#pls lmk if i dont tag something right

[tea-earl-grey]

PSA: im gonna be tagging "dw spoilers" for the new episodes for 1 week after they air. you have been warned!

[piplupod]

nooooo dont find omens in the otherwise explainable, you're so sexy ahahahaaa

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "shhh!" ⎯୧ (mjh)

+:🤎:﹤descrip. : some guy walks into the library ten minutes before you close! >:(

+:🍪:﹤content : sub!jaehyun x mean dom!reader, hand job, very slight overstim (had 2 do it 2 em), thigh humping (???), mentions of exhibitionism i think (anon pls lmk if im wrong again)

+:👓:﹤warnings : 18+ mdni 😁, female anat for reader, sexual language, yn calls jh mean names, if you wanna be 100% safe there's one more warning im gonna put in the tags bc i dont wanna spoil the story <3, please ignore the plot holes we r here to have a good time not a realistic one

+:📙:﹤word count: THIS IS 2.4K????

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“E-excuse me. Do you happen to know how I can get a library card?”

You look at the boy with a lifted eyebrow. His eyes are wide behind his glasses, and he’s playing with the zipper on his jacket.

Your eyes flick from him to the timestamp on your computer screen. 10:50 PM. You roll your chair to a cabinet behind the desk and grab a form. When you turn back around, he’s looking at you expectantly. You hand him the form and roll your eyes as he skims the words. It’s just basic information–name, birthday, address–that the library needs to send cards out. When he’s finally done, he looks back at you and pushes his glasses up.

“Could I…borrow a pen?” You hold back a huff of annoyance and push the pen holder towards him. He grabs one with a sweater paw and scurries to a nearby table. You finish up an email and sign out of the work computer. You’re straightening stray paper and pens when the boy comes back up.

“Where do I s-send the form?” You scoff. Has this boy never been in a library before?

“Just give it to me,” you say while holding your hand out. He places it, along with the borrowed pen, in your palm gently, and you place them both in their designated areas. You turn back around and he’s still standing there. “Can I help you?”

He hesitates, looking off to the side then back at you. He points a thumb to the back of the library, where the bookcases are.

“I’m just gonna…go look at the books.”

You look at the computer clock again.

“You are aware that the library closes in five minutes, right?” You’re already slightly annoyed that he walked in ten minutes before closing, then took five minutes to fill out four questions. You just wanna close up and go home.

“So…I should–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and instead just stares at you questioningly. You sigh.

“Go look at the books,” you say, because he seems like a nice guy, even if he is testing your patience a little. He nods and trots over to the cases. His hair flops as he jogs, and he’d almost be cute if he wasn’t the only person in the library three minutes before closing. Only the bottom two floors are open this late, but you’re sincerely hoping he stays on the first one.

The second floor is empty–you checked twenty minutes ago, and no one has come in since then besides him. You check it again to kill time, and cut off the lights when you confirm it’s still empty. 

In the elevator, you bring out your phone to check the time. 11:02 PM.

Back on the first floor, you straighten random chairs and clear off any doodles on the white boards. At 11:05, you walk over to the bookcases to look for the guy. 

“Sir?” You call out, peering around the corners of tall cases. You find him buried in a book with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. When you call out again, he looks up at you with wide, cute eyes. “The library’s closed.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry. I’ll just go,” he says, and you nod, but he doesn’t move. He just stands there and looks at you.

“Sir? I have to lock the doors.”

“Um, yeah. I was just– Could you actually help me with something?” You furrow your eyebrows. This section of the library doesn’t have a camera, so you’re hesitant about getting close to him. 

“I just need help making sense of this line,” he continues, and holds up the book in his hand for proof. You glance around the library, then back at him. He’s smaller than you, so you figure you could take him if it came down to it. You walk closer to him, between the cases, and look over the passage he’s pointing to. 

You reread it a few times and shake your head in confusion. You look at the outside of the book and read the title. When you look back at him, he’s already looking at you.

“Sir, this is the junior section. This is a book about fish.”

“I know. I’m just…struggling, I guess.”

“Okay…This says ‘After a preliminary courtship, the male escorts the female to a spot where a leaf or branch overhangs the surface of the water,’” you quote, and the boy nods. 

“It’s just saying these fish lay their eggs outside of water. What did you need help understanding?” You look back at him when he doesn’t answer, but he’s not looking at you. Well, he’s not looking at your face. 

His eyes are cast downward, focusing on your cleavage. You adjust your loose cardigan and regret not wearing a T-shirt (what were you supposed to do? It was warm outside, you thought you’d be fine with just a bra and a sweater). You watch as his tongue runs over his bottom lip.

His eyes flick back up to yours when you scoff. “Are you seriously looking down my shirt?” His face falls in panic.

“No, n-no. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did th–”

“You don’t know? Let me help you figure it out.” You step forward, and he steps back until his back is pressed against the bookcase. “You’re a pervert.”

He has the nerve to shake his head. “I’m not. Just listen to me, ple–”

“Tch. Why, so you can make pathetic excuses? Have you never seen a girl before?” You’re so close to him now, cornering him against the case, and he huffs out a breath. His hand trembles where he’s still clutching the book, and you look down at him. You actually laugh when you notice the tent in his sweats.

“You have to be joking. You’re getting off on this?”

His eyes squeeze shut, and a tear rolls down his cheek. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, you meant to. D’you walk into libraries right before closing just so you can wank off to the workers?”

You have to admit you enjoy teasing him, watching him grovel in front of you. The lighting in the library is dim, but you can see the pink dotting his cheeks. You wonder how far he’ll let you go, so you test the waters. 

You walk closer to him, slow enough that he can push you away if he wants to, but he doesn’t. When you’re close enough that you can feel his breath hitting your face in quiet pants, you press your leg against his crotch.

His mouth falls open and his eyebrows crease. You find yourself smirking. Of course he’d like this.

“Does this feel good?” His eyelids flutter and he nods, so you keep pushing it. “I bet you fantasize about being caught touching yourself. Bet you like an audience.”

He doesn’t respond, but he lets out a strained groan and his hips pivot so he can grind his bulge onto your thigh.

“Oh, my god. You do, don’t you?” Finally, he nods, and his hair bounces like it did before, drawing your attention to it. You reach up to run your hand through, yanking it back so he’s looking at you. “What’s your name?”

“Jae-” he gasps and closes his eyes when you press your leg closer to him. “It’s J-jaehyun. Please d-don't call the cops.”

You hum in thought. “Well, you are a freak, Jaehyun. But I won’t have you arrested. Let me help you out.” His eyes fly back open at that.

“W-what?”

You tilt your head at him. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be caught, watched, punished?”

His only response is a strangled moan. He holds your waist in place as he bucks against your leg. He’s like a dog in heat. You tell him such and watch as his entire body trembles.

“Didn’t– Ah, didn’t t-think you’d be so m-mean.”

“I didn’t think you would enjoy it so much.”

Jaehyun’s hips move faster and choked-off gasps fall from his lips. His glasses slip to the tip of his nose. You grab them and slide them on your face instead just to realize they’re not even prescription. His noises turn into small, pitiful whimpers and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Gonna cum already, Jaehyun? Are you really that pathetic? You’ve probably never even touched a woman.” Jaehyun squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head in the most unconvincing way possible.

“Aw, you haven’t, have you? Well, we have to make your first time at least a bit more special.” You pull your thigh away and back away from him. His hands fall from your waist and his hips twitch against nothing. He grip the edges of the shelves instead, pushing the books back and gasping loudly as his orgasm fades away. You corner him again.

“Look at this, Hyunnie. Can I call you that?” He nods and looks at where you’re pointing. There's a wet spot darkening the color of his pants. He’s still trying to catch his breath, but chokes when you trail a finger around the patch teasingly.

“You didn’t cum, right?” He shakes his head. “Damn, you must’ve really wanted this–you’re leaking. That’s embarrassing.” He whines and one of his hands comes to hold onto your arm when you grip him through his sweats.

“Please don’t l-leave me like this, need your h-help,” he says around labored breaths. His hips are already moving against your hand, and he whines again when you pull it away.

“Don’t worry, Hyunnie. I think you’ve learned your lesson. Not gonna jerk off in libraries anymore, yeah?” You ask as you loosen the strings on his pants and slip your hand down them. He nods deliriously.

“Good boy,” you mutter absentmindedly, and his eyes blow wide again. His grip on your hand tightens when you wrap your hand around his member. 

“Just touch– need you to touch me, please.” You squeeze his base, and his head knocks back against the books. “Please, p-plea–”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.” His mouth clamps shut. “I already said don’t worry. There’s no need to beg,” you say, even though his desperate noises are getting you wetter by the second.

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip and lets out a muffled groan when you slide your hand down his cock. It feels plump in your hand, but short in the way it doesn’t take you long at all to reach the tip. You rub into the tip experimentally, and Jaehyun’s entire body jerks in your hold. 

Your strokes start slow, but it’s not long before he’s fucking into your hand. He’s so wet the slide is easy, so you quicken your pace. His mouth falls open and he lets out rushed, high-pitched moans of ah-h, hah, hnn–

“Fuck, do you know how to shut up? This is a library, y’know.” It doesn’t matter–there’s no one here and the cameras don’t pick up sound–but you tease him just to see his eyes pool with tears. He doesn’t stop, keeps letting his unrestrained noises fall out of his mouth. 

You tsk and bring your unoccupied hand up to his face. You slip three fingers into his mouth and his lips clamp around them immediately. It effectively muffles his sounds, but there’s still quiet whimpers coming from him. 

“You’re sick, Hyunnie. Pulling me away from my work just so you could objectify me? Bet you thought about fucking me, huh? Thought about sliding your small dick into my cunt while you were filling out that form.” His eyelids flutter again as the dirty images flash across his mind. 

“You don’t even need a library card, do you? You probably have a stack from other libraries you’ve fucked yourself in.” Your wrist is starting to hurt, but it’s worth it to see the way his eyes roll back into his head. You stop jerking him off to massage his tip, play with his slit, and his mouth hangs open again. Your fingers fall out of it wet, and you wipe them on his jacket. He’s back to begging immediately.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, hmf– Need to cum, l-let me cum.”

You go back to stroking him and think about how you’re going to walk into work tomorrow, how you’re ever gonna walk into this section again after this.

You realize none of that matters when pinched-off, helpless whimpers begin falling from Jaehyun’s mouth. He’s so close, trembling in your hold, and when you nuzzle his neck and trace your teeth across his skin, he’s done for.

His head falls to your shoulder, and his thighs shake as he collapses against you. His cum is warm as it spills on your hand, and there’s so fucking much of it that you don’t know how you’re going to clean up this mess and go home at a reasonable time.

Jaehyun’s hips are still twitching into your hand even after he’s come down. He’s mumbling profanities as he drives himself into overstimulation, and you have to pull your hand away to get him to stop.

“Greedy boy. Look at the mess you made,” you say as you hold up your sticky hand. Trails of milky white stretch out between your fingers when you spread apart, and Jaehyun pulls your hand to his mouth. 

Your pussy clenches as you feel his warm tongue lick between your fingers, cleaning cum off of your hand. He’s so sloppy with it, making loud wet noises that echo throughout the empty library. When he’s done, he releases your hand and slumps against the bookcase. 

