#rumble fish character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuuberryy · 4 months ago

Text

from foe to forever

pairing: prince!jake x pirate!reader, ft jungwon

synopsis: when prince jake’s wild behaviour leads to his capture by you, a daring pirate, you think it's just another ransom job. but as jake discovers the excitement of life at sea, your initial plans start to unravel. amidst adventure and unexpected feelings, both of you must navigate a complex web of desires and duties, ultimately facing a choice that could transform your lives forever.

genre: enemies to lovers, adventure, humour??

warnings: suggestive content!! kissing, drinking, bratty!jake, reader is mean at first(she's a pirate so duh) but character development trust! , kidnapping, pirate behaviour, constant mentions of being thrown overboard, looting, a bad storm, angst

note: i went overboard with the writing because i just love this plot so much! and my love for strong female leads also fuelled this hehe. enjoyy~

word count: 22.2k(sorry!)

royally yours masterlist | prev:jay | next:sunghoon

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

the scent of saltwater and the faint hum of night creatures drift through the open windows of the castle’s grand hall, mingling with the rich perfume of flowers and candle wax. but despite the setting’s elegance, the tension in the air is palpable.

“you will marry her, jake,” the king says, his voice a low, commanding rumble that reverberates through the vast chamber. “the alliance with her kingdom will secure our borders and ensure peace. this is not up for debate.”

jake’s heart pounds in his chest, anger and frustration boiling over. “it’s always about the kingdom, isn’t it?” he snaps, his voice cracking under the strain of suppressed emotion. “what about what i want? have you ever thought about that?”

the king’s eyes harden, his mouth pressing into a thin line. “what you want is irrelevant. you are a prince. you have duties, responsibilities—”

“duties?” jake interrupts, his voice rising. “you mean being a pawn in your political games? i’m a person, not a piece on a chessboard!”

“enough!” the king’s shout echoes off the stone walls, silencing the room. the courtiers and advisors standing along the edges glance away, uncomfortable witnesses to the familial strife. “you will do as you are told, or you will be stripped of your title. is that what you want?”

jake’s breath hitches, the threat striking deep. but instead of backing down, it fuels his rage. he turns sharply, storming out of the hall without another word, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.

he needs to get out. away from the suffocating expectations, away from the life that feels like a gilded cage closing in around him. without a second thought, he heads for the stables, saddles his horse, and rides hard toward the port.

the port is alive with activity, even at this late hour. lanterns flicker along the docks, casting dancing shadows over crates and barrels stacked haphazardly on the cobblestone streets. the mingling scents of saltwater, fish, and the faint aroma of cooking food fill the air, blending with the murmur of voices and the occasional shout.

jake dismounts, his legs unsteady beneath him, and stumbles toward the nearest tavern. he pushes through the door, the sudden warmth and noise hitting him like a wave. the place is packed with sailors, merchants, and travellers, all jostling for space at the bar or crammed around rough wooden tables.

he makes his way to the counter, slamming a few coins down with a defiant thud. “wine,” he orders, his voice clipped, already half-regretting coming here. but the thought of returning to the castle, to the cold, judgmental eyes of his father, is unbearable.

the bartender, an older man with a weary expression, gives him a sceptical look before pouring a generous glass of deep red wine. jake downs it in one gulp, the liquid burning a path down his throat and settling like a lead weight in his stomach. he signals for another.

it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to take hold, dulling the edges of his anger, turning his thoughts sluggish and blurred. he drinks more, his head buzzing, the world tilting and swaying around him. the tavern becomes a haze of laughter and music, the faces around him blurring into a confusing swirl.

jake stands, the room spinning as he lurches toward the door. he needs air. the port outside is cooler, the breeze off the water sharp against his flushed skin. he staggers down the street, past warehouses and shipyards, the distant calls of sailors and the creak of wooden hulls filling the night.

he’s barely aware of his surroundings, his thoughts a tangled mess. his father’s voice, cold and unyielding, echoes in his mind. you will do as you are told.

his grip tightens around the empty bottle in his hand, a surge of bitterness rising in his chest. what’s the point of being a prince if he has no freedom, no say in his own life?

a sharp laugh escapes him, bitter and hollow, as he sways dangerously close to the edge of the dock, peering down at the dark water below. maybe he should just jump. see what the sea has to offer. it can’t be worse than the life he’s stuck in now.

“prince jake, making a scene again,” someone mutters, and jake spins toward the voice, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“what did you say?” he demands, his voice slurred, wavering between arrogance and vulnerability. but the speaker—a grizzled old sailor—just shakes his head and turns away, clearly not interested in a fight.

jake scoffs, tipping his bottle back for another long gulp. the wine burns down his throat, but it’s a good burn, a grounding one. the kind that keeps him from thinking too much, from feeling too much.

his father’s words echo in his mind, and he takes another drink to drown them out. it’s not fair. none of it is fair. he’s supposed to be a prince, not a puppet. he’s supposed to have choices, damn it.

somewhere in the fog of his thoughts, he hears someone calling his name. a guard, maybe, or a servant sent to drag him back to the palace. jake ignores them, staggering away, further down the docks, away from the prying eyes and the whispered gossip.

he stops near the end of the pier, where the water laps quietly against the posts, dark and deep beneath the pale moonlight. the waves are hypnotic, soothing in their endless rhythm, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over his heated skin.

“i don’t know what i want,” he mutters to the empty night. “i don’t know what i’m supposed to do…”

from the deck of your ship, you had been watching the entire scene unfold with growing amusement.

your ship had been docked for the past few days at the kingdom’s bustling port, quietly resupplying while avoiding any unwanted attention from the royal guards or port authorities. it was a place of wealth and opportunity, perfect for pirates like you to slip through the cracks and gather supplies, crew, and sometimes, new opportunities.

and tonight, an opportunity had wandered right into your line of sight.

“captain,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes also fixed on the drunken prince below. your first mate, always alert, always sharp. he stood beside you at the bow of the ship, arms crossed, the shadow of a smirk on his lips as he glanced at the scene below. “isn’t that the royal brat we’ve heard about?”

you didn’t answer at first, too busy studying the scene unfolding at the dock. prince jake—dishevelled, clearly intoxicated, and seemingly alone—was making a spectacle of himself. despite the late hour, there were still enough people around to whisper and mutter as the prince stumbled about, oblivious to their stares.

“looks like he’s having himself quite the night,” you remarked, a sly grin curling across your lips.

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “seems like he’s also forgotten he’s the heir to the kingdom. i’d bet he’s about to make a fool of himself before sunrise.”

you chuckled softly, your mind already working through the possibilities. “or… we could help him make an even bigger fool of himself.” you glanced at jungwon, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “how much do you think a prince is worth in ransom?”

jungwon’s smirk widened. “more than enough to keep us comfortable for a while.”

your gaze flicked back to jake. the wine had clearly taken hold of him, his steps becoming more erratic, his words slurred and aimless. his father had likely forced him into some political arrangement—probably that marriage you’d heard whispers of. how fitting that the prince, buckling under pressure, would run to the one place where a pirate could take advantage of him.

the idea of holding a prince for ransom made your fingers twitch with greed. the thought of the king, scrambling to rescue his son, made your heart race with anticipation. and besides, the prince was practically serving himself up to you on a silver platter.

“get the crew ready,” you ordered jungwon, stepping back from the railing. “i think it’s time we gave the good prince a proper introduction to life at sea.”

jungwon nodded, already slipping into action. the rest of the crew moved with quiet efficiency as they prepared for the impromptu kidnapping. there was no need for loud orders or clumsy manoeuvres—your crew knew how to handle this. you’d done it before, and you’d do it again. but this time, the stakes were much, much higher.

your boots clicked against the wooden planks as you descended the gangway, your crew flanking you. the night air was cool and sharp, the faint scent of seaweed and brine mixing with the distant aroma of the city behind you. as you approached the drunken prince, you couldn’t help but smile. he was still mumbling to himself, oblivious to the danger that had begun circling him.

“good evening, your highness,” you said, your voice low and dripping with mockery.

jake turned, blinking at you with bleary, confused eyes. he was handsome, you had to admit—handsome in that polished, princely way that marked him as soft, unused to the real world beyond his royal walls. his tousled hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at you, trying to make sense of your presence.

“wha—who are you?” he slurred, swaying slightly. his gaze flicked to the men behind you, then back to your face, the confusion deepening. “what… what do you want?”

you smiled, taking a slow step closer, letting him feel the weight of your presence. “oh, nothing much. just a little ransom. you know how it goes.”

jake frowned, trying to comprehend your words through the haze of alcohol. “ransom…?”

“you, my dear prince, are coming with me,” you said smoothly. “don’t worry, it’s nothing personal. just business. you understand business, right?”

he stumbled backward as your crew moved in, panic flashing across his features. “no, wait—what—what are you doing?” his voice rose, but it was too late. jungwon had already seized him by the arm, the prince’s drunken protests falling on deaf ears as your crew quickly subdued him, binding his wrists.

“you can struggle all you want,” you said, your voice calm, almost amused. “but it won’t do you any good. you’re coming aboard my ship now, your highness. congratulations, you’ve been promoted from prince to captive.”

jake cursed under his breath, his attempts at resistance clumsy and ineffective. the sight of him, so out of his element, so thoroughly unprepared for the world you inhabited, made your grin widen. he had no idea what was in store for him.

jungwon gave you a brief nod as the crew hauled jake toward the ship. “this is going to be interesting.”

“very,” you replied, your eyes still on the prince. the ransom you’d demand would be enough to keep your crew well-fed and supplied for a long time. maybe even enough to retire somewhere warm and far away.

the thought of the king’s panic when he realised his son had been taken made your blood sing with excitement. this was going to be a payday worth remembering.

jake’s head felt like it had been split in two.

groaning, he slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through his skull. everything hurt—his temples throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his stomach churned in protest against the excess of wine from the night before. it took a moment for his vision to clear, the blurred shapes around him slowly coming into focus.

he was lying on a rough, uncomfortable mattress, a thin, scratchy blanket draped over him. the room was dim, lit only by a thin sliver of sunlight seeping through a small, grimy window high up on the wall. wooden beams crisscrossed above him, the ceiling low and oppressive. the walls were bare, made of dark, weathered wood that creaked softly as the entire room seemed to sway and shift.

jake sat up with a start, his head spinning from the sudden movement. he clutched his forehead, trying to piece together the fragments of last night’s memories. the port, the wine, his father’s angry voice ringing in his ears—those memories were clear enough. but everything after that was a blur.

he tried to stand, but his legs felt unsteady, his balance thrown off by the gentle rocking beneath his feet. the floor tilted, and jake stumbled, grabbing at the wall for support.

“where the hell…?” his voice came out hoarse, and he swallowed painfully, his throat raw. the last thing he remembered was being at the docks, stumbling around like an idiot. and then… he closed his eyes, trying to recall. there had been a voice—a mocking, lilting voice. he’d seen a shadowed figure, someone who’d grabbed him…

his eyes flew open as realisation dawned.

“pirates,” he whispered, the word sending a chill down his spine.

he looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings. the room was small, the only furnishings a rickety wooden chair and a small table bolted to the floor. there were no decorations, no signs of luxury or comfort. this wasn’t some noble’s estate or a secluded inn—this was a ship. he was on a ship.

panic flared in his chest. he had to get out, had to—

the door creaked open, interrupting his frantic thoughts. jake whirled around, his heart pounding as a figure stepped into the room.

when jake laid his eyes on you, standing in the dimly lit cabin, he couldn't help but stare. despite the circumstances, there was an undeniable air of confidence and danger that drew him in, like a storm you couldn't look away from. your sharp eyes, steady and calculating, seemed to glimmer with mischief beneath the low light, framed by wild strands of hair that escaped the loose tie holding it back. the leather jacket you wore clung to your form, tough yet graceful, and with each step you took toward him, he felt a mixture of intimidation and awe. you were no princess from some royal court. you were real—strong, commanding, and utterly breathtaking in a way that made his heart race for reasons he couldn't quite name.

you leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smile playing on your lips. “good morning, your highness. sleep well?”

jake stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words. it was you—the pirate from last night. the one who had taken him. the one responsible for this entire nightmare.

“wha—where am i?” he demanded, his voice shaky but edged with anger. “what the hell is going on?”

you raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by his confusion. “you’re on my ship, prince. welcome aboard.”

“your ship?” he took a step back, his eyes darting around as if expecting to find some hidden exit. “you—why did you—”

“kidnap you?” you supplied helpfully, your grin widening. “i thought that much was obvious.”

he glared at you, the fear and anger in his eyes warring for dominance. “you can’t do this. do you have any idea who i am?”

you chuckled softly. “of course i do. you’re prince jake, heir to the throne, soon-to-be husband to some poor girl you’ve never met. or were supposed to be, anyway.”

jake bristled at your words, the reminder of his unwanted engagement fueling his anger. “then you know my father will have your head for this. you’re making a huge mistake.”

you shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “maybe. but it’s a very profitable mistake. you see, your highness, you’re worth quite a lot of money. i’m sure your father will be more than happy to pay a hefty sum to get you back.”

jake’s jaw clenched. he could feel his heart racing, the situation spiralling further out of his control with every word you spoke. “you’re a fool if you think he’ll give in to your demands. he doesn’t negotiate with—”

“pirates?” you interrupted, your voice mocking. “no, i suppose he wouldn’t. but we’re not just any pirates, prince. we’re very persuasive.”

jake’s eyes narrowed. “what do you want?”

