's never been anything you've made that he didn't eat almost all of in one night

He loves if you make enough for the whole family too!

He's a bit hesitant to help decorate, and even more so to help add ingredients

But if you ask, there's no way he'd be willing to say no

Bubba Sawyer

He adores your baking!

He absolutely has no idea what you're doing half the time, but he's happy about it all the same

You've got to be careful with this one though

Because if you even turn around for a second, the batter is gone

Same goes for when the treats are cooling

If you leave the kitchen, they'll be gone within just a couple minutes

You have no idea how he manages to do it

At least he's showing you just how much he loves your bakery?

But besides that, he's a great hand to have in the kitchen

He can mix and mix for days

And he's always there to help hand you whatever you need

Just don't trust him with the powders unless you want a white, dusty kitchen

He's also not the best around the hot oven, having burnt himself a handful of times

It's kind of like having a helpful but clumsy child in the kitchen with you

But he's so sweet you can't bare to tell him to leave

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms never grew up with many sweets in the house

So having his own baker at home is like feeding a starving man

And with Brahms, you can imagine how that goes

Will come to you almost every day with a new treat he is craving

In fact, he even added to the rules list that you needed to make him a bedtime treat or else he refuses to go to sleep

You love baking of course, so it's not a problem, but some of his requests are absurd

A pie covered in chocolate ice cream smooshed with cookies and drizzled with brownie batter might be a bit much for a midnight snack

But you honestly did it to yourself

The moment he tasted your treats, there was no going back

And be careful when the sugar rush hits

He's ready to bounce off the walls with you in tow

Norman Bates

Norman has always been one for domestic hobbies

So the fact that you're a baker makes him feel so cozy and warm

Waking up to fresh muffins with his tea, coming home to a plate of brownies, and even being woken up in the middle of the night to some wild cookie recipe all makes Norman so happy

Jokingly complains that you're fattening him up

He's honestly a pretty good baker himself, although he argues that his skill is nowhere near as good as yours

But there have been a handful of times he prepare his own treat beside you in the kitchen, and it always came out amazing

And because of his experience, he's happy to give a lending hand when you need

If you're making something you know by heart instead, then he's still there beside you, keeping up with the dishes so you don't have to tend to a mess later

Norman enjoys whatever makes you happy, and is eager to learn even more about what you love too!

Billy Loomis

He's pretty chill about it at first

He thinks it's a cute hobby, but doesn't know much about it himself

However, the first time he was actually there with you watching you work and tasting what you made...

He really gained a better perspective on it

He can see the hard work and true enjoyment you put into the hobby, and this makes him appreciate it more

He's not huge on sweets, but seeing you put all of this together for him makes it impossible to deny them

Will be brutally honest if he likes something or not, but there's truly only been a couple times he actually didn't like what you made

Will occasionally sit on the counter beside you and just ask basic questions

"What does this thing do?" "How long does it need to sit there?" "Is there a difference between folding and mixing?"

You always smile at him since his genuine curiosity is cute

Plus, it shows he's trying to learn more about what you do

Will definitely stand behind you and rest his head on your shoulder while you work

Stu Macher

You love to bake? Well, Stu loves to eat

Match made in heaven in his eyes

He honestly is surprised by the amount of effort that it takes to whip up a simple cookie or cupcake

He's not usually on this end of the food process

But he honestly enjoys watching what you do

Will literally just stare and zone out, making you laugh

Loves loves loves when it's time to lick the spoon

He will dab batter onto your nose though

He's a huge fan of helping you decorate too!

Just be careful, because Stu is also a huge fan of squeezing the piping bag directly into his mouth

But surprisingly, Stu has become pretty decent at piping frosting and making your treats look pretty

He always insists on eating the ones you decorate though because they "taste better"

He honestly just loves being able to show praise for the stuff you make him and will always request a fun treat to accompany your weekly movie nights