You giggle at the sight of him and rub your hands up and down his sides.

“Did you enjoy that, Myungjae?” You ask excitedly. It went pretty well, you think. He breaks into a smile of his own.

“Fuck yeah, we have to do that more often.”

You couldn’t agree more.

He helps you fix any knocked-over books and actually close the library like the sweet boyfriend he is, and spends the entire ride home proposing other dynamics for you two to roleplay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

a/n : i cannot stop writing sub jaehyun i am sick / i wrote this in a manic frenzy i was insane but i was free

[jikjinz]

[YOU GOT ME STARIN' LIKE A FOOL!]

requested? yes, for anon! 5, 18, 22 with Dobby pls 😽💕

❝stop staring.❞ ❝i can't, you're so pretty like this❞ ❝i can't help it, darling. i just want you so bad❞ ❝i will make you feel so good angel, trust me❞

from this list !

TAGS/WARNINGS: k.doyoung x fem!reader; kinda dom!reader and kinda sub!doyoung; tying up (doyoung), praise, attempts at dirty talk ig, edging??? grinding, mention of lingerie, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap yo willy or get ready to be stomped on), lmk if something should be added

891 words yall better be ready

a/n: the fact i wrote this in like an hour with few smol breaks only shows how down bad i am for this fool, especially after t5 and move mv. also if there are mistakes yall just pretend that they don't exist. it's liek 1:30am, instead of exist i almost typed axist and i really couldn't have cared less about anything rn. peace out

the view before you was breathtaking. you could stare at it for hours. unfortunately, the main character of the beautiful view was extremely impatient, wiggling and squirming under your stare, too flustered to say anything.

“stop staring!”

“i can’t! you’re so pretty like this.”

doyoung only whimpered at your words, his breath stuck in his throat when you got closer to the bed. dear heavens, he wanted to touch so much.

yes, it was his idea. it was his own mind that came up with such torture for him. wanting to try something new, doyoung suggested tying his hands to the headboard of the bed. it wasn’t the first time you took control over the situation, though it was the first time you could take your time with him, tease him, and enjoy the prettiest view you ever seen.

doyoung liked to be in control, or more like, liked to feel your body, your reactions, in general feeling you. sometimes it was hard for him to believe someone so precious loved him back. the thought of you, being in love with him, always made him go a bit dumb. and the fact that you were real, that you were under him, naked, in his bed just seemed like a fever dream. yet it was all real.

until now, where he could only look at your beautiful body, wrapped up in a cute lingerie, without the ability to touch your skin, to feel the weight of your body in his hands. but the mere sight of your heart eyes stuck on him, your mouth practically salivating at the sight of his naked body, and the way you pressed your thighs together at the slightest whimper he made… it all made him even more dumb.

“you look so- scrumptious right now.”

to say you were in awe would be a major understatement. you could stare at him like that for hours, he was just so- ugh! beautiful, gorgeous, stunning! and all of it only for you! and if you weren’t so needy for him, you probably would just stare at him for a whole day if not more.

sitting on the edge of the bed, you ran your hand through his messy hair, then cupping his face as you placed a loving kiss on his lips. his doe eyes, stuck on you and on you only, looked at you with that dreamy stare, the one you loved to see and the one playing with your heart, pride, and feelings.

“i love you, so- so much,” you started, caressing his biceps lightly as you finally straddled him, your ass so close his length it made him gasp for a sec. “and i want you so, so, so- much as well.”

doyoung was about to lose his mind. he wanted to scream, to break out, to finally fuck you properly, but shit, this stuff you did was addicting. he loved that, but if he had to wait even more, he would go crazy.

“doyoung, you are so impatient!” with a chuckle, you tapped his chest with your fingers as some kind of warning. though in reality, you were about to go insane any minute as well.

“i- i can’t help it, darling. i just- i just want you so bad- ah!”

you were a menace. a big one. doyoung was about to get off only by grinding your plushy ass, and yet you destroyed that!!! as you got up from him, doyoung whined, tears slowly forming in his eyes but when he noticed how hastily you’re taking off the lingerie (thankfully it didn’t have fancy clips), he smiled so brightly, like a sun after rain, reflecting in the puddles and wet leaves.

“i’ll make you feel so good, angel, trust me, but please, please, pleasepleaseplease just-”

the groan he let out at the end of the sentence was so hot your brain malfunctioned. and the fact that you were the cause of this heavenly sound got your mind run laps. so big laps that your pussy clenched around his length on its own, while your mind spiraled down and replayed that beautiful sound.

“fuck- angel you’re so- fuck, fuck! ah, shit-” that was all doyoung could say. his mind fogged with overwhelming pleasure, sudden yet so comforting tightness of your gummy walls had him choke on his words, moans, groans and the most beautiful sounds you ever heard.

you babbled nonsense, as your focus went only to the way his dick felt inside you. bucking your hips, bouncing up and down, it all was so… much.

“doyoung-! doyoung, i’m close, ah- fuck!” you were on fire but something was missing. somehow, the flame missed its match, which in this case was doyoung’s touch and his hand all over your body. as you hips met his half-way, your wobbly and slowly weakening hands clumsily managed to untie his.

the moment he touched you, the moment he touched your heated body, it was over you. as you screamed, moaned, and gushed over his length, doyoung only held you closer. as you chased after the last bits of that blissful moment, his lips managed to clasp with yours, ready to swallow every moan and whimper you made while he made sure to paint and mark your insides with his seed.

“we have to do this more often, darling.”

[bitesizedgummie]

HOLY FUCK AN INTRO POST!!

hi. hihi. its gummie!! here with an intro post!! finally! so here's some info about me

call me gummie, pickle, or....wtv ig idk man

i have names i’ll have u call me if u know me more personally as well! :3

he/they (🏳️‍⚧️❤️) also a femboy oops

aceflux! usually aroace (lmk NICELY if aceflux isnt the right term, i know it as like sexual/romantic prefs can vary)

taken. by my wonderful partner @danganronpagayedition

runs the ask blogs @little-guy-little-mouse (ryunosuke), @hearing-a-lot-of-things (athena), @my-horns-think-im-tall (apollo [might delete]), and @dolphin-luver (bachira)

i am a minor!! no inappropriate stuff pls :(

feel free to mention me in anything as long as it’s not weird or anything, i don’t mind :3

dni list

proshipper

racist, ableist, homophobic, transphobic, etc

former school friend i no longer talk to

heluva(?) boss/hazbin hotel fans (idk what’s up w y’all but i heard some of y’all nuts. if ur chill ur fine though)

overly religious (sorgy i have minor trauma regarding religion/religious friends so i don’t wanna risk it)

unnecessary info(+tag directory) has been banished to under the cut

tag directory!

gummierants - random rants or rambles that i manage to spit out

gummiedraws - doodles/art i manage to spit out

gummievents - vents that i usually spit out when i’m a bad mental state and need guidance

gummie watches (game here) - comments about a game im watching (current tags: gummie watches dual destinies, gummie watches blue lock)

gummiepolls - polls i run for sillies! i have this tag so you can check it for any ongoing polls about whatever the fuck :3

fandoms i interact with (not limited to this list, probably forgot a couple) ds = DON'T SPOIL!!! if i include this i am not yet finished/caught up w the series!! pls dont spoil/mention anythign past the specified point unless i specifically ask!!

ace attorney (ds - turnabout academy)

danganronpa

blue lock (ds - s1 ep 13)

rhythm heaven

yuri on ice

parappa the rapper

legend of zelda (ds - just finished botw)

death note (on like. ep 7 but feel free to spoil bc i dont think ill finish it)

mouthwashing

bungo stray dogs (ds - just finished vol 1)

omori (not finished but same for death note i probably wont finish it lmao)

stuff i ship!! i dont push the less popular ones a lot bc im scared ill get like cussed out or something but yea

saioma

komahina

naegami

amaguji

wrightworth

franmaya

asoryuu

klapollo

claypollo (which technically makes me a multishipper! yippee!)

junithena

blackmadhi

viktuuri(? is that how u spell it)

zelink

rockershipping

rap women

lawlight

nagireo

bachisagi

ryusae

soukoku

ranpoe

shin soukoku

considering gregbadd and manosouta

[inevitablestars]

HEY LINDS this is my Official Attempt to sway you towards perciver i hope you like it and that it doesnt turn you off them forever, now first off!

general relationship potential:

percy and oliver are in the same year and as far as we know they are the only boys in gryffindor in their year which makes them not only roommates but also the only boys in their room. for seven years.

percy is incredibly misunderstood by his whole family pretty much always, they all avoid him or are rude to him or just misunderstand him completely. with oliver's proximity its very likely hes the first person ever in percys life to properly observe him and understand him!!!

percy is the most career driven singleminded ambitious motherfucker in gryffindor.... second only to oliver!!! who is the most quidditch obsessed bitch on this planet and arguably has more solid career goals of anyone in that entire series. they are hyperfocused! they are girlbossing! they are not getting a wink of sleep bc they both get so lost in their work they forget what time is!

classic jock/nerd combo except oliver is a jock who is secretly a nerd (think of all the quidditch stats!!) and percy is a nerd who is secretly a jock (percy is a master spellcaster and nobody can convince me otherwise, that man fought multiple death eaters on his own at the battle of hogwarts and you do not get that kind of skill from just sitting behind a desk)

idk theres honestly a lot of directions one could take them but theyve just got so much chemistry and so much in common but also different and theyve got so much potential

(in my head they are the definition of autism/adhd solidarity but i know that not everyone hcs them that way which is cool too)

now for fic recs!!!