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. then you pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a few slow steps toward him. “like i said, a ransom. nothing too extravagant—just enough gold and jewels to make this little detour worth our while.”

he straightened, drawing himself up to his full height, his chin lifting defiantly. “and if i refuse?”

you laughed then, a light, almost playful sound that made his blood boil. “oh, your highness, you really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. we’re going to contact your father, and he’s going to pay us. if he doesn’t…” you shrugged again, the gesture casual, almost careless. “well, let’s just say there are plenty of other kingdoms that might be interested in buying a prince.”

jake’s blood ran cold at the implication. he had no doubt you were serious, the casualness of your threat only making it more chilling. he clenched his fists, feeling a surge of helpless rage. he hated this—hated feeling so powerless, so trapped.

“why me?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “why did you choose to kidnap me?”

you smirked, leaning back against the table, crossing your arms again. “why not? you were practically begging for it last night. drunk and stumbling around the docks, without a guard in sight. you made it too easy.”

jake glared at you, his face flushed with anger and shame. he had been stupid, reckless. he knew that. but to hear you say it, to see the amusement in your eyes—it made his humiliation burn even hotter.

“and besides,” you continued, your tone more thoughtful now. “there’s something… interesting about you, prince. most royal brats would be crying by now, begging for mercy or trying to bribe their way out of this. but you—” you looked him over, your gaze sharp and assessing. “you’ve got a bit of fight in you. i like that.”

he swallowed, his throat dry. “if you think i’m going to just sit here and let you ransom me off, you’re mistaken.”

“oh, i don’t expect you to sit quietly, jake,” you said, his name rolling off your tongue with a teasing lilt. “but you will stay here. and you will do exactly as i say. because if you don’t…” you leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “things could get very unpleasant for you.”

jake’s heart hammered in his chest, the threat hanging heavy in the air between you. but he refused to back down, refused to let you see just how scared he was. “you’re a coward,” he spat, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “hiding behind threats and chains.”

you straightened, your smile fading slightly, replaced by a cool, calculating look. “maybe. but i’m the coward who’s holding you prisoner, and you’re the one locked in this room. so who really has the power here, prince?”

jake didn’t have an answer to that, the reality of his situation crashing down around him. he was trapped, alone, at the mercy of a pirate who seemed to find his struggles more amusing than anything else.

you watched him for a moment longer, then turned, heading for the door. “i’d get comfortable if i were you. we’ll be sending your father a little message soon. until then, try not to get into too much trouble.”

with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. jake was left standing there, his heart racing, his mind whirling with a thousand unanswered questions.

he took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the small, cramped space. there had to be a way out of this. he wasn’t going to let you—let anyone—control his fate. he was a prince, damn it. and he would find a way to take back control, no matter what it took.

jake spent the next few hours pacing the confines of his makeshift cell, frustration bubbling in his chest like a pot set to boil. every creak and sway of the ship was a reminder of where he was—trapped on a pirate vessel, of all places. he had never felt more out of his depth, more powerless, and it infuriated him.

the room was small and sparsely furnished, nothing like the opulence he was used to in the palace. he had grown up surrounded by luxury—plush carpets, gilded furniture, and servants who attended to his every whim. here, there was only the harsh creak of the wooden floorboards and the faint smell of saltwater seeping through the cracks in the planks. it was a stark, unpleasant contrast, and jake’s sense of indignation grew with every second.

he tugged at the bindings around his wrists for what felt like the hundredth time, hissing in irritation as the ropes bit into his skin. “unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with disdain. “kidnapped by a bunch of filthy pirates. my father will have their heads for this.”

his thoughts whirled, oscillating between anger and disbelief. did you really think you could get away with this? he was a prince—he wasn’t supposed to be treated like some common prisoner. yet, here he was, bound and helpless, his only company the relentless thrum of the ship’s hull cutting through the waves.

the door swung open suddenly, and you sauntered in, a smug grin on your face. “good to see you’re making yourself at home, prince.”

jake glared at you, his eyes blazing. “you think this is funny?”

you raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your gaze. “i think it’s hilarious, actually. you should’ve seen yourself last night, stumbling around like a newborn foal. if it weren’t so pathetic, i might’ve felt sorry for you.”

jake bristled at your words. “my father will crush you for this,” he spat, his voice tinged with the haughty arrogance of a nobleman used to getting his way. “do you know what happens to people who cross the crown?”

you chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “i’ve got a pretty good idea, but thanks for the warning.” you glanced at the bindings around his wrists, then back at his face. “now, are you going to behave, or do i need to tie you up even tighter?”

he scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “you really think you can intimidate me with your crude threats? i’ve dealt with far scarier people than you.”

“oh, really?” you said, your voice dripping with mock interest. “and who might that be? your etiquette tutor?”

jake’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger. “this isn’t a joke! i’m not some commoner you can push around. i have rights, and you—”

“—have no leverage here,” you finished, your voice firm and steady. you stepped closer, your gaze locking onto his. “you’re on my ship, prince. your rights are whatever i decide they are. and if you keep up this bratty behaviour, you’ll find out just how limited those rights can be.”

jake stared at you, his pulse pounding in his ears. he was used to people deferring to him, used to his word being law. this was… humiliating. he opened his mouth to retort, but the words stuck in his throat, his outrage tangling with something else—fear, maybe, or the uncomfortable realisation that, for now, you were right.

he turned away, biting down hard on his lower lip. “this is ridiculous,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

you watched him for a moment, your expression softening slightly. “you might as well get used to it, your highness,” you said, your tone less mocking, more pragmatic. “we’re going to be at sea for a while. unless you’d rather spend your days tied up in this cabin, i’d suggest you start cooperating.”

“cooperating?” he whipped around, his eyes flashing. “with you? never.”

you shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his defiance. “suit yourself. but just so you know, it’s not going to be as bad as you think. you might even enjoy it, if you’d pull that stick out of your royal ass.”

he made a noise of disbelief, shaking his head. “enjoy being a prisoner on a pirate ship? are you mad?”

“not mad, just realistic,” you replied, your smile returning. “you could sit here sulking, or you could make the best of it. who knows? maybe you’ll learn something.”

jake let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “learn something? from a bunch of lawless thugs?”

“you’d be surprised,” you said lightly. “you might find there’s more to life than being a spoiled prince.”

the words struck a nerve, and jake bristled, his shoulders tense. “you don’t know anything about me.”

“i know enough,” you said, your tone thoughtful now. “i know you’ve spent your whole life being told what to do, where to go, who to marry. must get tiring after a while, huh?”

jake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. because you were right. the constant expectations, the endless duties—it was exhausting. but he’d never admit that to you.

you watched him, your gaze assessing, then straightened, pushing off the wall. “well, when you’re ready to stop being a brat and start acting like a human being, let me know. maybe we can talk like adults.”

he glared at you, his pride refusing to let him back down. “i don’t need your pity, pirate.”

“it’s not pity,” you said calmly. “it’s a chance. take it or leave it.”

with that, you turned and left the room, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. jake stood there, staring at the closed door, his mind racing.

he hated you. hated the way you talked to him, the way you looked at him, like he was some petulant child who didn’t know any better. but more than that, he hated the way your words made something inside him twist uncomfortably, the way they hit just a little too close to the truth.

because the truth was, he was tired. tired of being the perfect prince, the obedient son, the pawn in his father’s endless political games. and in a strange, twisted way, there was a part of him that almost—almost—wanted to see what you meant. to understand what life was like outside the confines of the palace walls.

but he wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing that.

not yet, anyway.

jake spent the next day doing his best to test your patience. he may have been stuck in this small, grimy room, but he wasn’t about to let you think he was going to cooperate. no, he was a prince, and he would find a way to make you regret kidnapping him.

the first signs of trouble came early. he knocked over the water pitcher, letting the liquid spill across the floor, then stood back, crossing his arms as if daring someone to come clean it up. a little while later, he took the plate of bread and fruit jungwon had brought him and tossed it out the small window, watching as it splashed into the sea below.

when you walked in, you found him lounging on the chair, arms behind his head, a smug smile on his face.

“comfortable, your highness?” you asked, your tone dry.

“quite,” jake replied, his smile widening. “just thought i’d redecorate. this place is rather… drab.”

you glanced at the puddle of water spreading across the floor, the broken plate shards glittering near the window, and shook your head. “right. very tasteful. i see why you were forced into diplomacy and not design.”

jake's expression hardened. “i was trying to make a point.”

“and what point is that?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, amusement dancing in your eyes. “that you have the maturity of a toddler?”

before jake could respond, jungwon entered the room, a look of mild exasperation on his face. he glanced around, taking in the mess, then turned to you.

“captain, you need me to deal with this?” he asked, jerking his thumb toward jake. “or should we just toss him overboard and be done with it?”

jake’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion, but he quickly schooled his expression back into one of defiance. “i’d like to see you try.”

jungwon smirked, folding his arms. “you wouldn’t last a minute, prince. trust me.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “no one’s getting tossed overboard. but it seems our guest needs a lesson in respecting his hosts.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow. “you want me to teach him some manners?”

jake bristled. “i don’t need to be taught anything by you.”

“oh, this is going to be fun,” jungwon said, his grin widening. he stepped closer to jake, who leaned back slightly, clearly trying not to look intimidated.

“what are you going to do?” jake asked, his voice trying to sound brave but betraying a hint of nervousness.

jungwon looked at him thoughtfully. “well, i could make you swab the deck, or clean the bilge. but honestly, you look like you’ve never worked a day in your life. so maybe i’ll just take you to the galley and see if you can peel potatoes without whining.”

jake blinked, caught off guard. “peel potatoes?”

“yep.” jungwon clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. “you’ll be the galley’s new assistant. keeps you busy and out of trouble.”

jake glanced at you, then back at jungwon. “you can’t be serious.”

“oh, i’m very serious,” jungwon said, his smile turning almost wicked. “we’ll see if you can hold a knife without crying about your precious hands getting dirty.”

jake opened his mouth to argue but seemed to think better of it. instead, he turned back to you, his expression defiant but wavering. “you’re really going to make me do this?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you did say you were bored. and i think it’s about time you earned your keep, don’t you?”

before jake could respond, jungwon grabbed his arm and started hauling him out of the cabin. “come on, your highness. let’s see what you’re made of.”

“hey—wait!” jake protested, stumbling slightly as jungwon pulled him along. “i’m not going to—”

“oh, but you are,” jungwon said cheerfully. “and if you’re lucky, i might even let you eat some of what you cook. assuming it’s not completely inedible.”

as the two of them disappeared down the corridor, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. jungwon was good at handling difficult captives, and jake was certainly proving to be a challenge.

the galley was a bustling, cramped space filled with the clatter of pots and the smell of cooking food. jake stood in the middle of it all, looking utterly out of place and thoroughly miserable.

“this is ridiculous,” he muttered as jungwon handed him a bucket of potatoes and a small, worn knife.

“maybe,” jungwon agreed, a teasing smile on his lips, “but it’s also your job now. so get peeling, prince.”

jake scowled, holding the knife awkwardly as he fumbled with the first potato. “i don’t know how to do this.”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “of course you don’t. here, let me show you.” he took the knife and a potato, demonstrating the quick, efficient motion of peeling it. “see? easy.”

jake watched, his pride clearly stinging, but he took the knife back and attempted to mimic jungwon’s actions. he managed to slice off a decent chunk of the potato along with the peel, grimacing as he looked at the uneven result.

jungwon snickered. “not bad for a first try. now you only have, oh, about a hundred more to go.”

jake glared at him. “i don’t see why i should be doing this. i’m not some servant.”

“no, you’re a captive,” jungwon reminded him, his tone light but firm. “and captives who don’t cause trouble get treated well. those who do…” he let the sentence hang, his grin turning sharp.

jake huffed but turned his attention back to the potato, muttering under his breath about the indignity of it all. jungwon watched him struggle for a moment, then, with a sigh, grabbed a knife and started peeling alongside him.

“just try to keep up,” jungwon teased, effortlessly skinning a potato in record time.

jake’s face burned with frustration, but he forced himself to focus, determined not to let the pirate best him. it was a small, ridiculous battle of wills, but for some reason, it mattered.

despite himself, jake found the rhythm of the work strangely calming. it was mindless, but in a way, it gave him something to focus on other than the fact that he was a prisoner on a pirate ship. and, to his annoyance, jungwon’s casual, bantering presence made it a little less unbearable.

by the time they finished, jake’s hands were cramping, and there was a pile of poorly peeled potatoes at his feet. he looked at them with a mix of pride and disgust.

“not bad,” jungwon said, his tone surprisingly genuine. “for a beginner.”

jake looked at him, surprised. “you’re not going to mock me?”

jungwon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’ll save it for when you actually deserve it.”

jake snorted, shaking his head. “i still don’t see why i have to do this.”

“think of it as character building,” jungwon suggested with a grin. “besides, it’s better than sitting in that room, sulking.”

jake glanced at the pile of potatoes, then back at jungwon, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “i suppose there are worse things.”

“there definitely are,” jungwon said with a laugh. “now, let’s get these to the cook before he decides to use us for stew.”

as they headed toward the galley, jake couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with the pirate beside him. it was confusing, unsettling even, but for the first time since he’d been taken, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

and, who knows? he might even learn a thing or two along the way.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the ship, the crew gathered on the main deck for dinner. the air was filled with the scent of grilled fish and freshly baked bread, the sound of laughter and conversation creating a lively atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the tension of earlier in the day.

jake, still somewhat dazed from his unexpected kitchen duties, found himself standing awkwardly on the edge of the group. he glanced around, taking in the relaxed, almost familial vibe of the crew as they ate and joked with each other. it was strange, seeing these hardened pirates—people he’d been raised to think of as ruthless and bloodthirsty—sharing food and stories like any other group of sailors.

he felt completely out of place.

“you gonna stand there all night, or are you actually going to eat something?” jungwon’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. the first mate appeared beside him, holding a plate piled high with food.

jake hesitated, glancing at the plate and then back at jungwon. “is this… for me?”

jungwon rolled his eyes. “no, it’s for the seagulls. yes, it’s for you. now, sit.”

jake took the plate gingerly, his stomach growling in response to the smell. he hadn’t realised how hungry he was until now. he followed jungwon to a spot near the railing, where they both sat down on the wooden deck.

the food was simple but delicious: grilled fish, a slice of bread, and a generous portion of roasted vegetables. jake ate slowly, savouring each bite, his earlier defiance momentarily forgotten in the face of genuine hunger.

“you know, i’m surprised you didn’t just throw this overboard too,” jungwon remarked, his tone teasing but not unkind.

jake shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “i might be a little spoiled, but i’m not stupid. i know when to appreciate a good meal.”

“glad to hear it,” jungwon said with a grin. “our cook might have thrown you overboard if you wasted his food.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “is that a joke?”

“maybe,” jungwon replied, winking. “but you don’t want to test him. trust me.”

despite himself, jake chuckled, shaking his head. “you’re all crazy.”

“welcome aboard, then,” jungwon quipped, earning another small laugh from jake. it was strange, this easy camaraderie they were developing, but in a way, it was a relief. better this than more conflict.

as they ate, the conversation flowed easily between them. jungwon told a few stories about the crew, pointing out various members and sharing their quirks and histories. he spoke of the time he’d joined the crew himself, how he’d been just a reckless kid looking for adventure, not unlike jake in some ways.

“and then there’s the captain,” jungwon said, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “she’s the reason most of us are here. tough as nails, but fair. she sees things in people, you know? things they don’t see in themselves.”

jake glanced over at you, where you were standing near the helm, talking quietly with another crew member. he thought about how you’d handled him earlier, firm but not cruel, refusing to rise to his provocations. there was something about you—something he couldn’t quite figure out, but it intrigued him.

“she certainly has a unique recruitment strategy,” he said dryly, taking another bite of fish.

jungwon snorted. “yeah, kidnapping royalty isn’t exactly standard procedure. but you’re a special case.”

jake frowned. “special how?”

“you really don’t know, do you?” jungwon asked, tilting his head. “i mean, i’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about your own kingdom. the unrest, the protests. people aren’t happy, and your father’s trying to patch things up with that marriage alliance. he’s desperate to secure his rule.”

jake’s expression tightened. he knew all of this, of course. it was why he’d been so frustrated, so angry. he didn’t want to be a pawn in his father’s political games, married off to some princess he didn’t even know just to keep the peace. but hearing it laid out like this, from a pirate of all people, made it feel more real, more urgent.

“and what does that have to do with me?” he asked, his voice tense.

jungwon shrugged. “it means you’re valuable. not just as a prince, but as a symbol. people see you as the future of the kingdom, for better or worse. and if you’re here, with us… well, it changes things.”

jake stared at him, his mind racing. he hadn’t thought about it like that. he’d been so focused on his own feelings, his own desires, that he hadn’t considered how his actions might affect others.

before he could respond, you approached, a wry smile on your lips. “are you boring him with pirate politics, jungwon?”

jungwon grinned up at you. “just making sure he knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

you looked down at jake, your gaze sharp but not unkind. “and do you?”

jake met your eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions—defiance, curiosity, even a hint of respect. “i’m starting to.”

“good,” you said, nodding approvingly. “because you’re not going to get any special treatment here. if you want to survive, you’ll have to work like everyone else.”

jake bristled slightly, but there was no real anger in his voice as he replied, “i’m not afraid of hard work.”

“glad to hear it,” you said, your smile turning almost mischievous. “because tomorrow, you’re on cleaning duty. i expect the deck to be spotless.”

jake groaned, and jungwon burst out laughing. “welcome to pirate life, your highness.”

despite his grumbling, jake found himself smiling, a strange sense of relief washing over him. for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was in control of something, even if it was just his own response to this bizarre situation.

maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to make this work. and if he was going to be stuck here, he might as well make the most of it.

“fine,” he said, lifting his chin slightly. “but don’t think i’m doing it for free.”

you laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “oh? and what do you want in return, prince?”

jake thought for a moment, then smiled. “a chance to prove you wrong.”

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “about what?”

“that i can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “i’m not just some spoiled royal. i can be more than that.”

you considered him for a moment, then nodded, a hint of respect in your gaze. “we’ll see. but i’ll hold you to that.”

as the crew continued to eat and talk around them, jake felt a strange sense of anticipation building inside him. maybe this was his chance to figure out who he really was, beyond the title and the expectations.

the following days saw jake throwing himself into work with a single-minded determination, his initial resistance shifting into a genuine desire to prove himself. the crew, initially sceptical, began to warm up to his efforts. they watched as he took on every menial task without complaint, his posture growing less rigid with each passing day, his movements becoming more confident.

and then there was you—always watching, always testing.

one afternoon, after an exhausting morning of scrubbing the deck and assisting the crew with their duties, jake approached jungwon, who was busy adjusting the sails.

“i want to learn,” jake said, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on his forehead.

jungwon glanced at him, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes. “learn what, your highness?”

“everything,” jake replied, determination evident in his tone. “navigation, sailing, sword fighting—whatever it takes.”

jungwon raised an eyebrow, then nodded slowly. “alright. but don’t expect us to go easy on you. if you want to learn, you’ll have to earn it.”

jake’s gaze shifted to you, where you stood near the helm, a confident presence that seemed to command the very winds. “i’m ready.”

jungwon smirked, but there was a hint of approval in his expression. “we’ll see.”

jake’s training began with the basics: tying knots, handling the rigging, learning the different parts of the ship. he was clumsy at first, his hands unused to the rough work, but he was quick to learn, his determination driving him forward. you watched from a distance, your eyes sharp, taking in every stumble, every success.

as the days passed, jake’s confidence grew. he started to understand the rhythms of the sea, the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the crew worked together like the well-oiled parts of a single, living entity. and he found himself drawn to you, despite his best efforts to keep his distance.

there was something about the way you moved, the way you spoke to the crew with a mix of authority and respect, that both fascinated and frustrated him. you were nothing like the people he’d known at court—no politeness masking cruelty, no false smiles. just raw, unflinching honesty.

one evening, after a long day of work, jake found you alone on the quarterdeck, studying a weathered map spread out on a small table. the sky was awash in shades of pink and gold, the sun sinking slowly into the horizon.

“captain,” he called out, his voice tentative.

you glanced up, your expression unreadable. “yes, prince?”

he hesitated, then gestured to the map. “i was hoping you could teach me navigation. i know the basics, but… i want to know more.”

you studied him for a long moment, your gaze searching his face as if weighing his sincerity. finally, you nodded. “show me what you know.”

he stepped forward, standing close enough to feel the warmth of your body, the subtle scent of salt and sea air that clung to your clothes. you handed him a sextant, and he took it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second—a touch so fleeting it could have been an accident, yet it sent a strange jolt through him.

“use this to measure the angle of the sun,” you instructed, your voice low and calm. “compare that to the time of day, and you can find our latitude.”

he did as you said, holding the instrument up and adjusting it carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him closely, stepping closer to adjust his grip. your fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

“like this,” you murmured, your breath warm against his cheek.

jake swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. he nodded, his voice coming out a little too rough. “got it.”

you stepped back, watching as he took the reading and compared it to the chart. when he got it right, he felt a surge of pride. he glanced at you, half-expecting to see you dismissive or indifferent, but there was a hint of a smile on your lips, a glint of approval in your eyes.

“not bad,” you said, nodding. “keep practising.”

“thanks,” he said, his voice softer now. he hesitated, then added, “i appreciate you giving me a chance.”

you shrugged, turning back to the map. “just don’t make me regret it.”

that night, he lay in his hammock, staring up at the ceiling of the small cabin. he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d looked at him, the way your touch had felt against his skin. it was maddening, this pull he felt toward you, this mix of admiration and frustration, desire and defiance.

the next day, jake’s restlessness found an outlet in a sparring session with the crew. he watched as you and jungwon faced off on the deck, your swords clashing in a blur of silver and steel. the crew gathered around, cheering and laughing, but all jake could focus on was you—the fierce, almost predatory grace of your movements, the way you seemed to anticipate jungwon’s every move.

in the end, you disarmed him easily, your blade pressing lightly against his chest.

“yield?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

jungwon grinned, stepping back with a mock bow. “yield, captain. for now.”

you lowered your sword, turning to jake. “what about you, prince? care to try your luck?”

jake felt his heart skip a beat. he’d been wanting this—craving a chance to prove himself, to push back against the tension simmering between you. he picked up a practice sword, testing its weight.

“i’m ready,” he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

the crew fell silent as you took your positions. you watched him, your expression unreadable, and then you moved. jake barely had time to react, his blade clashing against yours with a jarring force that sent vibrations up his arm.

“too slow,” you said, your voice almost a purr.

he gritted his teeth, pushing back. “i’m just getting started.”

you smiled—a real, genuine smile that was somehow more dangerous than any glare. you stepped back, feinting to the left before striking right. he blocked, his movements instinctive, adrenaline singing in his veins.

“good,” you murmured. “but not good enough.”

you moved like water, slipping past his defences, your blade coming to rest against his throat. he froze, his breath catching. you were so close now, your eyes locked on his, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you.

“yield?” you asked, your voice soft, almost teasing.

jake swallowed, his pulse pounding in his ears. he wanted to say something clever, something to break the tension, but his mouth felt dry. “never.”

you held his gaze for a long, intense moment, then lowered your sword, stepping back. “we’ll see.”

as the crew began to disperse, jake remained where he was, his heart still racing. he watched as you turned away, your expression unreadable, and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

later, as the evening settled in and the crew gathered for dinner, jake found himself once again at the edge of the group. jungwon, catching sight of him, waved him over.

“hey, prince. you did good today,” he said, offering jake a plate of food.

jake took it, still slightly dazed. “thanks. i just—” he glanced over at you, where you were talking quietly with one of the crew. “i can’t figure her out.”

jungwon followed his gaze, then shrugged. “she’s the captain. she’s not supposed to be easy to figure out.”

jake frowned. “but there’s something else, isn’t there? it’s like… she’s testing me. but for what?”

jungwon chuckled. “maybe she’s trying to see if you’re worth all the trouble you’ve caused.”

jake considered that, then shook his head. “no, it’s more than that. i just… i want to prove myself.”

“to her?” jungwon asked, raising an eyebrow.

jake hesitated, then nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i do.”

jungwon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “good luck with that. she’s a tough one to impress.”

jake glanced over at you again, feeling that familiar pull, that mix of challenge and fascination. he didn’t know what he was trying to prove, or even why it mattered so much, but he knew one thing for certain:

he wasn’t going to give up.

the next day, jake found himself at the helm with you again, the map spread out between you. you were showing him how to chart a course, your voice calm and patient as you explained the intricacies of navigation.

he watched you, your profile sharp and focused, the way your fingers traced the lines on the map with practised ease. he wondered what it would be like to know you—not just as the captain, but as the person behind the title.

“do you ever get tired of it?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

you glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “tired of what?”

“this,” he gestured around, at the ship, the sea. “the constant moving, the danger. don’t you ever want something… more stable?”

your eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, he thought he’d overstepped. but then you shrugged, your gaze turning distant.

“stability’s a cage, prince. i’ve been there, and i’m not going back.”

jake felt a pang of something—sympathy, understanding. he nodded slowly. “yeah. i guess i know what you mean.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a heartbeat, he thought he saw something soften in your eyes. but it was gone in an instant, replaced by your usual guardedness.

“focus on the map, prince,” you said, your tone brisk. “you still have a lot to learn.”

jake smiled, despite himself. “yes, captain.”

and as the sun set on another day, he felt that spark of determination flare brighter. he would learn. he would prove himself. not just to you, but to himself.

because, whether he liked it or not, he was starting to realise that out here, on this ship, with you and this crew, he was beginning to feel something he’d never felt before.

he was beginning to feel like he belonged.

the days passed in a blur of new experiences and hard work. jake found himself adapting to life on your ship quicker than he’d expected. there was something strangely liberating about the simplicity of it—no formalities, no expectations to be anything other than himself. but he couldn’t deny that his eyes sought you out constantly, intrigued by the way you commanded respect and moved with an easy confidence that spoke of years at sea.

he’d thrown himself into learning as much as he could, from tying complicated knots to reading the winds and stars. jungwon, patient but merciless in his training, guided him through the intricacies of navigation and combat. the crew had begun to warm to him, and he even caught you watching him with something that looked almost like approval.

one evening, after a long day of training and chores, jake wandered onto the deck, his muscles aching but his mind clear. the sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the sea, and a peaceful silence had settled over the ship. most of the crew were below deck, resting or eating, leaving the upper deck quiet and empty.

he found you at the helm, hands resting lightly on the wheel as you guided the ship through the gentle evening breeze. you glanced over as he approached, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“shouldn’t you be resting, prince? jungwon tells me he’s been working you pretty hard.”

jake shrugged, leaning against the railing beside you. “resting’s for people who know what they’re doing. i still have a lot to learn.”

you raised an eyebrow, your smile widening slightly. “i didn’t think you’d last this long.”

“neither did i,” he admitted, laughing softly. “but i’m starting to get the hang of it. you know, it’s not so different from court politics. a lot of manoeuvring, knowing who to trust and when to watch your back.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “except here, if you mess up, you end up overboard.”

he grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “sounds like dinner at the palace.”

you chuckled, the sound surprising him. it was rare to hear you laugh, and he found he liked it more than he expected. there was a softness to it that contrasted with your usual sharp edges, making him wonder what other sides of you lay hidden beneath your tough exterior.