Twenty-nine - 85k - Endrina

percy weasley-centric fic that is honestly one of the most creative interpretations of him ive ever read, it goes deep into his past and his canonic decisions and stuff but theres a twist to it that is just gold, also its a whodunit where oliver's been framed for murder and only percy knows hes innocent its very very good and definitely played a huge part in me falling in love w percy's character

A New Life - 89k - AnotherAuthor, myroaringtwenties

percy and oliver meet post-war and help each other get their lives moving forward again, its very well written and very sweet but mind the tags its kinda heavy at points, it doesnt shy away from how hard the war was on everyone but the community that the weasleys and the quiddich players have is very warm and i love it

At least he has great abs - 12k - Irisen

this one is a cute shorter nonmagic soulmate au where oliver is a famous footballer and percy is a politician and they end up being soulmates, its very funny and light and i just enjoy it

(also i am technically writing a perciver fic rn its called Rely On Me and the first two chapters are up on ao3 but its my first fic attempt and i havent updated it all summer bc Life so pls dont feel obligated to read it i just felt like it would be weird if i didnt mention it)

anyway! i hope you enjoyed this if nothing else and if you read these or find other perciver fics or just wanna talk about em lmk bc i am always down to talk perciver i love them with my whole heart and soul <3

josephine hello. is this from literally ten months ago? perhaps it is. but i'm here now.... you mentioned perciver earlier and it reminded me that this has been sitting in my inbox for SO LONG

alright let's get into this

• iconic of them to be alone in a dorm for seven years together that already screams soulmates

• you're so right these two get their minds set on something and they're going to get it they're going to achieve whatever they want (tbh i already think they should put that energy toward like Getting Together but i distress)

• nerd jocks! a slay tbh

• i see the autism adhd thing i get it

• i also think like yeah i agree they have a lot in common when you dig into them but from one glance it's like ? these two? really? but then you see who they are at their core and it's like oh of course how could you think anything else (i have a lot of characters and dynamics that this sorta concept applies to i get it)

also love the inclusion of fic recs which i will check out when i am back to reading <3 consider myself convinced (it did not take much you already convinced me by just sending this ask)

[val-thewitchboy]

yall today some random weird thing happened, and honestly i didnt think much of it until i was listening to a youtube vid that mentioned the mandela effect, and reality shifting and dumb shit like that. im not exactly a believer in that stuff, and i dont think thats what happened cuz that would be stupid as fuck- it just like, made me a little creeped out about it.

so, earlier today i was using a sticker sheet, one of those with like the clear backing that comes in a little plastic pack with a background on a paper behind it, you know? so, liking the way it looks in its package, i went to place it back in the little sleeves they come in. i could tell it was the correct sleeve, there was no sticker sheet in it as it was a one sheet pack, and the only opening available was the little plastic flap on the back that reseals. there are no other tears, breaks, openings, ANYWHERE that the sticker sheet can be removed from the plastic package. for some reason, though, over that plastic flap was a completely untouched, unripped price sticker. I ripped it and put the sheet back, but then i was like -what? If i took the sheet out, I should have already ripped it. its possible i carefully peeled the price tag as well when opening it last, but i dont really know why i would and not just remove the price sticker altogether, and, after examining it, trying to remove the price tag only resulted in it ripping and leaving residue which were there before. but idk. i dont remember opening the pack, as it was a while ago and i didnt think to put the sheet back in it until now out of pure laziness. sorry if this was the worst explanation ever, i just cant get over how, for some reason, the price tag was untouched, and it has just weirded me out, especially after listening to the dumb video i was listening to.

pls lmk the very obvious explanation i must be overlooking about this cuz i might just straight up be forgetting something really simple, but right now my mind is blank

[mybiasisexo]

Entangled - Part 4

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warning: Language

Word Count: 5.5k

Author's Note: There's a lot that happens here lmao. Like I feel this is like 3 chapters jammed into one. I hope we can get a bit of insight on Channies thought process here, and maybe even OCs?? Also I LOVE this friend group and will add so many irrelevant scenes just to see them interact 🥺.

Also.... pls lmk if you would like to be tagged! There are a couple people who I want to but... dont wanna bother anyone haha. So, if you'd like that, just lmk 🙃

Also also.... have y'all listened to beyonces new album?!??!???????!? Was DEF listening to it HEAVY while editing this (Virgos groove was hitting a bit too hard christ she's done it again 😔 we stan forever)

Okay, I'm rambling (shocker) as always, don't be afraid to lmk how you feel about the story so far!!! I appreciate all interaction!!! Have fuuuun~

“Ah.” The calm that overtakes you as you lay back on the blanket separating you from the powdery sand is welcomed after the morning you’ve had. Just as you predicted, the sun is helping your hangover just as much as the food digesting in your belly.

It would’ve tasted a lot better without the bitter knowledge of Chanyeol’s apology, but the heat kissing your skin is enough of a distraction from that fact. “This is the life.”

“If I could, I would live a life strictly on the shore,” Seulgi agrees. She already sounds drowsy as she sprawls out like a starfish beside you.

Yerim is somewhere splashing along in the water, finally enjoying the crisp waves instead of taking pictures for her Instagram. Poor Seulgi spent the first ten minutes out as her photographer and is now finally having time for herself.

You aren’t sure how much time passes when Yerim joins you both. Cold drops of sea water drip onto your stomach alluding to her presence. You wince, eyes springing open to give the young girl a glare.

“Oops.” She shrugs innocently, her smile dazzling. You huff before rolling onto your stomach, evening out your tan. Yerim checks her phone and sucks her teeth, tossing it angrily aside before plopping onto her stomach across from you, so that your heads now huddle together.

“Still no word from Loey?” Seulgi asks. Her eyes are still closed, and she hasn’t moved an inch. Honestly, you thought she had fallen asleep.

You hate how your ears perk at the mention of your ex.

Yerim’s mouth tightens. “Nothing. We were supposed to get breakfast this morning. He had promised me that while kicking me out, to try to make up for what he was doing. But he hasn’t replied to any of my texts or calls!”

Her words trigger something in the back of your mind. Little fragments from the night before come to you in flashes, images of a pissed Yerim in front of your hotel room.

“He kicked you out?” You ask.

The sisters share a look before turning their attention back to you.

“What?” You snap. “I told you I blacked out.”

Yerim sighs dramatically and falls onto her back, blocking the sun with an arm draped over her eyes. “Yes, well, he did. Suddenly sharing a bed made him uncomfortable.”

“You two haven’t… you haven’t had sex yet?” You push out, swallowing the bile the question has rising up your throat.

She pauses and then bursts into laughter, saying your name conspiringly. “I had no idea you would be interested in my sex life.”

Oh, it isn’t hers you’re curious about.

You shrug non-committedly, glancing away.

“No, we haven’t,” she reveals. “This trip was the first time we’ve hung out outside my job, actually. Our first date. It was kind of funny. We both thought of coming here together at the same time. It sounded like the perfect idea then. Now? I’m starting to see how much it wasn’t.” 

Relief floods you, relaxing your tense muscles. You wonder briefly how you would have reacted if they had slept together. Most likely seen red.

You halt those thoughts instantly. This is not your place anymore, not your right. You have zero claim on Chanyeol and whatever you are feeling right now is unwarranted.

Pushing away all that, you focus back on the conversation. “Because he kicked you out?”

She hums as she ponders your question. “That. And he’s in the wedding. He’s a groomsman, and that’s his main focus on the trip, not necessarily me. But also….”

She sighs and shifts around, getting comfortable. “He warned me, but I didn’t think he was being serious. At least, I didn’t think it was actually going to matter.”

“What did he warn you about?” Seulgi asks, voice quiet.

Yerim is silent for a breath before huffing, laughing mirthlessly. “He was engaged once.”

Your heart drops.

“He told me that he was engaged a few years ago, and that he was a bit worried that being in a wedding might… hurt.”

Just like you.

You honestly didn’t know what to think of Chanyeol going through the same thing as you, although this new perspective made your conversation from this morning make a bit more sense, made you understand his actions and words. 

He was putting up a front, just like you. 

“I told him to not worry about it too much,” Yerim continues, unaware of the epiphany you’re having. “Because I am here now. I’ll stay by his side. I’m not going anywhere. He laughed when I said that, and said he thought it was cute. To me, that sounded like that was enough for him. But, something changed after dinner yesterday. He was different, and well, I guess he was right about being worried after all.”

“Engaged, huh?” Is all you can say.

Yerim pouts. “It’s not like he was married and got a divorce. It’s only an engagement. Like…get over it?”

Her words sting. It feels like she’s speaking to you directly.

“Yerim….” Seulgi chastises gently, probably aware of how her statement might affect you. You can’t bring yourself to feel hurt, she’s right afterall. Plus, you can hear the hurt in her voice, the disappointment.

Reaching out, you touch her hand reassuringly. “Would you like me to beat him up for you?”

That brings out a bright laugh and you grin at the sound. “Apparently, you gave him a piece of your mind last night.”

You blink. “I did?”

“You weren’t very happy with him once you found out what he did to me, so you went to his room and confronted him.”

Chanyeol’s words from earlier echo in your brain. ‘We already had this conversation last night’.

“How did that go?” You question, hoping they can’t hear the rising panic in your voice.

‘Because you missed me’.

“Not sure,” she answers.

“We heard you banging on his door for a minute,” Seulgi informs.

You came knocking on my door like the police’.

You gulp.

“It got really quiet afterwards for like ten minutes or so. Then you started banging on our door because, of course, you didn’t have the key. You were pretty incoherent, mumbling something about him being an asshole, I think. Then you stumbled right to bed. Out like a light.”

You take in this newfound information warily. “So, you aren’t sure if I actually talked to him or not?”

“No. It could’ve been Sehun’s door. Hell, it could’ve been a damn wall you were hitting, you were that fucked up,” Seulgi says, chuckling at the memory.

So, there is still a chance Chanyeol was lying. Your certainty crumbles even further when a fresh memory from last night unlocks. It isn’t an image, but a feeling. Hands–fingers–ghosting up your stomach, your cheek.

You blink. Will you remember this? A whisper.

“Either way I appreciate it.” Yerim leans her head back to smile at you upside down, pulling you out of your reverie. “I love you, Sis.”

You smile in return, hoping it reaches your eyes as you pat her round cheek. She giggles, the sound should ease your heart. Instead, it brings another wave of guilt over you, making you shiver despite the heat of the sun overhead.

She readjusts, no longer staring up at you, and starts going on about something else, missing the way Seulgi and you lock eyes, worry and apprehension shared between you both.

Oh, how the knot tangles.

You spend a few more hours at the beach. Play in the water, take a nice afternoon nap, and just lounge around until you get a text from Sehun letting you know that the rehearsal is almost over and that they will all be eating lunch in his suite.

With that, you head back to your own room to get ready.

While in the elevator, Yerim’s phone pings. She checks the text and immediately lights up and starts squealing in excitement.

“What is it?” Seulgi asks, reveling in her sister’s delight.

“Loey just texted me!”

“What did he say?” You ask, playing as nonchalant as possible.

“He said that he’s sorry for not getting back to me this morning and missing breakfast. He said he overslept and woke up right before he had to go to rehearsal. He was wondering if he could make it up to me with lunch!”

“That’s… cute.” Seulgi’s smile becomes forced, and she turns to you with widening eyes that say, ‘what the hell’. You purse your lips as an unwelcoming bout of jealousy makes you consider telling the sisters that Chanyeol was indeed awake early enough to get breakfast this morning.

Not your place.

“I’m going to invite him to Sehun’s…. If that’s okay?” Yerim checks for confirmation. You both agree reluctantly.

She bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly as she types away. The doors open and you leap out, feeling trapped in the confines of the small metal box.

“Aw man. He wants it to be just us two. I hope you don’t mind me skipping out on lunch with everyone.”

“It’s no problem,” you reassure her, meaning it completely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you both have a lot to catch up on,” Seulgi adds.

That is that. You all take turns showering and start getting ready for lunch. You’re rushing a bit, wanting to see your friends and ask about the rehearsal, plus you’re starving. Chanyeol hadn’t given you much in his apology plate.

And, you hate to admit it, but you need a break from Yerim.

When Yerim is in the shower, Seulgi enters your room, sits on the corner of the bed, and watches you put your makeup on.

When your name finally leaves her mouth, you know you’re in trouble. It holds an authority you rarely hear her use. Slowly, you put down your mascara and turn in your chair, giving her your undivided attention.

“I love you,” she starts, voice deceivingly calm. “But Yerim is my sister. I can’t keep protecting you and Chanyeol. It’s not fair to her.”

“I know,” you say.

“We have to tell her,” she proceeds.

“I agree.”