“maybe you’re not so different from us after all,” you said, your tone thoughtful as you looked out at the horizon. “you’ve held your own better than i expected.”

jake’s smile faded slightly, a serious look crossing his face. “i want to be more than just a prince who got kidnapped. i want to prove that i can do this, that i belong here.”

you turned to look at him, something unreadable in your eyes. “why? you have a whole kingdom waiting for you. what’s the point of trying so hard to fit in here?”

he hesitated, then sighed, his gaze dropping to the deck. “because i don’t know if i belong there anymore. i spent my whole life being told what to do, what to be. i thought i knew what i wanted, but now… now i’m not so sure.”

you were silent for a long moment, watching him carefully. “this isn’t an easy life, jake. it’s not just about adventure and freedom. there’s danger, uncertainty. every day is a fight to survive.”

“i know,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze. “but at least here, i get to decide who i am. even if it’s hard.”

you studied him, your expression softening slightly. “and who do you want to be?”

he swallowed, his heart pounding. “i don’t know yet. but i think i want to find out.”

you nodded slowly, something like understanding flickering in your eyes. “well, as long as you’re on my ship, you’re one of us. and that means you pull your weight, no special treatment.”

he smiled, relief and gratitude flooding him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

the two of you stood there for a while, the silence between you comfortable, almost companionable. the sea stretched out before you, dark and endless, the stars beginning to peek through the twilight sky. for the first time in a long while, jake felt a sense of peace, of purpose. he wasn’t sure where this journey would lead, but for now, he was content to take it one step at a time.

“hey, captain,” he said after a while, his voice soft. “thank you.”

you glanced at him, your expression guarded. “for what?”

“for giving me a chance,” he said simply.

you looked away, your fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. “just don’t make me regret it, prince.”

jake smiled, a small, genuine smile that made something inside you twist uncomfortably. “i’ll do my best.”

and for the first time, you found yourself hoping that he would.

after that conversation, jake threw himself even more fervently into life on the ship. he wasn’t just trying to prove himself to you anymore; he was trying to prove it to himself. he took on every challenge with a stubborn determination, even managing to outlast jungwon in a sword-fighting session one afternoon, much to the crew’s amusement.

the more he learned, the more he began to understand the unspoken bonds between the crew members, the camaraderie and trust that held them together even in the face of danger. he found himself laughing more, his shoulders relaxing, the constant tension that had defined his life at court slowly melting away.

one evening, as the crew gathered around for dinner, he found himself seated between you and jungwon, the three of you sharing a rare moment of peace. the crew’s laughter echoed around the deck as they traded stories and jests, the firelight casting warm, flickering shadows across their faces.

jake glanced at you, noting the way your shoulders had relaxed, your usual sharp gaze softened. he felt a strange, almost uncomfortable warmth in his chest at the sight of you like this, at ease and unguarded, if only for a moment.

“you know,” he said quietly, leaning closer so only you could hear, “i think i’m starting to get the hang of this whole pirate thing.”

you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “don’t get too cocky, prince. you’ve still got a long way to go.”

he laughed softly, the sound genuine. “i guess i just have a good teacher.”

your gaze flicked to his, and for a moment, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding, a connection that neither of you could quite put into words. it was there in the way your eyes held his, in the faint curve of your lips, in the way his heart seemed to skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat.

before he could say anything more, jungwon, who had been listening in with a grin, leaned over, nudging jake with his elbow.

“careful, prince,” he said with a wink. “the captain’s not someone you want to cross.”

jake grinned, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. “oh, i think i’ve learned that lesson already.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat in it, your expression softening as you looked between them. “just don’t expect any special treatment. you’re still part of this crew, and that means pulling your weight.”

jake nodded, his smile fading into something more serious. “i will. i promise.”

and as the night wore on, the three of you talking and laughing beneath the stars, he realised that, for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about what he’d left behind or what waited for him back at the kingdom. for the first time, he was simply here, in this moment, and it was enough.

the night was calm, the ship gently rocking as it sailed through the endless stretch of sea. above, the sky was a canvas of shimmering stars, scattered like diamonds against the black expanse. you leaned against the railing of the ship, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth radiating from the day’s work. the crew had long settled down, their laughter and banter from earlier now replaced by the quiet hum of the ocean. it was peaceful—almost too peaceful for someone like you, used to the chaos and unpredictability of life at sea.

you glanced over your shoulder, seeing jake making his way toward you. he had fit in surprisingly well with the crew, his bratty resistance from the early days replaced by curiosity and, dare you admit it, excitement. his princely demeanour had given way to something more natural, more at ease, as he took to the tasks with a sense of wonder. there was a certain boyish charm in the way he admired everything around him, whether it was the workings of the ship or the loyalty of your crew. and yet, beneath that, something more dangerous was brewing—something between the two of you.

“couldn’t sleep?” you asked as he reached your side.

he shrugged, leaning against the railing next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “not with a view like this,” he said, his voice softer than usual as he gazed up at the stars. “i’ve never seen anything like it. the stars… they feel so close out here.”

you nodded, glancing up as well. “out here, you realise how small you are. it’s humbling.”

jake didn’t respond right away, and the comfortable silence between you stretched. you were both just standing there, side by side, watching the stars and listening to the waves. the night air was cool, and the proximity between you sent a spark through your skin. there had always been something electric about jake—something about the way he looked at you, with that mixture of defiance and admiration, that made you uneasy. and tonight, it felt stronger, like the space between you was filled with unspoken words and a tension you could no longer ignore.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “i don’t get it,” he began. “why… why choose this life? you could be anywhere, doing anything, and yet, you’re out here in the middle of nowhere, living on the edge. why?”

you let out a breath, your hand gripping the railing a little tighter. you’d always avoided these kinds of conversations, especially with people who didn’t understand the choices you’d made. but there was something about the way jake asked—like he wasn’t judging, just genuinely curious.

“i didn’t choose it,” you admitted quietly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “not at first, anyway.”

jake turned to face you, waiting for you to continue.

“i grew up in a port town, one that was constantly ravaged by raids. pirates came, took what they wanted, and left nothing but ruin behind. my parents... they were honest traders, working to build something. but when the raids became too frequent, we lost everything. one day, they came back, and this time, they didn’t leave anyone alive.” you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. “i survived. i hid while my world burned. after that, i realized that the only way to survive was to become stronger. to become one of them.”

jake’s expression softened, but he said nothing, letting you continue.

“i joined a crew, learned the ropes, and eventually made my own way. it wasn’t about money or fame—not at first. it was survival, pure and simple. but after a while, it became about more than that. it was about freedom. about having control over my own life.” you glanced at him, your voice wavering slightly. “out here, no one can tell me who to be. i make the rules.”

the silence that followed felt heavy, but not uncomfortable. jake absorbed your words, his eyes searching your face, as if seeing you in a different light. he opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated, his gaze dropping to the railing. when he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a vulnerability you hadn’t heard from him before.

“i never had that,” he said softly. “control, i mean. every part of my life was mapped out before i even had a chance to think for myself. it’s always been about duty. about what’s best for the kingdom.” he let out a short, humourless laugh. “and here i am, kidnapped by a pirate, and it’s the first time i’ve felt free.”

you turned to him, studying his face as he stared out at the sea. there was something raw in his words, something that resonated with you in a way you hadn’t expected. he wasn’t just the spoiled prince you’d thought he was. there was a depth to him, a quiet yearning that mirrored your own.

for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you building with every passing second. the gentle sway of the ship seemed to bring you closer, and when jake finally turned to look at you, the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt something shift—a magnetic pull drawing you closer, making it hard to breathe.

“y/n,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the proximity of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his gaze flickered to your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped closer, your body betraying the caution that usually ruled you.

he reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it set every nerve in your body alight. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the space between you evaporate.

“jake…” you whispered, unsure of what you were about to say, but it didn’t matter. he was already closing the distance, his lips hovering inches from yours. and then, in one slow, inevitable moment, he kissed you.

it was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters, but then it deepened, the intensity of everything you’d both been holding back pouring into the kiss. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you stared at each other, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you.

“jake… i-”

“shh,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “we don’t have to say anything. not right now.”

for the first time in a long time, you felt exposed—your walls crumbling in front of him. and yet, instead of fear, all you felt was relief. maybe, just maybe, there was room for something more in this chaotic, dangerous life. something real.

as the night stretched on and the stars twinkled above, you knew that whatever happened next, this moment had changed everything.

the days following that night under the stars felt different—charged with an energy neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t just the kiss, though that memory lingered like a spark waiting to ignite at the slightest touch. it was the way jake looked at you now, with a quiet intensity, a hunger in his eyes that made your heart race every time you caught him staring. and it was the way you felt drawn to him, despite the walls you’d built so carefully over the years.

every interaction felt loaded, every conversation laced with a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. yet neither of you spoke about it—not directly. instead, you let your actions speak for you. jake began spending more time by your side, asking questions about the ship, the crew, the sea. his bratty demeanour had all but vanished, replaced by a genuine curiosity, an eagerness to learn.

one afternoon, as you worked side by side on the deck, showing him how to properly tie a sailor’s knot, you felt his eyes on you again. the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow across the ship, but it was the heat of jake’s gaze that made your skin tingle. he was close—closer than he needed to be—his arm brushing yours as he tried to mimic the knot you’d just demonstrated.

“you’re not paying attention,” you teased, a smirk tugging at your lips.

jake blinked, startled, his focus snapping back to the task at hand. “i am! just… distracted.”

“by what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

jake gave you a sidelong glance, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “you.”

the simplicity of his answer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. instead, you dropped your gaze back to the knot in your hands, suddenly aware of how close he was, of the warmth radiating from his body. you could feel your heart beating faster, the tension between you thick enough to cut.

“you’ll never get this right if you don’t focus,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it betrayed you with a slight tremor.

he grinned, leaning in just a little closer. “maybe i like the distraction.”

you shot him a look, a warning in your eyes, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through you at his words. you couldn’t afford to let this get out of hand, not when your life was already so unpredictable, so full of danger. but with every passing day, it was getting harder to resist him.

later that evening, you found yourself on the ship’s bow, staring out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the water, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. it was a rare moment of peace, and you savoured it, breathing in the salty air, your mind wandering back to jake. you couldn’t help but think about how he’d changed, how he’d adapted to life at sea, how he no longer seemed like the pampered prince who’d stumbled onto your ship. he was different now—stronger, more capable. and more dangerous to your heart.

“can i join you?”

his voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced over to see jake standing there, his eyes soft but serious.

you gave a small nod, and he came to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing yours in that familiar way that made your pulse quicken. for a few moments, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you comfortable, yet charged with the unspoken feelings that lingered just beneath the surface.

“i’ve been thinking about what you said,” jake began, his voice low. “about why you chose this life.”

you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“i get it now,” he said, his gaze focused on the horizon. “why you need to be in control. why freedom means so much to you. i never understood it before, but now… after being here, after seeing what it’s like to live by your own rules, i do.”

you felt a flicker of something inside you—pride, maybe. or was it something more?

“i thought i had it all figured out,” he admitted, turning to look at you. “the throne, the kingdom, duty… it all seemed so clear. but being here with you, seeing this world, i don’t know if i can go back to that. not anymore.”

his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you met his gaze, searching his eyes for the truth. there was something raw there, something vulnerable that made your heart ache.

“jake…” you began, unsure of what to say, but he shook his head.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he said softly. “i just… i wanted you to know.”

for a moment, you let the silence wash over you, the sound of the waves filling the space between your words. you’d been so careful with him, so wary of letting your guard down, but every day, jake was breaking through the walls you’d built, piece by piece. and now, standing here with him under the setting sun, you weren’t sure you could hold those walls up any longer.

without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his. it was a small gesture, but it felt monumental, like the beginning of something you couldn’t take back. he turned his hand over, his fingers lacing with yours, and the simple act made your chest tighten.

“i’ve never felt like this before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “not with anyone.”

your heart skipped a beat, and before you could stop yourself, you looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, and for the first time, you let yourself acknowledge what had been growing between you all along.

“i don’t know where this is going,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “but… i don’t want to lose it.”

he smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache. “neither do i.”

the moment stretched between you, fragile but full of promise, and as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, you felt something shift. this wasn’t just an adventure anymore. this was something real, something that neither of you could walk away from easily.

the days that followed were filled with a growing sense of companionship—a rhythm that had started to form between you and jake. he worked alongside you, learning the ways of the ship with more ease than you’d ever expected. he was no longer the prince you’d kidnapped for ransom; he was becoming something more, something you couldn’t quite define.

and in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of you—whether it was a shared glance across the deck, a fleeting touch as you passed each other, or the way he’d sit beside you in the evening to watch the stars—you could feel the bond between you deepening, becoming something you couldn’t deny.

but with that closeness came a growing fear. you knew what you were, what your life entailed. could someone like jake truly leave behind everything he’d ever known? could you let him?

those questions weighed heavy on your mind, but for now, you pushed them aside. because in these moments, with jake by your side, nothing else seemed to matter.

the early morning sun was barely cresting over the horizon when you called the crew to attention. the crisp sea breeze was laced with anticipation, the crew bustling with a mix of eagerness and nerves. you’d spotted a merchant vessel the day before—heavily laden, from the look of it, and poorly defended. an easy mark.

jake stood on the periphery, watching with a furrowed brow as you barked out orders, your voice carrying over the creak of the ship’s rigging.

“jungwon, take the helm. we’ll come up on their starboard side, quick and clean. no unnecessary risks.”

“aye, captain,” jungwon replied, his usual easygoing demeanour sharpened with focus. he threw a quick, reassuring grin at jake as he moved to his post. “don’t worry, pretty boy. we’ll be in and out before you know it.”

jake forced a smile, but his unease was palpable. he hadn’t quite reconciled the thrill of adventure with the reality of what you did to survive. watching you prepare for an attack, your face set in a mask of steely determination, twisted something in his chest.

the attack was swift and efficient. your crew moved like a pack of wolves, swarming the merchant vessel with practised ease. jake watched from the deck, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

you were at the forefront, your sword gleaming as you faced down the terrified sailors. “surrender, and no harm will come to you!” you shouted, your voice carrying over the chaos. the merchant crew hesitated, their eyes darting between you and your men, before they dropped their weapons, their faces pale with fear.

jake’s stomach twisted as he watched the exchange. this wasn’t some grand adventure. this was real, and it was brutal. his hands gripped the railing, his knuckles white. he’d never seen you like this—so fierce, so commanding. and it scared him.

your crew moved quickly, securing the cargo and transferring the goods back to your ship. jake felt sick as he watched, a deep, uncomfortable knot forming in his gut. these weren’t just nameless strangers; they were people whose lives you were upending, and you did it with the kind of ruthless efficiency that made his blood run cold.

when the last crate was loaded, you ordered your crew back to the ship, your eyes scanning the merchant sailors one last time. you caught sight of jake watching you, his face a mask of barely concealed horror. you felt a pang of something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe? but you pushed it aside, reminding yourself that this was the life you’d chosen. the life you’d built.

back on your ship, the crew erupted into cheers as they inventoried the haul. gold, spices, fine fabrics—it was a good day’s work. but jake was silent, standing apart from the celebration, his expression closed off.

you approached him, a hint of unease curling in your stomach. “what’s wrong? i thought you’d be happy. we didn’t even have to draw blood.”

he looked at you, disbelief etched across his features. “happy? you think i’d be happy about this?”

your brows furrowed. “we got what we needed without anyone getting hurt. that’s a win in my book.”

jake let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “a win? you call this a win?” he gestured towards the merchant ship, now a shrinking speck on the horizon. “you just robbed them off everything. and you’re acting like it’s just another day.”

“it is just another day,” you shot back, irritation flaring. “this is what we do. this is how we survive.”

“survive?” his voice rose, drawing the attention of the nearby crew. “you’re a pirate, not some misunderstood hero! you kidnap people, you steal, and you’re telling me this is survival?”

your temper flared at the accusation in his tone. “what did you think this was, jake? a fairytale? you’re the one who got himself into this mess, stumbling around drunk at the port. did you think pirates were just misunderstood adventurers?”

he glared at you, his hands shaking with barely contained anger. “i didn’t have a choice! you kidnapped me, remember? i didn’t ask for any of this.”

you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “you didn’t seem to mind when you were running around the ship, trying to fit in. what, did you think this was some grand adventure for you to play at being someone else? wake up, jake. this is real. this is my life.”

his eyes flashed with something like betrayal. “i thought… i thought you were different. i thought there was more to you than this.”

you felt a sharp pang at his words, but you pushed it down, your expression hardening. “this is all there is. i’m a pirate. this is what i do. what did you expect?”

“i don’t know!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “i just… seeing you like that, taking everything from those people, it’s not what i thought you were.”

you took a step closer, your voice low and tense. “and what did you think i was, jake? some poor soul forced into this life against my will? i chose this. every bit of it. i’m not some damsel in distress waiting to be saved. i’m the captain of this ship, and i do what i have to do to keep us alive.”

he looked at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find something he’d lost. “i don’t know. i just… i thought there was something good here. something more.”

your heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. “maybe there is, but it’s buried under a lot of bad. and if you can’t accept that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

his face went pale, his mouth opening and closing as if he couldn’t find the words. finally, he turned on his heel and walked away, his shoulders stiff with barely suppressed anger.

you watched him go, the ache in your chest growing with every step he took. you’d known this moment would come eventually—that he’d see the darker side of your world and struggle to accept it. but seeing the disappointment in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were a stranger, was more painful than you’d expected.

the days that followed the raid were tense, the air thick with unresolved tension. jake remained distant, his demeanour cold and closed off. he threw himself into the work, no longer seeking out your guidance or approval. it was as if he’d built a wall around himself, one that you weren’t sure how to break down.

you found yourself watching him more often than you cared to admit, hoping that somehow, some way, you could find your way back to each other. your heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid. he was different now—his boyish enthusiasm had been replaced with a grim determination that made your chest tighten. he still did his part, working alongside the crew, but there was no spark in his eyes, no hint of the person who’d once looked at the world with such wonder.

jungwon, ever perceptive, noticed the shift as well. he caught your eye one evening as you stood at the helm, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the deck.

“he’s still not talking to you?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

you shook your head, your gaze fixed on jake’s distant figure. “no. he barely even looks at me.”

jungwon frowned, glancing over at the prince, who was helping tie down some loose ropes with a mechanical precision. “he’s hurt. you can see it in the way he carries himself. he’s not used to this life, and he’s struggling to find his place.”

you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “i know. i just… i don’t know what to say to him. i tried explaining, but it just made things worse.”

jungwon’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice gentle. “he’s not just angry about the raid. he’s angry because he feels like he doesn’t belong. and maybe… maybe he’s starting to realise that this life isn’t what he thought it would be.”

“or maybe he’s starting to realise that he doesn’t want to be here at all,” you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

jungwon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your arm in a gesture of comfort. “give him time. he’ll come around. he cares about you more than you think.”

you managed a small smile, grateful for his support. “thanks, jungwon.”

unbeknownst to you, jake had been watching from the shadows, his jaw clenched as he took in the easy rapport between you and jungwon. he couldn’t hear your words, but he saw the way jungwon’s hand lingered on your arm, the way your expression softened when you spoke to him.

something ugly twisted in jake’s chest, a hot, burning sensation that he couldn’t quite name. it wasn’t just anger or hurt—it was jealousy, raw and unfiltered. he hated the way jungwon looked at you, the way he seemed to understand you in a way that jake couldn’t.

jake tore his gaze away, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of you and jungwon, couldn’t rid himself of the gnawing sense of inadequacy that clawed at his insides.

later that evening, as the crew gathered for dinner on the deck, jake sat apart from the others, his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. you glanced over at him, your heart aching at the sight of his isolation, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

instead, you turned your attention to jungwon, who was recounting a particularly wild story from your early days on the ship. he had the crew laughing, their voices mingling with the sound of the waves, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to forget about the tension that lingered between you and jake.

jake, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at jungwon—it was all too much. he felt like an outsider, like he didn’t belong here, and the realisation hurt more than he’d expected.

he stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the deck. the sudden movement drew everyone’s attention, and the laughter died away as the crew turned to look at him.

“i’m going to get some air,” jake muttered, his voice tight.

he didn’t wait for a response, pushing past the crew and heading towards the bow of the ship. you watched him go, your heart sinking. you wanted to follow, to talk to him, but something held you back.

“go after him,” jungwon said quietly, his eyes understanding.

you hesitated, your gaze flicking between jungwon and jake’s retreating figure. “he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

jungwon shook his head. “he’s hurting, captain. he needs to hear it from you.”

with a deep breath, you nodded, standing up and making your way across the deck. jake was leaning against the railing, his back to you, his shoulders tense.

“jake,” you called softly, your voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

he didn’t turn around. “what do you want?”

you winced at the coldness in his tone, but you pressed on. “i just… i wanted to check on you. you’ve been distant.”

he let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face you. “distant? what did you expect, captain? you kidnap me, drag me onto this ship, and now you’re surprised that i don’t want to be here?”

your heart sank at the pain in his voice. “i know you didn’t ask for this. but i’m trying to—”

“to what?” he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. “to make me feel better about being a prisoner on your ship? to make me forget that you’re a pirate who steals and kills for a living?”

you flinched, the words hitting harder than you’d expected. “i never said i was perfect, jake. i told you from the beginning what this life was.”

“and i was stupid enough to believe that there was something more!” he shouted, his voice raw. “i thought i could be a part of this. i thought maybe, just maybe, i could find a place here. but all i’ve done is fool myself.”

you took a step closer, your voice trembling. “jake, please—”

he held up a hand, cutting you off. “don’t. just… don’t. i can’t keep doing this, pretending that i’m okay with everything. i’m not like you, and i never will be.”

the truth of his words stung, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. when you finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. “i know. and i’m sorry.”

he looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made your chest ache. “why, then? why did you take me?”

you hesitated, the truth hovering on the tip of your tongue. because i needed the ransom. because i thought i could use you.

because i didn’t know i’d fall for you.

but you couldn’t say any of that, not now. not when the wounds were still so fresh.

instead, you looked away, your voice hollow. “i don’t know.”

jake shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “of course you don’t.”

he turned away, leaving you standing alone, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

for the rest of the evening, jake kept his distance, his eyes avoiding yours. and every time he saw you with jungwon, his jealousy flared anew, the bitterness and hurt twisting inside him until he didn’t know how to feel anything else.

he hated that he cared so much, hated that he couldn’t just turn off his feelings and move on. but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting to be the one who made you smile like that.

and that, more than anything, was what hurt the most.

by the time the storm hit, the ship was already teetering on the edge of chaos. the sky had darkened to an unnatural shade of black, casting an eerie glow over the sea. you could feel the tension in the air, thick with the scent of saltwater and the low rumble of thunder in the distance. the crew moved with swift precision, tightening ropes, pulling down sails, and preparing for the onslaught.

“captain!” jungwon shouted from the helm, barely audible over the howling wind. “it’s coming in fast!”

“i see it,” you yelled back, your grip on the wheel tightening. the waves were already towering above the ship, slamming into the hull with relentless fury. the sea had turned into a churning monster, eager to consume you all.

you barked out orders, your voice cutting through the wind. “secure the cargo! bring down the main sail! everyone, brace yourselves!”

the crew scrambled to follow your commands, each member pushing their physical limits to keep the ship afloat. jake, amidst the chaos, worked alongside them, gripping onto ropes and securing what he could, his body soaked from the torrential downpour. every crack of thunder seemed to echo in his head, louder than the storm itself. but it wasn’t the storm he feared most—it was the words he'd spat out at you the day before.

he hadn’t meant to be cruel. but he was frustrated, confused, and angry at the life he’d been dragged into—kidnapped, held for ransom, now caught in a dangerous storm that could end his life. jake’s privilege had always shielded him from real danger, but now it was all crashing down.

and yet, as the storm raged around him, none of that mattered. all he could think about was the last thing he’d said to you. he had lashed out, criticising your life, your choices, the very thing you were good at. he’d pushed you away when all you had done was show him the kind of freedom he’d never known.

lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the deck in a blinding flash, and for a moment, jake lost his grip. he stumbled, caught by jungwon before a wave could sweep him away.

“focus!” jungwon snapped, his voice firm, though concern flickered in his eyes. “we need everyone working together if we’re going to survive this!”

jake nodded, shaking off the dizziness as he grabbed hold of the rigging once more. the storm was relentless, tossing the ship like a toy. but even as he fought through the wind and rain, all he could think about was you—where were you? were you safe? had you forgiven him for what he said?

the minutes dragged into hours, the storm refusing to relent. the crew battled through every wave, every gust of wind, holding the ship together by sheer force of will. you stood at the helm, drenched to the bone but unyielding. you steered the ship with a deft hand, navigating through the chaos like you had done so many times before. but even in the middle of the storm, your thoughts flickered back to jake. his words still lingered, stinging more than you cared to admit. you had grown used to resistance, to judgement, but hearing it from him—it had hit differently.

just as you thought the storm might break you, the winds began to ease. the rain slowed to a steady drizzle, and the waves, while still rough, were no longer threatening to capsize the ship. you gave a sigh of relief, wiping the water from your face, and began issuing new orders to your crew. “jungwon, check the sails. everyone else, assess the damage!”

but jake had only one thing on his mind. as the crew scattered to settle the ship, his eyes darted around the deck, looking for you. his heart pounded in his chest, panic rising when he couldn’t immediately spot you.

“where’s the captain?” he demanded, his voice frantic as he grabbed the nearest crew member by the arm. “where is she?”

“i saw her near the helm last,” the man replied, but that didn’t quell jake’s fear. he pushed past the others, slipping on the slick deck, his stomach churning not from the storm but from the thought of losing you without making things right.

“captain!” he called, voice hoarse. “captain!”

the ship creaked and groaned underfoot as jake searched every corner, every shadowed space, his heart sinking deeper with each second that passed. he cursed himself—why had he let his pride get in the way? he was stupid, reckless, and now he feared he might never get the chance to apologise.

finally, as he rounded the corner near the aft deck, he saw you. you were there with jungwon, overseeing the crew as they worked to fix the sails, your face set with focus, exhaustion evident in the lines around your eyes. relief flooded through him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern as he noticed the strain in your posture.

without thinking, jake rushed toward you. his presence startled you, and you turned quickly, eyes widening at the sight of him approaching you with such urgency.

“jake?” you asked, surprised. “are you alright?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes trailing over your figure as if making sure you were unharmed. then you noticed the gash on his forearm, blood trickling down his skin.

“god, what happened?” you immediately stepped closer, grabbing his arm to examine the wound. “you’re hurt.”