Seulgi inhales deeply. “She’s going to be furious, but she has a right to know about you two. Especially since it seems you’re the reason why he kicked her out of their room.”

Her statement shocks you. “What?”

She throws you an incredulous look. “Are you telling me you didn’t see the way he was watching you throughout dinner? Not to mention how he would, like, study you whenever he touched Yerim? Like he was trying to get a reaction? Trying to make you jealous? I don’t know. Neither one of you have ever really told anyone why you broke up. It’s been a mystery for all of us, you know. We’ve been trying to solve it for years. I was hoping that seeing you both together would solve everything. But, to be honest, it’s only making things more confusing because….”

Her hands rub together, as though she’s putting on lotion. Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes are far away as she thinks about what she has seen. When she refocuses on you, you gulp, hating the distrust in her gaze. “I think Chanyeol is still in love with you.”

“Seulgi.” You don’t–no, can’t hear this right now, not when everything has become so much more complicated.

Her eyes pool with sorrow, for who you weren’t sure. “If Yerim is going to get her heart broken during this trip, I would rather it be from Yeol alone. I don’t want to hurt her, and I know you don’t want to either.”

You didn’t. Yerim is like a little sister to you. Damn Chanyeol for putting you in such a predicament.

“So, when do we tell her?” You ask, filled with a new resolve. You wanted to be done with all this unnecessary drama. “Right now? After lunch? Tomorrow before the wedding? When is the right time?”

“I think now is better than later. I can’t keep lying to her face.”

“I don’t want to lie anymore either. This is Chanyeol’s mess. Let’s tell her, and have him deal with explaining everything while they’re out.”

A couple knocks at your door cuts your conversation short. You both share a glance, not expecting guests.

“Maybe it’s Sehun?” You guess before getting to your feet to answer. “Lord knows he’s always so damn impatient.”

You trudge over and tear the door open.

“Dude, I swear we’re on our way….”

The height is expected. Chanyeol’s face? Not so much.

Speak of the devil….

He is wearing a cocky grin on his face, that swiftly falls the moment you grace his presence. 

“Oh,” slips out of your mouth, expressing all the disappointment you feel at seeing him instead of your best friend. Although your heart begins racing, you find it a bit easier to be confronted with him this time around. Actually, the conversation you just had comes back to you, and you realize that you’re annoyed with him. “What are you doing here?” 

He jerks back from your tone, probably shocked by how bored you sound. “I was just, um, I’m here to, uh, pick up–”

“Yerim,” You finish for him, nodding in confirmation. Right. Of course. His girlfriend.

With her name hovering between you, the atmosphere thickens awkwardly. You’re still mad at him, but it’s overwhelmed by a different disappointment than you felt prior. It takes a second, and then it clicks as to why you feel this. Wow, you really are stupid, huh? A foolish part of you had hoped that he was here to see you. But at the reminder that he has someone else, you are embarrassed to think something so delusional. You don’t know where to look–eyes jumping around randomly, only passing his face every few seconds. Your hands dangle uselessly at your sides, and all you can think is ‘abort, abort, ABORT’. 

“I–right. Let me go get her.” Your voice betrays your disappointment. 

You turn stiffly to do just that, but get pulled to a stop before you can even take a step into the room. Chanyeol’s strong hand curls posessively around the pit of your elbow, thumb resting on the sharp bone. You gasp and hold your breath, still as a statue as you anticipate his next move. Once he senses your attention, he lets his hand slither down the soft skin of your arm to wrap around your wrist. 

“Wait.” Your name leaves his mouth in a gravelly whisper, causing your stomach to roll nauseatingly. Hesitantly, you turn your body back around to face him, and once your eyes lock, they hold on steadfast, as if that is where they are always meant to be. 

“I….” His sentence gets caught in his throat as he continues staring at you. It’s as though your face is distracting him, rendering him the ability to even speak. There’s a question in his glittery orbs, but you can’t decipher what it is he’s asking.

“What is it?” You ask gently.

That seems to draw him out of his trance. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it. 

“Did you get my gift?” The way he asks makes your conversation feel more intimate, a private thing between only you.

You know instantly what he’s referencing: the food from earlier. Confirming your suspicions that it was indeed him, although you never had a doubt. 

“I did,” you admit, albeit reluctantly.

His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Did you eat any of it?”

Even more reluctantly, “I did.”

“Good. That’s good.” And he does appear very relieved, knowing you accepted his ‘gift’. “I was worried.”

“Worried about what?” You push.

His eyes cut to you and you almost recoil from the intensity burning within them. “That you wouldn’t eat it, even though you were starving, because you knew it was from me.”

Ah, he still knows you well.

“I’m not that petty,” you mutter.

“Yes you are.” He grins before a thought occurs to him, causing the smile to fall just as quickly as it formed. “At least, you were.”

That kills the peace you two had created.

“Anyways,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck. “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier. It was wrong for me to say all of that. I just, I don’t know, wanted to try to be normal, for Junmyeon’s sake, but….”

He shrugs helplessly, and you feel that–the helplessness. Despite digging this hole, Chanyeol is just as stuck as you are.

“What about this morning was ‘normal’?” You ask, feeling the anguish from earlier take over your body. “You were trying to upset me. Is that what all of this is? One big ploy to make me feel like shit?”

“That’s not….” He lets out a heavy sigh and runs a hand over his face. “I’m really bad at this. I don’t want to fight, I want us to start over. To be friends.”

You give him an incredulous look that he meets earnestly. Looking at him, at that angelic face that was once your whole world, you realize that what he is asking is impossible. There’s too much history here, too many unresolved issues for you both to move forward on friendly terms.

“I don’t know, Chanyeol,” you say quietly. “I think we’re far from becoming friends, and I don’t really want to be. We only have a few more days here, so let’s just keep pretending we don’t know each other. Hell, we don’t even have to pretend. I don’t know you anymore.” 

“And who’s fault is that?” He asks, voice rising in a sudden anger that makes you flinch. “I wasn’t the one who called off the wedding, remember? That was you. You were the one who decided I wasn’t worth forever anymore, not the other way around!”

“Is that what you think?” You hiss, just as upset. “That’s never what I meant! And why would you even care anymore? You’ve moved on, haven’t you? Do I have to keep reminding you that you have a girlfriend?” Who isn’t me, you want to add.

“Why do you keep calling her that?” He asks, exasperated. You’re sure that if he wasn’t still holding onto your wrist like a leash, he’d be pacing the hall. “She’s just my date! We aren’t serious!”

“Does she know that?” You question. “I have a feeling that if I asked, she’d say differently.”

His eyes bounce back and forth between yours, searching for the right answer. He deflates, knowing what it is. “I already told you, I don’t want to fight. I didn’t come here for that.”

“No, because you came here for her.”

You both hear it, the pain that rips from your chest. It causes you both to pause. You’re mortified, and it skyrockets when he seems to soften. He stares down at you fondly, and his stance straightens. 

“I came here to make things right,” he reveals, voice just as tender as his expression. 

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m going to take her to lunch as promised.”

You slowly nod at that. “As you should. It’s for the best.”

“Is it?” He questions.

Seulgi’s words echo in your head, “I think Chanyeol is still in love with you.”

And with the way he is admiring you, you can see it. Your heart quickens at the idea of him still wanting you. You want to relish in it, in his affection, his touch. Your attraction for him never completely ceased, no matter how many times you have told yourself otherwise. If you are around him for much longer, you are going to give into the temptation that is his mouth, his big hands, his unbreaking steady gaze.

You want to believe what he just insinuated. He came here to make things right, he said. Not just with Yerim, but maybe with you too. You want to believe that the girl getting ready, oblivious to what’s happening only a few feet away, isn’t the only reason why he is standing before you right now, that you still have a claim on him.

“It has to be.” You tell the both of you, drawing the line in the sand for both not to cross.

And yet he still pushes. “And why is that?”

Because I’m terrified of what will happen if we keep meeting like this.

“Because she’s your date.”

He nods in agreement just as you had before. 

“You want to know the real reason why I brought her,” he asks suddenly.

You should say no. You should walk away and forget the man before you. To keep pretending he means nothing to you. But, the most selfish part of you wins. You need to know. So you nod, allowing him to destroy all pretenses between you both.

“As an excuse,” he whispers, gauging your reaction. “To stay away from you.”

You think you should probably feel angry by his confession, but you don’t. Maybe you’re reading a bit more into it, but you find it has you swooning.

He takes a step forward, causing your head to fall back to keep looking at him. His hand finally falls from your wrist, lifting to cup your jaw, making sure you can’t see anything but him. 

Still in a whisper, he continues. “But since last night, the excuse has changed.”

His thumb caresses your cheek. “Now I’m using her as a way to see you. To talk to you. Because that’s the only way you will.”

“That’s not fair.” 

He smiles ruefully. “It really isn’t, is it?”

You can’t help but scoff. “You’re such an–”

“Asshole?” He finishes with a smug grin. “I know.”

A silence falls over you, and you’re observing him so closely, admiring him in a way that feels so familiar it’s nearly effortless, that you catch the shift. His eyes darken with intent as they latch onto your slightly open mouth with laser focus.

You stiffen in his grip, holding your breath as you wait for him to close the distance. So much for that line in the sand.

His head tilts slightly, hair tickles your forehead, nose brushes against yours.

You can’t.

“I’ll tell Yerim you stopped by,” you let out in a shaky breath, lips nearly brushing against his.

His eyes have fallen shut, and he keeps them closed as he briefly rests his forehead against yours, catching his barings. 

“Right.” Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking steps back so that he’s in the middle of the hallway, and you get a bout of deja vu. You were in a similar situation before, were you not? Only now the roles have reversed.

“Tell her to come to my room when she’s ready.” His tone is professional, no ounce of emotion can be heard, as if he weren’t seconds away from kissing you. 

It makes you cold.

With that, he swiftly turns and heads the two doors down to his own suite.

You stand there for a moment, collecting yourself. You can’t seem to shake off the frigidness that chills you with the lack of his warmth. Your hands go to your jaw, fingers touching  the parts Chanyeol had cradled, fighting the overwhelming need to scream.

You need to tell Yerim her date is ready for her. Right. You slip back into your suite to do just that.

Only to be stopped by Seulgi standing a few feet away, expression hard to read.

A staring match commences. It feels like she’s your parent having caught you red handed trying to creep back into the house after sneaking out.

Yerim comes out of their room, ready to go.

“I thought I heard knocking. Was someone here?” She asks, unaware of the silent battle going on in front of her.

“Chanyeol,” you answer, attention never leaving her sister.

“Who?”

You grit your teeth, growing more agitated with her. How can she not know the name of the man she claims to be falling for?

“Loey stopped by,” Seulgi speaks, voice steel, eyes unwavering. “But you were still getting ready. He asked us to tell you to head over to his room when you were finished. Right?”

The question is aimed at you. She lifts her eyebrow, challenging you to correct her.

“...Right.” You lose the staring contest as you agree, guilt casting your eyes down.

“Oh shit! I need to hurry then!” Yerim runs off.

Your wrist and jaw still burn from the ghost of Chanyeol’s touch.

“The food got here before you did,” are Sehun’s first words when you trudge into his room fifteen minutes later. Seulgi hasn’t spoken a word to you since Yerim left your suite, and you can’t blame her. Although, you wish she’d actually communicate her feelings towards you right now.