“it’s nothing,” jake muttered, brushing it off. but he couldn’t hide the way his voice cracked, the emotion catching in his throat. “i… i was so scared i’d lost you.”

your hands paused, and you looked up at him, taken aback by the raw vulnerability in his voice. “i’m fine,” you reassured him, though your heart hammered in your chest. “i can take care of myself, jake.”

“i know,” he breathed, his voice thick with regret. “but i’ve been an idiot. i said things i didn’t mean. i didn’t realise how much i need you… until i thought i might never see you again.”

before you could respond, jake stepped closer, his hand slipping behind your neck, pulling you toward him. the tension between you snapped, and without warning, he crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. the world around you seemed to still, the aftermath of the storm disappearing as your body pressed into his. his kiss was filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the regret and longing, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervour.

when he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “for everything.”

you stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure how to respond. but one thing was clear—despite everything, the bond between you was unbreakable.

with the storm finally behind you and the ship no longer being tossed like a toy in the waves, you took a deep breath. jake was still standing beside you, a stubborn presence even as you directed the crew to restore order. his earlier kiss lingered in your mind, a distraction that you couldn’t afford to indulge in just yet.

“jungwon, see to the crew. make sure the rigging is secure and check the hold for any water,” you instructed, your voice carrying across the deck.

jungwon gave you a nod, casting a brief, assessing glance at jake before turning away to rally the crew. you turned back to the prince, his forearm still marked by the cut from earlier, a thin line of blood staining the makeshift bandage.

“you’re hurt,” you stated, gesturing to his arm. he glanced down at it as if only just remembering.

“it’s nothing,” he dismissed, though his voice was softer now, lacking the earlier bravado.

“come on,” you said, leading him below deck. he followed without argument, and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence behind you, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension.

once inside your small cabin, you gestured for him to sit. the room was dimly lit, the single lantern casting long shadows on the wooden walls. you rummaged through a chest, pulling out a clean cloth and a small flask of rum. “this is going to sting a bit,” you warned.

“i’ve had worse,” he muttered, but his eyes never left you as you approached. you wet the cloth and began to clean the wound, your fingers brushing his skin lightly. despite his attempt at indifference, you saw the way his jaw tightened, his breath hitching slightly as you worked.

you tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was impossible to ignore the heat radiating from his body, the way his gaze seemed to burn into you. his closeness was overwhelming, and you found your hands trembling slightly as you wrapped a bandage around his arm.

“there,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you tied off the bandage. you looked up, meaning to step back, but he caught your wrist, his touch gentle but insistent.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low. his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

you nodded, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “it’s just a bandage, jake.”

“it’s more than that,” he insisted, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. “after everything i said… you didn’t have to help me.”

you shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “you’re part of my crew now. it’s my job to keep you safe.”

his lips quirked up in a small, almost sad smile. “am i really just another crew member to you?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. the truth was, you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. he was supposed to be a means to an end—a captive, a ransom. but somewhere along the line, things had shifted, and now you were standing here, your heart hammering in your chest as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“jake…” you started, but his name died on your lips as he pulled you closer. your knees bumped against his, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders instinctively. his grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding up to your waist, pulling you between his legs. you could feel the heat of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

“i’ve been an ass,” he admitted, his voice raw, filled with regret. “i didn’t mean what i said before.”

you swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to his lips, so close, so tempting. “you were right, though. i am a pirate, jake. this is what i do. i don’t… i don’t know how to be anything else.”

he shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re more than that. you’re… incredible.”

your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. you opened your mouth to say something, but then his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips in a feather-light caress.

“i’ve been thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “about this… since the first night.”

you couldn’t find the words to respond, your heart pounding in your ears. the air between you felt electric, every nerve in your body screaming for you to close the distance, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for weeks.

“jake, we shouldn’t—” but your protest was cut off as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss. it was so different from the heat and passion of before, soft and searching, as if he were giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away. you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body aching for more. his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you into his lap, and you went willingly, your legs straddling his as his mouth moved against yours with growing urgency.

the kiss deepened, his tongue teasing against yours as his hands roamed over your back, your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. you gasped into his mouth as he pulled you tighter against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. the cabin seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to the feel of his hands, his mouth, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go.

when you finally broke apart, both of you breathing hard, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face. “tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “tell me i’m not the only one.”

you could barely catch your breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “i… i don’t know what this is, jake. but i want it. i want you.”

his smile was pure relief, his arms wrapping around you as he kissed you again, slower this time, savouring the moment. and as you melted against him, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, his neck, you knew that whatever came next, you were in this together.

the ship rocked gently beneath you, the storm outside a distant memory as you lost yourself in him, in the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands. and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserved this—deserved him.

when you both finally stilled, breathless and spent, the world slowly came back into focus. you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cabin filled with the soft sounds of your breathing. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, the aftermath of what had just happened settling over you like a warm blanket.

jake’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, his forehead resting against yours. “i didn’t plan on this,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.

you laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “neither did i.”

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “but i’m glad it happened.”

your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. you nodded, your hand cupping his cheek. “me too.”

the storm outside had passed, but you knew this was just the beginning of another, one that was brewing between the two of you—a storm you were more than willing to weather.

the first light of dawn filtered through the small cabin window, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred, the warmth beside you a comforting reminder of the night before. slowly, you opened your eyes, turning your head to find jake still asleep beside you.

his hair was tousled, a few strands falling over his closed eyes, and his lips were slightly parted, a peaceful expression softening his features. in the quiet stillness of the morning, he looked almost boyish, a stark contrast to the fierce, determined prince you’d come to know. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something that scared you more than you cared to admit.

you took a moment to drink him in, tracing the lines of his face with your eyes—the strong jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his lashes fanned out against his cheeks. it was a rare thing to see him like this, so unguarded, so vulnerable. he’d given himself to you completely last night, in a way that went beyond just physical closeness. he’d trusted you, opened himself up in a way that left you feeling raw and exposed.

but as you watched him, the warmth in your chest began to cool, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. what were you doing? what had you done?

jake was a prince, destined for a life of duty and luxury, a world so far removed from the rough, uncertain life you led. he had responsibilities, people who depended on him. and you… you were a pirate, an outlaw with blood on your hands and a past you could never escape. what kind of future could you offer him? a life on the run, hiding from the law, facing danger at every turn?

you bit your lip, a knot forming in your stomach. no matter how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to keep him close, you couldn’t ignore the truth. jake deserved better than this. better than you. he deserved a life where he didn’t have to look over his shoulder, where he could live freely, surrounded by those who loved and respected him.

a pang of guilt shot through you as you remembered the way he’d looked at you last night, his eyes filled with something you were afraid to name. you’d seen that look before, on the faces of those who’d dared to care for you, to get too close. and every time, without fail, you’d ended up hurting them, pushing them away for their own good.

you couldn’t do that to jake. he’d already given up so much, already risked so much. he needed to go back, to the castle, to his people. even if he didn’t want to, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process, you had to let him go.

a soft sigh drew your attention back to him as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, his gaze unfocused as he took in his surroundings. then his eyes found yours, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. he reached out, his fingers brushing over your cheek, and you felt your resolve waver. “didn’t think i’d ever wake up to see you looking at me like this.”

you forced a smile, your heart aching as you leaned into his touch. “you make it sound like i’m some heartless pirate.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “well, you do have a reputation to uphold.”

“don’t remind me,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light even as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart. if he knew, he’d never leave, never let you push him away. and that would be the worst thing you could do—to both of you.

he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze never leaving your face. “you’re quiet this morning. something on your mind?”

you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “just… thinking about everything that’s happened. the storm, the crew… us.”

a flicker of concern crossed his face, but he quickly masked it, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “are you having second thoughts?”

“no, i—” you broke off, struggling to find the right words. how could you explain what you were feeling without giving too much away? “i just… i don’t want you to regret this. any of this.”

he frowned, his brow furrowing as he studied you. “why would i regret it?”

“because you’re not supposed to be here, jake,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “you’re a prince. you have a duty, a life back at the castle. this—us—it’s not… it’s not real.”

his grip on you tightened, his eyes darkening. “not real? after everything we’ve been through, everything i’ve felt—” he shook his head, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you say that?”

“because it’s the truth,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “you’re only here because i took you. you’re supposed to be at the castle, marrying some princess, doing what’s best for your kingdom.”

“is that what you think?” his voice was low, dangerous, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to bear. “that i’d rather be locked away in some castle, living a life that’s been decided for me?”

“it’s where you belong,” you insisted, hating the way your voice wavered, betraying the turmoil inside you. “you deserve a life of dignity, of safety. not this—”

“i don’t care about that!” he burst out, his frustration giving way to desperation. “don’t you get it? i don’t want that life. i want to be here, with you. i don’t care about the kingdom, or the title, or any of it if it means losing you.”

you closed your eyes, his words cutting through you like a knife. this was exactly what you’d been afraid of. he was willing to throw everything away for you, and you couldn’t let him do that. you had to be the strong one, had to protect him—even if it meant breaking his heart.

“jake…” you began, your voice trembling. “i don’t want you here. you’re just… a reminder of what i can never have, of the life i can never give you.”

his eyes widened, shock and hurt flashing across his face. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying you need to leave,” you forced out, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. “you need to go back to your world and forget about me.”

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he processed your words. “no. i won’t do it. i won’t leave you.”

“you have to,” you insisted, your heart breaking with every word. “please, jake. it’s better this way.”

“better for who?” he demanded, his voice shaking. “for you? because it sure as hell isn’t better for me.”

tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your vision blurring. “you’ll understand one day. you’ll see that i’m right.”

“no,” he said again, his voice firm. “you’re wrong. you’re wrong about everything. and i’m going to prove it to you.”

before you could respond, he stood up, turning his back on you. the door to your cabin slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silence that followed, leaving you alone with your shattered resolve and the aching emptiness where he’d been.

the days passed in a blur, each one bringing you closer to the inevitable. jake, true to his word, threw himself into life on the ship, trying to prove his worth. he took on every task with determination, learning the ropes, quite literally, and working harder than you’d ever seen him work. he pushed himself, and when the crew tried to tell him he didn’t need to, he pushed harder.

you watched him, your heart breaking a little more each day. he was trying so hard, trying to show you that he belonged here, that he could be part of your world. and every time he looked at you, with that stubborn, desperate hope in his eyes, it took everything in you not to break down, not to tell him the truth.

he didn’t know, couldn’t know, that it was too late. your course was already set, the ship heading back to his kingdom. you’d made your decision, and nothing he did would change it. you’d see him safely home, even if it meant tearing your own heart out in the process.

each night, when the crew had gone to sleep and the ship sailed through the quiet, dark sea, you stood at the helm, gripping the wheel tightly, your knuckles white with the force of it. jungwon had tried to talk to you, his eyes full of worry, but you’d brushed him off. there was nothing he could say that would make this any easier.

you were doing the right thing. you had to keep telling yourself that.

the day you saw the outline of the kingdom on the horizon, your heart clenched painfully in your chest. the castle loomed in the distance, its towers stark against the morning sky. you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come.

jake was below deck, sleeping in your cabin. he’d pushed himself to exhaustion the night before, working late into the night, and you knew he wouldn’t wake for hours. it was better this way. he wouldn’t fight you, wouldn’t try to stop you.

you steered the ship into the harbour, the crew working quietly, their usual banter subdued. they knew what this meant, what it would cost you, and they respected your decision, even if they didn’t fully understand it.

“captain,” jungwon said softly, coming to stand beside you. his eyes were full of unspoken questions, his expression a mixture of sadness and concern.

you nodded, your throat tight. “get him ready to disembark.”

jungwon hesitated, then sighed, turning away to do as you’d asked. you watched him go, your heart aching. this was it. there was no turning back now.

when you went down to the cabin, jake was still asleep, his face peaceful, a small frown creasing his brow. you stood in the doorway, your chest constricting painfully as you watched him. you wanted to remember him like this, wanted to etch this moment into your memory, because you knew it was the last you’d have.

carefully, you knelt beside the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. he stirred, murmuring something in his sleep, and your heart twisted. you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering for just a moment.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry, jake.”

then you stood, turning away before the tears could fall. you couldn’t let him see you like this. you couldn’t let him see how much this was tearing you apart.

by the time jake woke, the ship was docked at the harbour, the kingdom spread out before him. he sat up, confusion crossing his face as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements sluggish, still groggy from sleep.

“where…?” he trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised where he was. “no, no, no…”

panic seized him as he stumbled to his feet, rushing to the door. he burst out onto the deck, his eyes wild as he looked around, searching for you.

you were standing near the gangplank, your back to him. jungwon was beside you, his expression tense as he spoke in low tones. jake’s heart pounded in his chest as he took in the scene, dread pooling in his stomach.

“what is this?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “what’s going on?”

you turned at the sound of his voice, your face carefully blank. his heart clenched at the sight of you, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. “we’re at your kingdom,” you said, your tone calm, too calm. “you’re going home.”

“home?” he stared at you, disbelief and betrayal warring in his eyes. “i don’t—this isn’t my home!”

“it’s where you belong,” you said quietly, your gaze unwavering. “it’s where you need to be.”

“no,” he said fiercely, taking a step towards you. “no, you don’t get to decide that. you don’t get to just—just drop me off like some—”

“jake,” you interrupted, your voice soft, almost gentle. “i’m doing this for you.”

he froze, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back the anger, the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm him. “for me? you think i want this? you think i want to go back to being a prisoner in my own life?”

“you have responsibilities,” you said, your voice firm, but he could see the cracks in your composure, the way your hands trembled at your sides. “people who depend on you. a kingdom that needs you.”

“what about what i need?” he shouted, his voice breaking. “what about what i want? doesn’t that matter to you?”

you flinched, the words hitting you like a physical blow. “it does,” you whispered. “it matters more than you know.”