You can’t stand her being angry with you.

This is not your first disagreement. You’ve argued numerous times. That doesn’t make it any easier though, especially since you can’t really defend yourself.

“Sorry,” you say distractedly as you search the room for someone in particular. There he is! You march right over to Jongin and throw your arms around his slender torso, burying your head into the crook of his neck.

He freezes only for a second, surprised, and then he’s returning the hug, swaying you back and forth comfortingly. 

“God, you give the best hugs,” you mumble against his warm skin.

He chuckles into your hair. “You seem like you really need one.”

“You have no idea.” Satisfied, you pull back, stewing in your bad mood. He clips your chin fondly and then leads you over to the counter that’s pouring over with food.

You all huddle in the living room, sitting in a circle on the floor. All the groom’s men are present except Chanyeol.

“Oh! I have important news!” Jongdae begins excitedly, gaining everyone’s attention. “Eunhee is pregnant.”

“WHAT?!” You all yell. Eunhee is Jongdae’s longtime girlfriend.

He’s glowing from joy. “I know. I should have told you all yesterday, but there was already a lot going on and Junmyeon was the main event. I didn’t want to take away from him. But, yeah, I’m going to be a father!”

“Is that why she’s not here?” Sehun asks.

Jongdae nods. “She’s not that far along, but we didn’t want to take any risks.”

“Oh, gosh,” Seulgi coos. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Jongin cheers.

“You already are an uncle!” Jongdae points out, reminding Jongin of the fact he has sisters with children.

“Okay, but this is different!”

“So, we have one friend getting married, and now another having a kid.” Baekhyun says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Boy, are we getting old.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mutter bitterly. Your comment causes the others to chuckle.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Sehun says, reaching over to pat your back. “But hey, we’re not doing too bad on this life thing. I’m proud of all of us.”

“Do you have any secret lovers or children we should know about?” You ask the proud best man with narrowed eyes.

Sehun rolls his eyes. “As much as I love Busan, I haven’t found anyone that I feel particularly connected to yet. The restaurant keeps me busy. As for children, I have Vivi, and I enjoy spoiling that boy too much. I don’t think I’m ready to have another one.”

“Vivi?” Seulgi asks skeptically. He merely shrugs.

Vivi is his dog.

“I know it’s a rather touchy subject,” Jongdae begins. “But you haven’t been with anyone since Chanyeol, have you?”

Just hearing his name causes your palms to sweat. You have to actively avoid glancing at Seulgi to gauge her reaction.

“I mean,” you start carefully. “I have needs. But, no. I haven’t been with anyone seriously since. To be honest, I think it’s been a year since I last humored anyone.”

“It’s the same for him too, you know?” Baekhyun reveals.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Seulgi abruptly asks Sehun, who shows her. She excuses herself and it’s silent as you all watch her disappear. Once she’s gone, all eyes are on you.

“Chanyeol told me about bringing a date,” Baekhyun admits in a hurry, sensing that you’re on borrowed time. “He told me it was because he couldn’t face you alone. I told him that was the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. But you know Yeol, once he’s made up his mind about something, there’s no talking him out of it.”

“I know,” you answer quietly. He couldn’t face you alone? Well, it does line up to what he revealed earlier, that he brought Yerim as a way to avoid you. God, what an idiot.

“He’s an asshole,” Jongin speaks up. You lift an eyebrow at that, Jongin isn’t one to be so… vulgar. “And just so you know, we’re all on your side.”

“Hell yeah, we are.” Jongdae agrees, holding up a fist. “Fighting.”

“He shouldn’t have pretended to not know us,” Baekhyun frowns. He must still be hurting over his best friend’s rejection.

“It wasn’t smart.” Sehun turns to you. “Did you talk to Yerim?”

“I was going to,” you start and he groans. “Sehun, really! I was! But then Chanyeol showed up and whisked her away. That’s why she’s not here right now.”

“He really has a lot of balls, bringing another girl knowing you were going to be here,” Jongdae seethes. 

“Guys,” you’re quick to defend. “It’s been years. He’s allowed to bring whoever he wants. Allowed to date whoever he wants. We’re no longer together.”

They all scoff.

“I know it’s not my place,” Baekhyun, king instigator, begins. “But you and Yeol were perfect together. You complete each other, and neither one of you have been the same since the breakup. I genuinely hope that the two of you can work it out.”

“As soon as he gets rid of that high schooler,” Jongin adds.

“She’s in college,” you correct weakly.

Conversation finally turns to something else, and it’s perfect timing because Seulgi rejoins right after.

You spend the next hour chatting and goofing off. It feels so good to be back with your closest friends. You can’t help but get nostalgic, comparing the people you all are today to the carefree group of kids you were when you all first got together.

Unfortunately, time flies by while having fun, and the boys have a bachelor’s party to throw.

“I wish I were a boy. That way I could tag along,” you say forlornly.

“Junmyeon wants you both there!” Jongin says, swinging your hands in his. “Just come.”

“We can’t,” Seulgi declines. “It wouldn’t look good. Watch over our boy though. Show him a good time.”

“I told him we should’ve gone to the states,” Baekhyun sighs dramatically. “We could’ve gone to Las Vegas, gone to a strip club!”

At the mention of a strip club, both Baekhyun and Jongin start doing body rolls. Jongdae pretends to make money rain on them.

“Don’t get him fucked up!” You threaten, pointing at the kinky troublemakers. “Tomorrow is going to be the most important day of his life, and he cannot be hungover through it!”

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am,” Jongdae and Baekhyun salute before giggling to each other.

Yeah, that didn’t look good.

“I’m not drinking,” Sehun reassures, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “As best man, I have to make sure everyone makes it back to the hotel in one piece.”

“You sure it’s not because Junmyeon punished you for this morning?” You tease.

He shoves you away. “Just for that, you’re not coming.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I wasn’t going anyway, Nerd.”

You all head out of Sehun’s suite. Seulgi and you wave them farewell as they make their way to the elevators.

Seulgi sighs once it’s just the two of you. “I’m jealous.”

“Same. They’re our friends too.”

You both share a watery pout and then Seulgi is pulling out her key to enter the room.

“Wait.” You rest your hand over hers. She lifts her eyebrows expectantly at you. “I’m sorry.”

She takes a deep breath and rubs her temples. “This is so fucked. I hate lying to Yerim like this.”

“I know,” you say. “You’re now caught in the middle of something that has nothing to do with you. I’m going to fix this. Yerim should be back now. I’ll tell her everything. I promise.”

She gives you a weak smile before pulling you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re my best friend,” you answer simply. “My sister. Both of you are. It’ll be easier on everyone once Yerim knows.”

“I love you too,” she replies. That brings a goofy grin out of you, knowing that you’re forgiven.

Visibly in a better mood, she enters the hotel room in a flourish.

Only for you both to stop dead in your tracks when you see Yerim sobbing in the living room.

“Yerim!” Seulgi rushes over to her sister. You join a bit later, apprehension slowing your limbs as you hover over the bawling girl. “What is it? What happened?”

“Loey!” She wails. You share a nervous look with Seulgi. “Loey broke up with me!”

series m.list | main m.list

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[yanbub]

squishing their cheeks

childe, xiao, zhongli, and scaramouche x gn!reader

hcs, sfw, fluff (?), no cws, 170 words

rb or else pallad will crush on u!!! /srs

note: happy fucking birthday childe. i rushed this and this better show up on tags i dont feel like reposting tonight. if anyone has done this pls lmk so they can get credited!

childe ;

he would squish your cheeks back, making that fish similar face or whatever you call it. he finds it cute but you find his face cuter. and there's something about you holding his face… it makes him soft. very soft.

xiao ;

would be so confused but he'll find it nice! he'd have some sort of warm feeling inside when you squished his cheeks and told him he was cute - he just doesn't know how to phrase it.

zhongli ;

kinda like childe but would hesitantly do it because he doesn't know he's doing it right. look, he's adapting… but it's okay zhongli you're doing it right. but though he'd let out a light chuckle as you squish each other's cheeks.

scaramouche ;

would pull your hands away from his fave or even worse, he would slap it away. he only did it because you initiated it in public - which wasn't to his liking. scaramouche only shows a vulnerable side behind closed doors with you and you only. it stays that way.

[thewritingstar]

Tranquility (TwiYor)

Pairing: TwiYor (Twilight x Thorn Princess, Loid x Yor, which ever you prefer) 

Fandom: Spy x Family 

Note: Im super excited for this one. Ive been in a writing slump for a while and after diving through spy x family, I knew I needed to write something for it. Of course no fandom that im in can escape the angst so that is what this is. 

Big shout out to my lovely friend and amazing beta @smolmexicanita shes the best!!

TW: Character Death, blood, wounds, angst but like this is a love fic so dont be scared please

Since this is a new fandom pls lmk if you would like to be tagged in any upcoming fics. This will also be posted on Ao3 soon. 

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

He always knew deep down that one of these missions would kill him. It was never a surprise or something he could avoid. Especially when you put your life on the line constantly. Death might come naturally to others, but his was always lurking over his shoulder.

Even a mission as simple as delivering a letter could cost him his life. It was important to make it all count and more important to not leave anything behind. You don’t get to have friends and family in this line of work. That way when your blood is splattered on the wall, there are no words left unsaid or any resentment. You can die with the peace of saving the world even if you didn't know anyone in it.

Guns, poison and even bombs were used against him and although he was trained to handle them with grace and swiftness, he never thought that it would come to this.

His back was against the ground, eyes looking up at the night sky in all its glory. He wished that maybe in another life he could have gotten more out of it. To walk outside and see the stars twinkling in the fortress of the sky. To know that the world didn’t rest on his shoulders. If he had a choice, he might have been an astronomer. Hell, he might have been a lot of things.

He had always loved the night sky. Hence, Twilight.

But instead the grass poked his back. His suit was becoming damp from the nightly watered grass and possibly blood. Most definitely blood. Maybe this is what a corpse felt like six feet under. Oddly enough, it felt peaceful.

He should be panicking right now, but laying down like this felt good. A chance to relax. When was the last time he relaxed? Maybe when he gets home he can lay on the couch while Anya tells him about the newest episode of her spy show. That would be relaxing.

What wasn’t relaxing was the state of his suit. He would have to get this suit dry cleaned. Well maybe he would just toss it, there was too much blood.

He coughed and almost choked on the blood coming from his dried lips. Everything around him was spinning. Even if it weren't night time, he would probably still be seeing stars.

The only thing keeping him centered was the weight on his stomach and the fist that clenched his tie.

He never thought his death would drag on like this. He assumed it would be quick and in a sacrificial way that saved thousands. His death would mean something. It would be the end of war and children would never cry from the cruel world. If Twilight's name was erased from the WISE association then it meant he did his job.

Instead he was on the lawn of a garden in some place he couldn’t remember.

He heard a voice mumble something. It was soothing and sweet. Maybe he should close his eyes.

“No, stay awake.” The voice called to him.

By command, he forced his eyes to stay open. He also noticed the slowing of his pulse.