“then why?” he demanded, his voice desperate. “why are you doing this?”

“because i love you,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “and that’s why i have to let you go.”

jake stared at you, shock and pain etched on his face. for a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading away. then, slowly, the realisation dawned in his eyes, his expression hardening.

“no,” he said, his voice cold, distant. “no, you don’t love me. you’re just like everyone else. you’re just getting rid of me because i’m not worth the trouble.”

“jake—” you began, but he shook his head, his eyes blazing with anger.

“save it,” he snapped, turning away. “i don’t need your pity.”

you watched, helpless, as he strode down the gangplank, his back rigid, every line of his body radiating hurt and betrayal. he didn’t look back, didn’t give you a second glance as he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, alone, the pain of his words cutting deeper than any blade.

you’d done what you had to, what you knew was right. but as you watched him go, your heart breaking with every step he took, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made the biggest mistake of your life.

as the ship began to pull away from the dock, the distance between you growing with every passing moment, you forced yourself to look away, to turn your back on the sight of him disappearing into the crowd. this was for the best, you told yourself. for both of you.

but the hollow ache in your chest told a different story.

as jake stood alone in the opulent chambers of the royal palace, the silence was deafening. the familiar surroundings—grand tapestries, polished marble floors, the scent of the garden wafting in through the open windows—felt foreign, hollow even. he clenched his fists, a bitter knot tightening in his chest as the events of the last few hours played on a loop in his mind.

you had brought him back. without a word, without a goodbye, you had returned him as if nothing had ever happened between them. had it all been a lie?

his throat tightened with the weight of his suspicions. the thought clawed at him—maybe, just maybe, all you ever wanted was the ransom. perhaps every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every tender moment under the stars had been part of the game, just another ploy to keep him content until you could cash in on the prize. he tried to push the idea away, but it clung to him like a shadow, deepening his resentment. he felt foolish now for believing there had been something more, something real.

the ache in his chest wasn’t just from the loss; it was from the sting of betrayal, the sinking realisation that maybe he had been nothing more than a tool, a pawn in your world of gold and greed. the woman he had begun to fall for… did you ever care for him at all? or had he been blinded by his own desires, seeing love where there was only cold calculation?

when he agreed to his father’s demands to marry the princess, he’d done it not out of duty but out of sheer numbness. if he couldn’t have the life he wanted, if you had rejected him and the world he longed for, then what was the point? it was easier to go through the motions, to let himself be swept along by the tide of duty, than to fight for something he thought was never real.

but everything changed a week before the wedding.

jungwon’s letter arrived without warning, delivered to him by a messenger under the cover of night. jake had almost dismissed it, almost crumpled it up and tossed it aside, but the familiar scrawl of the handwriting stopped him. he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the seal—your crew’s seal—for what felt like an eternity before finally opening it.

the words inside shook him to his core.

jungwon’s letter was raw, honest, describing in painstaking detail how lost you’d been without him, how you’d thrown yourself into your new venture with a desperation that worried everyone around you. you were no longer the pirate captain they’d known, but a driven, almost frantic version of yourself, working relentlessly to turn over a new leaf.

“she’s doing this for you, jake, i’ve never seen her like this. she didn’t even bother about the ransom part of the deal”, jungwon had written.

“she loves you more than you can imagine. she’s trying to make herself worthy of you, trying to give you a future she thinks you deserve. but she’s falling apart, and it’s because she believes she made the right choice by letting you go.”

jake’s hands had trembled as he read the letter over and over, his heart pounding with every word. it was as if a fog had lifted, and for the first time, he saw everything clearly. you hadn’t let him go because you didn’t love him. you’d let him go because you thought it was what was best for him. you’d sacrificed your own happiness for his sake, and it was tearing you apart.

the letter had ended with a simple plea: “come back to us, jake. she needs you more than ever.”

the realisation hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d been wrong—so terribly, heartbreakingly wrong. and he wasn’t going to lose you again.

now, he stood outside his father’s chambers, his jaw clenched, his hands fisted at his sides. he took a deep breath, steeling himself, before pushing the heavy doors open and striding inside.

the king looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face at the sight of his son. “jake? what is it? you should be preparing for the wedding.”

jake ignored the tightness in his chest at the mention of the wedding. “i need to talk to you.”

the king frowned. “can it not wait? there’s much to be done—”

“no, it can’t wait,” jake interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. he stepped closer, his heart racing, but his resolve unshakable. “i can’t go through with the wedding.”

silence fell over the room, thick and tense. the king’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “what are you saying, jake?”

“i’m saying i can’t marry someone i don’t love,” jake said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside him. “and i can’t stay here, pretending to be happy when i’m not.”

the king rose from his chair, his face darkening with anger. “this is not about happiness. this is about duty, about securing the future of our kingdom. you can’t just walk away because of some—some fleeting infatuation!”

“it’s not infatuation!” jake’s voice rang out, sharp and defiant. he took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “i love her. and she loves me. she let me go because she thought it was best for me, but she’s wrong. the only place i belong is with her.”

“you belong here,” the king snapped, his voice cold and unyielding. “you are the prince, and soon you will be king. you have responsibilities—”

“what good is being king if i’m miserable?” jake shot back. “what good is a throne if i have to give up everything that makes life worth living?”

the king stared at him, his face a mask of disbelief and fury. “you’re being selfish, jake. this isn’t just about you. this is about our people, our legacy. you can’t throw it all away for some pirate.”

“she’s not just some pirate,” jake said, his voice low but fierce. “she’s everything. and i won’t lose her again.”

the king’s eyes flashed with anger, but jake stood his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew he was risking everything, knew that defying his father like this could mean losing everything he’d ever known. but he didn’t care. not anymore.

“i’m asking you to let me go,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less determined. “i’ll do whatever you want, fulfil whatever duty you ask of me, but not this. not marriage. not a life without her.”

for a long moment, they stood there, father and son, locked in a silent battle of wills. then, slowly, the king’s shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dimming.

“you’re serious about this,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.

jake nodded, his throat tight. “i’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

he sighed, the weight of the world seeming to settle on his shoulders. he looked at his son, really looked at him, and saw the pain, the determination, the desperate love that burned in his eyes.

“very well,” he said finally, his voice weary. “if this is what you truly want, i won’t stand in your way.”

jake’s heart leapt in his chest, hope surging through him. “thank you, father. you don’t know what this means to me.”

the king held up a hand, his expression stern. “but understand this, jake. if you walk away now, you may never have a place here again. are you prepared for that?”

jake met his gaze, his voice steady and unwavering. “i am. because the only place i need to be is with her.”

the king sighed again, then nodded slowly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “then go, my son. and may you find the happiness you seek.”

jake didn’t wait for a second invitation. he turned and strode from the room, his heart pounding with anticipation, his mind racing. he had no time to waste.

he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you back, no matter what it took.

the sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the beach as you sat on the soft, warm sand. the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, a soothing backdrop to your swirling thoughts. you watched the sun dip lower, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson, yet your heart felt heavy with the memories of what had transpired over the past two months.

two months had passed since you left jake behind in his kingdom, believing you were making the right decision. in those weeks, you had poured yourself into your new life as a trade merchant, transforming your ship from a vessel of piracy to one of honest commerce. your crew had embraced the change, excited about the possibilities that lay ahead. the laughter and camaraderie on board had been a welcome distraction, yet every night, as you lay in your bunk, the loneliness crept in like a thief in the night.

on the surface, it looked like you were thriving. you had wealth, respect, and a steady stream of business flowing your way. but it was all a facade.

every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face. the way he’d looked at you that last night, so full of love and hope. you had thought it would get easier with time, but it hadn’t. the ache in your chest only grew, a constant, gnawing pain that no amount of success could soothe.

now that you were currently docked at his kingdom, you couldn’t help but think of him even more, your heart further clenching in pain.

sighing, you pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them as you gazed out at the sea. what had you done? you had given up the one person who made you feel alive, who saw you for who you truly were. you had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing by pushing him away, sparing him from a life filled with uncertainty and danger. but now, as you looked out at the horizon, you felt only regret. you were a businesswoman, yes, but you were also a woman in love, and it hurt like hell.

you looked out at the sea, your heart heavy. maybe it was time to let go of the past. maybe it was time to accept that you’d made your choice, and now you had to live with it, no matter how much it hurt.

but then, a voice—a familiar, beloved voice—shattered the silence.

“y/n!”

you froze, your heart leaping into your throat. you must be dreaming. it couldn’t be—

“y/n!”

your heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and hope flooding through you. you turned around, your breath catching in your throat. there he was—jake. he stood a few paces away, his hair tousled by the sea breeze, his expression a blend of determination and relief. he looked different, more rugged, yet the spark in his eyes was unmistakable.

“jake!” you exclaimed, scrambling to your feet. he ran toward you, and in that moment, everything else faded away. the world around you disappeared, and all that mattered was him.

he reached you in an instant, pulling you into his arms with such force that you stumbled, your feet sinking into the sand. you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and warmth. “i can’t believe it’s really you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against him.

his arms tightened around you, and you felt your heart swell. “jake, i—” you started, but he pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped your eyes.

“y/n, listen to me,” he said, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “i talked to my father. he finally understood. he gave me permission to leave the kingdom. i don’t want to be there without you. i want to be here, with you.”

your heart raced at his words. you had imagined this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, you were overwhelmed with emotion. “but… what about your duties? your responsibilities?”

“i don’t care about any of that!” he replied, frustration threading his voice. “all that matters is you. i’ve been miserable without you. i thought i could move on, do what was expected of me, but i can’t. i love you, y/n.”

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away with the back of your hand. “i love you too, but i thought i was protecting you by leaving. i didn’t want to hold you back from your future.”

jake shook his head, his expression softening. “you didn’t hold me back. you set me free. i realized that the life i wanted, the life i’ve always wanted, is the one i can have with you. i’ll figure out my place in this world, but i can’t do it without you.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, igniting a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. “are you sure?” you asked, your voice trembling. “what if things get complicated again?”

“let them,” he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. “i’m done pretending. i want to build a life with you, no matter how messy it gets.”

in that moment, your heart soared. you stepped closer, and before you could think twice, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. his lips met yours, a sweet, electric connection that sent shivers down your spine. the kiss was everything you had missed—fierce, passionate, filled with the yearning that had built up between you during your time apart.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you savoured the warmth of the moment. “you really mean it?” you asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt.

“i do,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “you’re the only one i want. forever.”

with that, he pulled you close again, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. laughter bubbled up between you as you revelled in the joy of being together once more. you felt lighter than you had in months, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

as he set you down, jake took a step back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “so, tell me about this new life of yours. a businesswoman, huh? i’m not sure i believe that.”

you laughed, a playful glint in your eye. “i’m serious! we’re now trading goods, sailing the seas, and—”

“trading goods? with pirates?” he teased, his brow raised in mock scepticism.

“hey! we’re honest merchants now,” you protested, crossing your arms playfully. “no more piracy!”

he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “you’ll see. we’ve got a shipment heading out next week, and i want you with us.”

his expression turned serious, a hint of determination in his eyes. “i’m in. whatever it takes, i’m by your side.”

in that moment, you both knew that the past didn’t matter anymore. you were no longer defined by your choices; you were defined by your love for each other. the future stretched before you like the vast, open sea, filled with endless possibilities.

and as you stood there on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. your hearts were finally aligned, ready to sail into the horizon of your new life.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @yuniesluv @isa942572 @academiq @missychief1404 @kxppachu (the rest are tagged in a reblog!)

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #jake #sim jake #jake x reader #jake imagines #jake fics #jake oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au #sim jaeyun #jaeyun x reader

783 notes · View notes

is-the-sky-blue · 5 months ago

Text

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (PT 1): GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Synopsis: When you have questions about physical intimacy Satoru and Suguru are quick to answer them.

Warnings: 18+, satosugu x fem!reader, lots of kissing, praise, teasing

>Part 1< Part 2 Part 3

The subject of physical intimacy never really felt like a taboo topic for you, especially when you were only discussing it with your two close friends and you were swimming in unanswered questions.

The very first time you brought it up was in elementary school when you watched Suguru's mother plant a peck onto his father's cheek. It was a strange sight for your young mind to comprehend as you sat on the floor squished between the two boys, backs leaning against the Geto family's pristine couch that your trio never really used, your fingers toying with tufts of the rug as Digimon played on the television.

"What was that?" you questioned with a tilt of you head, wide eyes parting as the scene dispersed, training your focus on the kid of the two lovers.

"A kiss?" he said confused, unsure on what your question was trying ask, "doesn't your mama do that for your papa too," he raised his brow, pudgy fingers plopping a gold fish cracker into his mouth as you shook your head.

"My mama only kisses my forehead," you tap the space above your brows, "I thought your mama and papa are only supposed to kiss you, not each other," and Suguru stares at you quizzically.

"My mama and papa kiss all the time though," he states before turning to Satoru, "do your parents kiss," he asks, waving his hands in front of the young Gojo's face to pry his blue eyes from the tv.

"What!" he exclaims, glaring at the boy on your other side, not catching the question Suguru threw at him before rudely interrupting his Digimon time.

"Do your mama and papa kiss?" you queried this time, watching as his eyebrows raised.

"Not in front of me but sometimes, yeah," he says, biting the head off a red sour path kid.

"Does that mean my mama and papa are kissing in secret," you wondered, the image of your non affectionate parents pressing kisses to each other's forehead out of view from your eyes seeming like a strange secret to keep from you, especially when they argue with each other in front of you all the time.

"Probably," Suguru nods and the three of you brush past it.