The voice trembled again. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He knew that voice. It was one he had grown accustomed to. Her voice was a haven, one that he vowed to protect. He needed to get up and finish his mission. Why wasn’t he moving?

“Stop trying to move Loid.” She pleaded.

A water droplet fell onto his face. The stars were still glowing without a cloud to cover them. Another drop fell and this time he forced his eyes to the source.

But the clouds were not clouds, but in fact eyes that were red and raw. Eyes of crimson that he had come to know so inexplicably well that his own eyes began to water.

“Y-Yor.” He whispered her name and that was all it took for him to realize what was happening.

She let out a sob as her fist tightened on the fabric. The fabric that she would straighten in the morning when he was “running late”. The fabric that she washed and ignored the blood stains. The fabric that she would pull to make his head turn to her and kiss her softly. The tie that he wore when he asked her to marry him.

And now it would be the tie that would signal his death.

“Loid, please. Please forgive me. I didn’t know it was you.” Yor’s voice grew with worry and now he could see it.

A gold dagger sticking out from his stomach. He had been stabbed in close combat and hadn’t sensed the presence of her. He never had been able to. It was one of the many things that intrigued him. Now he understood why. It was all falling into place.

That black dress and gold details flooded his mind begging for information. So this was the infamous Thorn Princess. The deadly assassin that left no trace and killed with the grace and sophistication of a god.  

He remembered when he joined WISE and they had said if he was ever in the unfortunate situation of meeting her, that he was as good as dead. He was naive to think of that as an empty threat. In the end, they had been right.

Twilight remembered spending months trying to research about her. Her victims vanished from the face of the earth without a trace and no one had ever seen her.

Everything he knew about her was true. But also so wrong at the same time.

“You weren’t supposed to be Twilight.”

The lore of her was how she was heartless and took no prisoners, yet he had watched the same woman warm up to a child who wasn’t even hers and loved her as if she was her very own. He knew that her blades were deadly and her strength was unmatched, but her smile and contagious laugh outshined those truths.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed.

For everything that he had known about the Thorn Princess began to unravel as Yor looked down at him. This was not a deadly assassin, but a woman who was given a bad hand of cards. Just like him.

But the only thing they forgot to mention about her was how kind and caring she was. No amount of blood on her hands could diminish the way his heart fluttered when she walked through a door. It didn’t matter how deep her blade was in his skin.

“Please Loid, it can’t be you.”

He didn’t know it was possible, but he loved her with every fiber of his being.

“It's okay.” He soothed her.

“Loid just hold on, I am going to get you help.” But as Yor began to move off of him, he grabbed her hand.

“Don’t.” He coughed.

Her eyes went wide. “Loid.” More tears surfaced. “If we don’t get you to a hospital-”

“I know.” He spoke calmly. She had a tendency to get lost in her mind and throw around the most obscure scenarios.

He could feel his head growing heavier by the second. The grass was feeling more comfortable and the pain wasn’t as bad as he had thought. He never held resentment for the world he protected. He never felt hatred for the life he never had. But he would be damned if his words would go to his grave.

“Loid.” Yor panicked. “I don’t know what to do.”

His hand reached up and his thumb brushed away the tears falling down her face. He wished he met her sooner. He wished that there was an alternate timeline where they had met.

One as childhood friends. Coworkers. Neighbors. Anything. Hell, even enemies.

He prayed that those universes existed so that he could still be with her, even if he didn’t know it.

In every single one, he wanted to love her.

He wanted her smile that reached her eyes when he came through the door. The way her cheeks would dust with the slightest of pink when their hands would brush and the way her voice would catch in her throat when he pressed his lips to her cheek.

He wanted it all. The smiles, the stares they shared, he even wanted the tears and the arguments. He never wanted to lose the feelings he had for her.

Although he wasn’t sure that those universes existed, he was beyond grateful that in this present one, he got to know her.

“You were always so beautiful.” He said. “From the moment I saw you, I wasn’t able to shake the feeling that we were destined to meet.”

She shook her head. “Please, don’t. Loid…I’m sorry.” She cried.

And instead of trying to push her off or fight back, he just smiled. A genuine smile that he found was just for his family.

“I never thought that my life would be like this.” His voice, soft.

“Being a spy?” She asked.

“No.” He said. “You gave me a life I wasn’t allowed to want and even though it was meant to be a facade, I always forgot that it was. I was meant to get a family. A wife and child. Send that child to a school and have her get me close to my target. World peace was the goal.”

“They told me that this would be the hardest mission of my life.” He grunted. “But they were wrong. It was easy because I was in love with you and after all this time, I had forgotten that it was supposed to be fake. I was selfish to think that it could last.”

Yor cupped his face with her hand. “You gave everything to everyone.”

“And you gave me everything. You are the most selfless person I have ever met Yor. The way that you rearranged your life and fell into a role with so much ease, it's beyond amazing. I hope you know that I am forever in your debt.”  

There was so much blood that her anxiety started to worsen. “Then please, let me be selfish for once. Let me save you.”

A big part of him wanted that. He wanted to wake up the next day perfectly fine with minimum wounds. He wanted to walk out into the kitchen where he would spend a quiet and peaceful hour making breakfast before a mop of pink hair would stumble into her chair and complain about the morning sun being too bright.

He wanted to hear the footsteps of Yor coming out of their room, hers was turned into a study, and she would greet him with a kiss on the cheek and Anya would mutter something about them being in love.

But then there was the realist in him. The part of him that held the truths even if it hurt to bear them. The part of him that was small told him that he only had a few more breaths left before it would become painful to breath. The blood seeping from his wounds and coating her hands would be the last feeling they would share.

Loid wanted nothing more to get up. But his legs wouldn’t move. He heard Yor mutter something into a phone but his mind was betraying him.

“It's going to be okay.” She cried. “I love you too much to let you die like this. You don’t get to save the world and then not be here for it.”

He brought Yor’s hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

“You gave me my own sense of peace a long time ago. Looking into your eyes is pure bliss in itself.” He smiled.

The pink on her cheeks that he adored so much surfaced. “Loid, I love you so much. You are going to be okay. Our family is going to be okay. Just save your energy.”

Yor wasn’t sure who she was trying to reassure. She knew by the state of his body that there wasn’t much time left. The doctor she called said they would be there soon but she wasn’t sure how long this would last. She was so used to taking lives that trying to save them was not really in her wheelhouse.

She looked down at Twilight, not Loid. He will always be Loid. His blonde hair damp against his forehead and his shallow breathing still made him look as gorgeous as ever. She never knew what being in love was like. She had watched movies and read the books but they could never truly encapsulate everything she felt for the man.

Whatever they deemed love to be, that was the perfect label for him. Her love. Her Loid.

She had lifted her body off of him a while ago and was applying pressure to his wound. Everything was happening too fast. How was he the one losing his life and yet she felt like death was creeping on her as well? She once read that a swan could die of heartbreak. She now understood why.

“Yor, please. The silence is too much.” Loid whispers and she could see it now.

She could see the tears in his eyes. The weight of the situation is hitting them both but she has to be strong. She inhales and tries her best to stop the tears and instead smiles down at him. Her fingers brush over his bangs.

“I once read about Twilight. I was told about the best spy in the world. He was quick and a master of disguise. You should see the way people talk about you. You were like a god among men. No one knew you and yet, everywhere you went, you left traces of yourself. I was told that maybe one day I would meet you. They said to be careful and to prepare for the very worst.”

Loid made no sound but he stared at her, waiting for the rest.

“I thought that if someone could be that good at their job then I would need to be the very best. I trained harder than I ever had once I read what little file we had on you. I became better at my job because of you. But you wanna know the funny thing?” She asked.

Loid nodded.

“Twilight did not make me into the woman I am today.” She leaned and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You did.”

She watched as a tear slipped down his cheek and his lips that had been straight for a while, turned up into a small smile.

“Being your wife made me want to be a better person. Kind and caring. Someone who knows what family means entirely. You made me want to be a mother for Anya. To be a good wife for you. But mostly importantly, you taught me how to love. The messy mornings and the days where my job took a toll on me were all washed away and forgotten when you looked at me as if I was the most important thing in the world. How could I ever repay you for making me feel loved but learning to love myself too? That is what made me.” Her own tears surfaced. “Falling love with you was the greatest pleasure of my life. One I never thought I would ever experience. So thank you Loid. For loving me for all that I am.”

This time the pink blooming on the skin came from Loid. Yor let out a small laugh as she rubbed his cheek.

Loid choked out. “What's-so funny?”

“You. You being Twilight makes so much sense but also none at all. Had anyone else been given your assignment, it would have been different.”

“How so?” He said and his eyes winced from the pain.

Yor almost scoffed. “A wife and a child? You could have been cruel and forced us to perform out of fear. You could have treated Anya harshly and given her no option but to be the best. Instead you did what no other spy would have done. You offered compassion and safety. You gave that little girl a home instead of a roof on her head. You gave her toys and did everything in your power to make her smile. I mean who rents out a theme park just to fulfill a little girl's dream? The way that you cherished everything she did and not only acted as her father but became her dad. Sometimes we lose ourselves in our missions but I know now that you would do anything for her, even if it ruined your plans.”

It was true. He had never once faltered with his plans until Anya came into his life. At first it was difficult to balance it all but to know that someone cared enough that he was alive at the end of the mission was something he grew used to. He was determined more than ever to be better. For the sake of the little girl who was giving the world its greatest chance at world peace.

His body was growing tired but all he could think about was Anya. Her graduation from elementary school, middle school and high school. How if she ever found out that he was a spy, she would beg to become one herself. He wanted those moments of her growing up and to be happy when he came home. He wanted his little girl to be his forever. The mission gave him new life.

“You love our daughter Loid, so you can’t die. I won’t allow it.” Yor said firmly. “We need you.”

“I don’t want to die.” He uttered truthfully and the stars above weren’t as bright anymore.

He must have heard a helicopter or something but it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep his eyes open. He heard Yor’s voice calling to someone and he felt cold. His body began to tremble and fear took over.

Just when he thought that he could have it all. He was ready to be done. This was his punishment. He was going to resign from spy work and dedicate his life to something normal, something he wanted.

He could go on vacations and show the world to Yor and Anya. He could give her the childhood she needed and the normalcy that Yor deserved.

He felt her hand in his and she pulled him so that he was now leaning up. If he had thought the sky was spinning then, it was going a million miles an hour now.

Yor leveled herself with him. “Your mission now, Loid, is to return to your family.”

His hand reached out to her cheek and pulled her close to him. “I love you more than you could ever imagine.” Slowly he closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers.

They had kissed many times before, but this was different. He pressed against her as much as he could, taking in her all as if it was his dying wish.

She pulled away all too quickly and her eyes flashed wide. Beautiful crimson. Rubies of her own design. He had a custom ring made for her to match, but that will have to wait for another time.

“Yor, tell Anya. To forgive me. And that-I love her.” He begged.

“Loid just wait-”

“I know I gave the world peace, but you and our daughter gave me mine.” He said as his hand fell from her cheek and he felt himself fall back onto the grass and into a black abyss.

He heard a scream rip through the air but all he could think about was how happy he was.

There was a time when he would close his eyes and his dreams would be plagued with horrors. He could clearly hear the screams of his mother and the pain he felt when he was left all alone in the world. He could remember each bullet he shot in the early stages of his spy work and slowly over time became numb to it all.

But recently when his eyes would flutter close as the tv hummed softly, he would only imagine his family. Rest was just that and he could finally relax even if raising a child was pretty demanding.

The grass was soft against his back and the stars weren’t there but he knew deep down that he did all he could. They were right when they say you don’t get to see the harvest of your planting. Deep down he fell into the darkness, his mind offering him one last image.

Yor holding Anya. The biggest smiles graced their faces and he walked into the door, planting a kiss on his daughter's forehead and then one of his wife's life. Happiness. That is what he was given.

Once upon a time, a spy and an assassin fell in love and raised a child. All for the sake of world peace. What a funny thought.

---

Thank you so much for reading!!! Hope you didn't suffer too much! 

I would love to hear any thoughts you had and if you would like to see more spy x family content, pls lmk! my inbox is always open for anything from requests to asks!!

If you wanna chat or wanna follow me on other platforms, Ao3 and instagram are where to find me, same name. 

Thanks again 

<3 Star 

[tsukkismoonlight]

There's a note on your desk...

Edit: These are now being closed for the time being ! Thank you everyone who has sent something in! I am going to be working on these for the next few days, given i have the time to get them done with work and all (gross, work,,, i am currently,, working)

Hello all!! I have decided to open up some match ups ! I'll be accepting them for a few days, starting right now, and ending on the 29th or so (depending on if anyone sends them in, i may or may not keep them open for a while)

What they'll consist of:

▪︎ a character who I think you'd fit with !

▪︎ either headcanons, or a drabble !

▪︎ if im feeling up to it, some sort of moodboard/lockscreen, or a few songs that also fit !

▪︎ honestly im not too sure but !! Anyways

What I'll need from you:

▪︎ a description of yourself (pictures not necessary! If you happen to send one, and don't want me to post it, please lmk) I wanna know hobbies, personality traits, favorite colors, anything you think would be helpful!

▪︎ you can put your age, or just an age range, gender preference, romantic or platonic ect.

▪︎ which fandom, or fandoms you'd like me to choose from (Out of the ones im going to list that is)

▪︎ depending on the day or time, I'll just need a bit of patience, i work a lot this coming week (dreading it already)

What I will do:

ill do match ups from any of the following fandoms

▪︎ Haikyuu, My Hero Academia, Attack on Titan, Naruto, Tokyo Revengers, Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, Obey Me

▪︎ these will most likely be cute & fluffy, i may throw some au's in there (if you have one in mind, pls lmk!)

▪︎ it is about to be spooky season, so some may even be fall themed!

▪︎ this is a sfw blog so i wont be doing any nsfw or anything that relates to violence or gore and whatnot

▪︎ on the small chance you send me a picture of yourself, and you dont mention anything about your age, i will not be posting them! I will tag you with your username, or if you leave an emoji, i will use that as well!

▪︎ i will be using the tag #/matchups at midnight , so if you'd prefer not to see these, you can block that tag!

If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask !

[amazingorangedangantrash]

Excuse me Orange. I have seen the posts of Makoto interacting with class 77 and as much as I would love to hear about it I'm really curious about how a relationship with class 79 and Makoto would be. More specifically Makoto and Kokichi.

Yes this is because I can't get the fic "Rosemary" out of my head. In summary, Makoto loses his memories and becomes a counsellor at a school in Germany after meeting Rantaro and adopts Kokichi. Besties Rantaro and Makoto with the disaster child that is Kokichi.

Hello anon! Thank you ever so much for being so polite and patient with me :). This post has been a long time coming, and people have requested it ever since I made those class 77 headcanons. I put it off partly because I was worried I wouldn't do the V3 characterisation justice. I based a lot of this off the wiki info, so I highly encourage anyone to add their thoughts or counter if they think of something different!

(Also since pre-game personalities are basically non-existent outside of headcanons, this is based off their killing game personas)

Makoto is excited to greet another school year, and some underclassmen along with it! With all the... interesting characters (turned friends) he's encountered in both his own and the above year, he can only wonder what the new students will be like...

Kaede- out of all the protagonists, I'd say Kaede shares the most similarities with Makoto, moreso than his own sister. These two would definitely get along and make a great tag team- watch out Hope's Peak, because these two will have befriended you before you know it! Makoto definitely admires Kaede's straightforwardness and her optimistic nature. They act as great support for each other if tag teaming another person/persons, as Kaede is bolder then Makoto, whilst Makoto acts well as a medium. They're both extremely loyal, arguably to a fault. Both Kaede and Makoto have lied in a class trial to protective their friend (a detective each time too, lmao). Apparently she also lied for his sake in the demo, which is sweet. I feel like they'd connect well over their mutual optimism and kind hearts. I think Makoto would convince Kaede to step out of her comfort zone- socially, she's very bold, but she strays away from activities that could affect her piano playing (by hurting her fingers) and can waste away a lot of time in the practice room. She misses out on a lot of potentially fun activities that way. On an outing with some others, she accidentally cuts her finger, and whilst Makoto apologises and tells her she was right to be cautious, she waves him aside. Despite being unable to play the piano for a few days, she fills her time with other activities and it actually... doesn't bother her so much. As an 'ordinary person', Makoto helps a lot of talented students by opening their eyes to seeing that their identity doesn't revolve around their talents. In return, Kaede offers to teach Makoto whilst he spends time with her in the practice room. Whilst piano is her favourite, she knows how to play other instruments, and teaches Makoto the violin (maybe you think he'd play a different instrument but violins are my favourite so I'm going with that-). They even practice together, and whilst Kaede still practices nearly every day, she finds that it can actually be even more fun with company.

Shuichi- ah yes, yet another detective. Makoto was initially surprised that they'd accepted another Ultimate Detective, since there's normally only one ultimate at a time in the school (aside from Luck, which is decided each year with a raffle or draw or whatever). It's revealed that Shuichi is actually undergoing part of a new tutoring programme, in order to increase the number of people with talents especially useful to society. He's to be tutored by his upperclassman... *drumroll* Kyoko! Being close with Kyoko and with Kaede, Makoto sees a lot of Shuichi and befriends him too. He helps out with Shuichi's lack of confidence and feelings of inadequacy. Unlike Makoto, Shuichi has an obvious role model that he both aspires to and compares himself against. Unlike Kyoko, Shuichi is much more connected to and feels responsible for the people his detective work condemns. Whereas Kyoko is confident in her goal to obtain the truth, in totally neutrality, Shuichi is hesitant about it, unable to feel unbiased and take a neutral stand. Makoto convinces him this is a good thing, that feeling guilt is normal and is a sign of being a passionate and sympathetic soul. Shuichi doesn't have to be the kind of detective Kyoko is- sometimes that kind of compassionate and caring person is exactly the mindset people want. He also reassures Shuichi that as painful as the truth is, uncovering it means being able to eventually move on, and embrace hope. (He also tells Kyoko to maybe be a bit more... /welcoming/ in their lessons, and eventually Kyoko grows quite fond of her student, discovering a fondess for teaching she didn't know she had).

They're both very humble and polite, and whilst Makoto isn't reserved, he can be very passive. I think the two would appreciate having more of a calm relationship, typical of a 'normal' friendship that is often er- 'lacking' at Hope's Peak. With Kaede's help, Shuichi would open up to Makoto and others over time. I personally headcanon Shuichi to have an anxiety disorder and depressive bouts, so I think someone like Makoto would be a great support friend, for him to go to when he needs company and comfort, someone to listen and to understand, and vice versa to an extent. I like to imagine Makoto, Shuichi and Kaede often spend time together (with Hajime too protag gang ftw). Shuichi likes to study in the music room with them. He's already good at research, but the music actually helps him... enjoy it more. (Maybe he takes up an instrument too, to give him a hobby to focus on, hmm).

Kokichi- Kokichi Ouma. Kokichi Ouma... what do I even say? Trying to wrap my head around his character is like trying to clear the death road of despair in your first try. Still, I'll try my best!

I've seen a headcanon before (i dont remember by who, if you know lmk and I'll credit them) that Makoto via his unpredictable luck would be immune to Kokichi's pranks, and I think that'd set up a pretty good basis for their introduction. I think if Kokichi and Makoto had to describe the other in one word, it would be... "frustrating". At first glance, they're practically opposites- someone like Kokichi, who seems to breathe lies instead of air, and a person like Makoto, who's so honest and open it's almost stupid. Makoto doesn't like how Kokichi lies so much, even if it means people hating him. He almost seems to WANT people to hate him (I think he said once that honest people scare him more than strangers). Makoto has a tendency to break down even the most difficult characters (coughcoguuh class 78 coughcofuh), and that both scares but intrigues Kokichi. Makoto couldn't hate him if he tried (literally the only person he ever even /disliked/ was Junko. Not /hate/, but just /dislike/? Really???), and it frustrates Kokichi that Makoto is so willing to trust him and put faith in him. Makoto isn't blindly optimistic either, he genuinely believes in people, and I think Kokichi would feel envious towards being able to trust so... freely. Part of Kokichi's childish and carefee personality and his perchance for lies is the manifestation of his desire for freedom. If no-one knows what he's thinking, if no one can guess his moves, if no one can use emotions or weaknesses against him, and he can do whatever he wants, isn't that freedom? Except it isn't. By not letting his guard down and being honest with people, in a way, Kokichi's lies have left him trapped, unable to open up out of a fear of vulnerability. Whilst Kokichi would be initially suspicious of Makoto, maybe even distrustful of or uncomfortable around his personality, I think having such a grounded, honest individual whom he can /rely/ on would be... comforting. Kokichi would warm up to him, and see that with Makoto, what you see is what you get. He's above all else, a /genuine/ person, though certainly not an ordinary one, and Kokichi learns to respect and even admire that. Kokichi intentionally pushes people away to avoid expressing vulnerability, by being intentionally unlikeable, but even so I think he's lonely. Pushing away others isn't out of a true desire to be alone (it never is), but a defense mechanism. That tactic wouldn't work on Makoto, and so Makoto could become someone who Kokichi not only considers a friend, but who wholeheartedly returns the sentiment.

Makoto isn't sure what to think of Kokichi at first. He's heard so much about this terrifying new student, an overlord of a secret underground organisation with roots all over the globe... and yet the first time they meet Kokichi is trying to drop a bucket of custard on him. I don't think Makoto would like how Kokichi lies so much- especially about things like killing people or sending them away to never be seen again. It upsets him how Kokichi can joke about it, and how he seems to enjoy toying with people's feelings. When Makoto has a goal, he'll follow it through to the end, so when he's determined to break through Kokichi's walls... well, it's not easy at first. He's also willing to keep Kokichi company and give him attention and hear him out, which Kokichi admittedly likes. Whilst Makoto isn't a pushover, he's also not going to threaten Kokichi or retaliate with mean words, he genuinely listens and entertains Kokichi even though he knows Kokichi is messing with him, which is.. really nice, actually. Even if he tries he can't really shake Makoto that much (pls after all the other -weirdos- people he's met?). Like oh-? They have to duel to the death with yu-gi-oh cards? It's lucky Makoto brought his stack with him! Kokichi orders him to play tea party with him? He loved playing it with Komaru when she was younger and was sad when she stopped! Kokichi tricks him into eating a really gross weird food? How did you know that was a family favourite! Kokichi is fond of Makoto, and is desperate to keep Makoto's attention on him, whilst at the same time not wanting to reveal his true feelings, leading to plenty of complicated situations. Eventually they reach a breaking point (i love drama ok) and whilst Makoto doesn't lash out at him, exactly, he admits that maybe it's best he leaves Kokichi alone, believing that maybe Kokichi truly is content to be the way he is. It's this event that causes Kokichi to realise that Makoto really is someone he'd rather not hurt- that he doesn't just 'like' him but truly cares for him. From then on he tries to dial it down a bit, and Makoto comes to understand how Kokichi's lying and 'cruelty' stems from a place of insecurity and fear of trust. He promises to be a person Kokichi can trust, to show him that vulnerability doesn't have to mean gettint hurt. Whenever the two are around each other all kind of wacky hijinks are bound to ensure, really. Kokichi loves having someone around to not only give him attention, but want to as well, and Makoto enjoys how Kokichi is willing to spend time with and entertain him, pushing him and supporting him in ways that he didn't realise initially. They both find the other extremely interesting, and their encounters usually lead to significant changes in their relationship and mindsets.

I like to imagine they'd spend time playing games and fanboying together- Kokichi adores video games, and it always poses a challenge going against Makoto's luck, which is great for someone competitive as he is. Kokichi also seems a fan of the shounen genre, and 'basic' Makoto is the only other person in the school aside from Hifumi and Tsumugi to even watch anime so you know those two nerds geek out constantly. Kokichi likes to play other kinds of games with Makoto too- and they really like word games- especially two truths one lie. Makoto is... suprisingly good at it. He's pretty poetic, and his genuineness makes it hard to disbelieve him. Which makes it all the more fun when going against Kokichi!

Rantaro- how would these two describe each other in 5 words? "A breath of fresh air". They're both some of the "normal-est" in the school tbh. It's really great for both of them to have someone to do normal teen stuff with. They love going shopping together, hanging out at cafes and arcades. They actually meet when looking for a birthday present for their sister(s). They both reach for the same one before apologising and insisting the other have it. Rantaro insists Makoto take it, since, well, it's not like /his/ sister would get it anytime soon... confused, Makoto asks why and somehow Rantaro ends up confessing the whole thing about his sisters' disappearances, and how he always buys a present for each of their birthdays, waiting for the day when he can give them to them in person. (Pls why does this always end up with makoto counselling the students akdhsjsj-). Makoto could definitely sympathise, having a younger sister of his own. I think they'd bond over that "older brother" role they share, and Makoto would definitely help alleviate some of Rantaro's guilt. I like to imagine that Makoto, whilst being a 'typical teenage boy', also has a lot of feminine interests that he might be a bit insecure about. I love the idea of Rantaro encouraging him to embrace that (guy has like 12 sisters, he gave up feeling shy about makeup, nail polish, jewellery and dressing up in tiaras years ago). Rantaro is the first person to paint Makoto's nails and he loves it so much-!!! They go out for boba together and wear matching green nail polish pls its awesome. Rantaro also tells Makoto stories from when he was travelling and its also amazing- Makoto loves hearing all about it, and Rantaro is actually an incredible storyteller. Though Rantaro initially adventured to find his sister(s), he remembers why he loved travelling in the first place, and he's able to look back fondly on those memories that used to be clouded with the despair of his sisters' disappearance. They even go on vacation together to a tropical island at some point (maybe with friends). I'd like to say Makoto's luck might even lead to them finding one of the sisters, but maybe that's a bit too coincidental ahaha.

Miu- hmm. I think Makoto would be a little put off at first by her vulgarity and very openly sexual and crude behaviour. It's not that he dislikes her, he just isn't really sure... how to react around her? Her and Kaede don't get along, and Makoto often finds himself playing peacemaker when he stumbles upon their arguments. To his surprise, though, she seems to actually... like it when they fight? In fact- she seems to like it when people give her the time of day at all, really. Maybe she's just... lonely? And well, she can be a bit... um- /obnoxious/, but she can't be that bad! Making him go to see her weird (weird) inventions, that must be her way of reaching out and trying to spend time with him, right?

And then she starts calling him "Ma-crap-to", "Naegidiot", "Makusoto", and "Na-unchi"

nevermind she sucks

Makoto, with his saintly patience, would probably end up getting closer to her similar how Shuichi does in his FTEs. (I'll be honest there's not much difference I can think of akdjsjjssksj-)

Kaito- Kaito! Who doesn't love Kaito. It's no secret Kaito thinks himself the centre of the Universe (insert space joke here haha)- he's the protagonist of his own life, and luckily for him, Makoto fits quite nicely into the sidekick role. Both of them are passionate, with big hearts and strong spirits. Kaito is really good at seeing through people too- (idk how accurate this is but apparently in the wiki it says he sees that Nagito isn't interested in his talent or him as a person so much as him as a symbol). Whilst Makoto obviously has a lot of respect and admiration for all the talented students, I feel like it's a lot more... genuine? In a way that he can appreciate the person behind the talent, more than the talent itself. Kaito is someone who likes to inspire people and I think this would resonate with him. I think the two could seriously get along! They're both hopeless (haha) romantics and stupidly optimistic lmao. Kaito can be a little hotheaded at times, so I also like the idea that Makoto could calm him down, or at least reel him in a bit. He's stubborn when it comes to... um.. certain types of people (kokichi) so maybe Makoto could open his mind a bit.

Maki: MAKI ROLLLL. Ok I'm sure she'd probably have to hide her talent until it all came out at some point. I think Makoto is someone who's very against killing (even Junko he believed there was a better way for), so whilst he wouldn't agree with her talent, I think he wouldn't hold it against Maki, especially because he's very good at separating person from talent. Makoto is very understanding, and I think that like with Kaito, he would try to befriend her and open her up. He'd probably feel bad for her, not knowing what a "normal" life was like, so he'd try his best to do that. I think Maki in turn would appreciate that, and slowly get to know him like she did with Kaito and Shuichi. (She also likes complaining to him about Kaito lmao).

(he also takes her out for sushi so she can see for herself what a harumaki is LOL)

I'm sorry anon, this is as far as I could go aksnjjssj. When I feel up to it I'll try and make a part 2 to this, but I hope this is good for now?

(Also that fic sounds awesome and I'll definitely have to read it at some point)

[clamentations]

How I overcame face stuff

Just some things that really helped with my body dysmorphia, take what resonates remember what doesnt bc sometimes advice comes too early but that's ok (also pls let me know if I need to add any specific tags as this may be a trigger to some I'm not sure lmk)

* AFFIRMATIONS were the absolute biggest factor in me getting better. Right now in my head i repeat things like "i am gorgeous with or without makeup" "I look great in photos" "people are attracted to me" "I love myself and so does everyone else" even if in the moment it doesnt feel completely true it's better than thinking the bad stuff. but the point of affirmations is they wire your brain to believe them the more you repeat them, so to get to this point I had to start really small. It depends where you're at with your self love journey but my affirmations started out as "I dont look gross today" "my hair is fine" "my face is just a face like everyone elses" "my reflection and photos are not always an accurate representation of how I look" you just need to experiment with different sentences and find the ones that spark something within you and repeat them whenever you remember, multiple times a day is best but you build up the habit bit by bit. You can also start by writing some down whenever you remember, or having a note in your phone with some you can reread when u think of it. And as you start to believe them you can start changing them eg. Going from "I dont look gross today" to "actually i look ok today" to "my face is acceptable at all times" to "I'm beautiful always" if that makes sense, it takes a lot of trial and error and changing up the sentences you repeat but it works wonders

* meditation really helped me to become more present with my thoughts day to day and realise that I was unintentionally thinking lots of self deprecating thoughts, once I realised this everytime I'd hear a self deprecating thought I trained myself to immediately say a good thought and focus my energy on the good one instead of letting the bad one spiral. It also helps you be present enough to remember to affirm a lot

* looking good in photos is not something that proves how good you look it is a TALENT, you gotta know your specific angles and have the confidence to make it look good. It is a talent that I do not yet have so whenever I see a bad photo of myself instead of rly hittin the heart like it used to I now just think photo taking is a talent I'll get better at it as I gain confidence

* I realised that every time I look in a mirror that my face would tense up and I'd look at a bad angle, maybe because I expect the reflection to be bad so my face changed so it would be bad. I realised that because of this mirrors (and photos) dont give me an accurate representation of my face

* after realizing this I realised how often I would look in reflections everyday (in my room, in bathrooms washing hands, in car and shop window reflections) and realised that I wasnt seeing how I really looked I was studying intensely the weird face I make when I check my reflection. So I took out all instances day to day where I would run into a mirror (covered up ones I cant move and moved to the side the ones I could). Now whenever I get the urge to check my reflection instead I just imagine my ideal face (one from a photo where I look nice) and think yep that's my face no need to check. And so now I only see my reflection when getting ready which is when I feel super cute. And now other than getting ready I only catch my reflection off guard and because I'm not expecting it I dont make the weird face and it's a much nicer reflection

*visualisation also really helped. I started visualizing like how my face looked in a photo of me I really like and deciding that that's what I look like all the time, and like everytime I habitually went to look in a covered mirror I would imagine that face instead and just be like yep that's me (bc it literally is). I also visualized myself looking into the mirror happily and liking my reflection and like visualizing my reflection to look like my face in the picture and after doing this for a while I started to see it in the mirror with or without makeup

Also just wanted to add that all of this progress has been made over years w plenty of relapses n poor decisions made in between but as long as you persist! It will get better

[shrike-baby]

hello 💐☀️

call me rio! 🌼

this is my norny sideblog. my main: @shriekshrike

if u r under 18 or r a man i will block u

if ur blog isnt 18+ i will block u

if ure a terf/homophpbic/piece of shit dick or if i plain dont LIKE u i reserve the right to block 😘

i will block u if i mf'in feel like it 💕

i try n tag specific kinks like CNC or choking - im trying to get better at it so lmk if i missed something

in my 20s. i use they/them & xe/xem pronouns! 

i c myself as a very comforting amount of television static (nonbinary femme lesbian)💞

if u wanna dm me: don’t be creepy, be 18+, do not randomly send me nudes if we have quite literally never spoken bc i will block u so fast, don’t sext me unsolicited, just PLS b kind?????

partnered & rapturously happy about it

genuinely here to have a good time and be horny 🍃🍋☀️

[hprse]

Im so sorry if someones already brought these 2 up bc i dont really browse the among us tag but. Yea pls lmk

Ok so theres 2 people posting memes especially in the among us tag that like just right when clicking on their blog are very clearly shitty people. Here are screenshots of the very first looks at their blogs and examples of some of their posts.

Person on the left may not seem awful at first but given the tags alone as well as their very first post + its tags they seem to be some sort of blog to mock people i guess? Please correct me if im wrong.

Dont reblog their memes, block them, and if you are able to, report them

Edit: it seems that the 2 accounts are actually connected, unsurprisingly. Unsure if they are the same person or are just friends or something though