The second time you ask about kissing is in your first year of junior high, coddled in blankets as your head rested on Satoru's shoulder as he munched on the popcorn in a bowl he held in his lap, Suguru on his opposite side. The heater rumbled in the corner as snowflakes fell from the night sky. The three of you sat peacefully on the couch, finally transitioning to sitting on the plush cushions of Suguru's sofa as you watched a cheesy Christmas rom-com movie.

"Doesn't that feel funny," you pipe up, watching as the main characters fell into each other's embrace, lips slipping against one another, and you finally realized why this sappy holiday movie was rated PG-13, as between their pressed lips you could see peeks of their tongue pushing into each other's mouths, holding their bodies close to one another as the camera panned around, showing different views of their searing and long awaited kiss that their impalpable chemistry yearned for.

"Funny?" Suguru mumbles, "why would it feel funny."

"They are putting their tongues in each other's mouth," you state bluntly, watching as their lips part as they pant only for the romantic music to persist as they leaned in once more, "wouldn't that feel... slimy?"

"Maybe," Satoru chimes, highly uninterested in the film you insisted on watching in the name of festivity, claiming it had to be good after seeing so many trailers and teasers for the film, "they are swapping spit"

"It sounds gross when you say it that way," Suguru gagged, the scene in front of him now making him cringe.

"But it's the truth," Satoru huffs loading his mouth with butter covered kernels as you nodded your head.

"Then why do they do it if it feels weird," you furrow your brows.

"It must feel nice or something," Satoru concludes as though it was obvious, "love interests always talk about how their heart skips a beat whenever kissing is mentioned, but I feel like they might just be sick."

"It's supposed to be romantic," Suguru scrunched his nose and you had to admit the borderline make out scene on the television did seem pretty loving.

"Is feeling funny romantic," you question, confused.

"Well they say that you feel butterflies in your stomach when you like someone," the dark haired boy states, recalling the cliche line that seemed to satisfy your curiosities.

But that was until Satoru asked, "You wanna try it."

HUH!!!!

To say you were shocked would be an understatement with the way you physically flinched at the question. Try it, try kissing, kissing who, kissing them? You could feel yourself grow slightly warmer but as Suguru merely shrugged with a simple "sure," that appeared nonchalant but the blush on his face betrayed him, your mind caught up with your body which you found was already nodding.

Kissing, you were going to kiss them, your first kiss would be with one of them, but with who? It appeared the two boys also had the same internal monologue as Satoru hummed with furrowed brows, "should we just play rock paper scissors," he questioned, "and whoever is holding the same sign kiss first." Your first kiss would be decided by a game of rock paper scissors... you had to admit that this was pretty on brand for your trio.

Soon enough all three of your fists were shaking as the murmured, "rock paper scissors," was said until three sets of scissors appeared on each of your fingers, "again?" Satoru asked but you merely shook your head with a coy little grin.

"The fates have already spoken," you teased, "we all have to kiss."

"How?" Satoru mumbled watching as suddenly the gears began to turn in Suguru's head as his foot reached out to grab the coffee table and pulled it closer to the couch.

"Sit," he merely commanded, eyes on you as he gestured towards the structure and you quickly oblige, finding yourself eager to be apart of his newly formed plan as you peeled yourself from the bundle of blankets, shivering slightly at the feeling of the cool material seeping into the pant legs of your fuzzy pajamas, staring at the two boys who now sat in front of you.

"What now," you ask, staring at Suguru as he merely shook his head.

"I'm not really sure," he grinned bashfully, "but if we all lean it should work."

"What a plan," Satoru scoffed, earning a light punch to the shoulder.

"What else should we do," Suguru retorted, "if we share each others first kiss then there is less stress," the dark haired boy grumbled, "it's hard to decide who I would want to kiss first," it was said quietly, barely above a whisper but you caught it, a gentle smile crossing your lips as you pressed a hand to his knee.

"We can just try," you mused, "it's just the three of us anyways, no ones gonna tell."

"Guess so," Satoru huffed "am I supposed to count down or somethi-" but he cut himself off, watching the way you began to lean forward and quickly he followed suit.

It was strange to say the least, two pairs of lips on your own as the three of you kissed, a little triangle of mouths. Your eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the feeling, slightly scared what you'd see if you opened them. The kiss was short, quick, and kind of weird but the warming of your cheeks explained how oddly nice it felt as you pulled away.

You felt suddenly breathless as you pulled your hands into fists, staring wide eyed at the bright blushing boys in front of you.

You had just kissed them.

You had given your first kiss to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.

You might be the only person to say that, say your first kiss was given to not only one person but two. The strange pride you felt in your chest was oddly satisfying.

"What now," Satoru was the first to break the silence and you couldn't keep yourself from staring at his lips as he spoke, mesmerized.

"You two kiss first," you mumble out, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him and you could feel the anticipation in your gut grow as they stared at each other with flushed faces.

"Us two," Suguru murmured, entranced by his friend's eyes before turning to you, "why?"

"I want to watch," you admit shamelessly, adjusting your position as you sat comfortably on the table, enjoying the sight of the two boys on the couch who grew warm at your confident words, but the way Suguru slid his hand to cup Satoru's cheeks had you growing warm.

His finger brushed over his pink skin, holding his head in both his hands, keeping him still as they stared at each other intently and you could see Satoru's adam's apple bob ever so slightly as Suguru took the initiative, head moving closer before their lips melded, and your eyes refused to blink, scared to miss a single second as you watched your best friends kiss each other gently.

It lasted a couple seconds and you drank up every second, their lips didn't move like in the film, tongues didn't dance and part of you wanted to speak up about it, mention how they were doing it incorrectly, but you couldn't, it didn't feel right to comment as you watched the way their chest heaved as they panted into each other's mouth as they pulled away.

Instead you merely queried, "did it feel good," and Suguru turned his hooded eyes to you, hand carefully making it's way to your face and you found anticipation begin to grow.

"Why don't you see for yourself."

Quickly you fell into him, eyes shutting as you let him kiss you and you could feel yourself understanding why they couldn't bring themselves to press their tongues inside like the actors had done in the movie, the rush of adrenaline and pure excitement his lips elicited had you clenching your fists as you leaned against him, you felt like a ball of nerves, scared to mess up but the small area where the two of you connected slowly began to soothe you.

God was your face hot.

You pulled away breathless, closed eyes opening to Suguru's smug smile as he tossed your question back at you, "did it feel good," and you felt a strange warmth in your belly as your post-kissed lips pursed.

"mhm," was all you could hum, tongue suddenly feeling numb in your mouth, you don't think you were going to kiss like the movie tonight but that didn't elicit any kind of disappointment, not when Satoru perked in his spot.

"My turn," was all he said before he began to lean in, hands tracing the spots where Suguru once placed his warm palms, his long fingers extending further that his counterpart as his somehow cold hands held you, pretty pink lips finding their way to yours as he quickly captured you.

For some reason you believed that kissing would always feel the same, sure there were different types of kisses but you thought that kissing Suguru would feel the same as kissing Satoru but quickly you were proven wrong, even if it was through a little closed mouth connection.

Suguru was light, lips pressing yours tenderly and with this all consuming warmth as his hot palms held your head lightly, holding you close whereas Satoru was a little bit rougher, lips pressing hard into yours as though he was trying to devour you, his slightly cold palms cupping your face gently but firmly as he pulled you into him.

They were each other's antithesis and yet despite their contrasting polarities you were undoubtedly attracted to both, finding yourself melting into both kisses with earnest as you found yourself just as breathless as Satoru pulled away, his fingers pinching the fat of your cheek one last time before letting them fall to his sides.

You felt like you were on a whole other plane of existence as your lungs tried to find air, your eyes finding pretty little grins that made you splay one on your own kiss fried lips.

Over the years the three of you had shared many secrets, from Satoru confessing to the two of you that it was indeed him that had broken the principal's window with a baseball, to Suguru confiding that he had practically run away from a girl who tried to give him a love letter.

Now the three of you had shared yet another secret, but this one was far from the rest, settling in it's own little category, hiding from prying eyes, it's content much more intimate than the others.

A dirty little secret had begun to fester and the three of you nurtured it with care.

The moment had marked the very first point in time in which you grew much more intimate.

Farewells were no longer only paired with hugs but kisses to the cheek or forehead as well. Cuddles on the couch oftentimes included a kiss to the lips. Innocent touches began to grow much more common as the three of you found yourself locked in Suguru's room, lips touching lips in the space, as unlike your home, in the Geto household the open door policy was not in effect.

So behind closed doors the three of you stole not only each other's first kiss, but your second, third, fourth, and many more after that.

It was in your second year of junior high when your kisses were born from less desire and more fun, a general domestic love beginning to blossom and snickers parted past your lips.

"Orange!"

"Strawberry."

They threw out their guesses, licking off the gloss coating their mouths. "Strawberry," you nod and Suguru pumped his fists as Satoru slumped.

"How is that strawberry," he fumed, leaning in for yet another taste of your chapstick covered lips only to grumble in annoyance, "Suguru what kind of lip glosses are you buying," he huffs, "they don't even taste right," and Suguru shrugged his shoulders, indulging in your taste once again before sighing.

"First of all these are chapsticks," the boy corrected, "second of all don't blame me because your tastebuds are all messed up."

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

Currently they were in a battle to see who could guess the most flavours correct after Suguru had given you a multi pack of chapsticks at the store his uncle ran, getting them for free after stocking a couple shelves, determined to place them in your care after an offhand comment you made about your lips being dry.

"Did you taste the flavours before giving them to her like some weirdo pervert," Satoru accused as you wiped off the previous flavour, secretly spreading a different balm over your lips, "are you into licking chapsticks and then giving them to girls!"

"You were there when she opened the package."

"You could've resealed it."

"Stop being a sore loser," Suguru complained before training his attention on you, watching as you laugh in jest, clearly enjoying their banter before stealing your focus, your eyes instinctively falling closed as he cupped your face, thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, your shoulders decompressing as you eagerly melted into him before he was rudely pulled off.

"Stop hogging her, you are going to lick off the taste," Satoru is quick to state before leaning in, capturing your lips before you could even open your eyes again. You can hear a thwack as Suguru smacks the boys back, the jolt lightly jostling your own head.

"I'm not licking off anything," he grumbles, rolling his eyes as the snowy haired boy finally reeled himself away, or rather you pushed him off, hand coming up to his mouth to keep him from going in again as you laughed, trying to catch your stolen breath as Satoru licked his lips.

"You have your guesses," you muse at the two boys, their heads nodding before you count down.

"Vanilla!"

"Vanilla."

You have to bite your lips to keep a giggle at bay, the way they look at each other is filled with so much irritation.

"You stole my answer!" Satoru claims with an accusatory finger.

"Why would I steal your answer if you've been wrong for the past five rounds!" and before you let their bickering continue, you cut them off.

"Well regardless you both are wrong," you confess, openly snickering at their widened eyes before reaching behind you to grab the container, flashing the label.

"Snowstorm..." Suguru trails off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME," Satoru exclaims, brows shooting to his forehead before he's on you, tackling you onto Suguru's mattress, cupping the back of your head to make sure you don't hit the sheets too hard before he's sitting on your torso, staring down at you. "What the hell does a snowstorm taste like," he scrunches his face, faux anger directed towards you as though you were the one to manufacture the labels.

"Vanilla apparently," you laugh, his fingers merely gripping your shoulders tighter before kissing you once more, mumbling, 'snowstorm my ass,' as he tastes it again, or rather you again.

Until then the dirty little secret the three of you shared wasn't all that dirty, you merely pressed closed mouth kisses to each other's lips, tiny little pecks at best onto your faces in the confines of a bedroom, hands never trailing below the shoulders, never taking the time to explore the intricacies of each others bodies, tongues never taking the time to explore each other's mouths.

Well that was until the holidays rolled around once more, the three of your perched on Suguru's couch as junior high third years, the very same movie playing on the screen.

"Do you still think it feels funny," Satoru chimes smugly, elbowing your side as he sits in the middles, squished between you and Suguru much like a couple years prior as he held the bowl of popcorn in his hands.

"I dunno," you murmur, the scene that sparked the question that day playing on the television as the actor's slipped inside each other's mouths.

"What do you mean you don't know," he huffs, leaning his head on your shoulder as you focus on the screen.

"Well we only really give each other, pecks..." you try, "while they are french kissing," the terms felt quite foreign on your tongue, the only reason they were added to your dictionary because of a youtube video you watched. You weren't signed into your account so the generic algorithm, yet to be fed with your likes presented an array of miscellaneous content, one of which titled 'How to French Kiss' that caught your attention quickly, and despite your brain telling you it was stupid and weird thing to watch you still clicked on it, watching mesmerized as two people went through different types of kisses, ranging from the chaste kisses you were familiar with to ones full of tongue that you had only witnessed in films.

"Isn't french kissing the one where they kiss each other's cheeks," Satoru furrows his brows.

"That is French," Suguru notes, "but a french kiss is like the one they're doing," he gestures to the movie.

"It's the one where they shove their tongues in their mouths," you add and Satoru cringed much like how he did last year when you stated the same words and he sighs before collecting himself.

"You wanna try," and you could feel a strange sense of deja vu as the events began to play out once more. Suguru's foot grabbed the table and you found your seat, as instead of playing rock paper scissors this time you urged the two boy's to kiss first and they quickly obliged your request, never ones to ever really deny you.

"You sure you don't wanna all touch tongues first," Satoru hums, teasingly eying you as Suguru carefully grasped his face, listening to your laugh before lips splayed onto his.

You stared intently as the scene unfolded similarly to years prior, and the longer you watched the more you realized that this was far too similar to years prior. Their tongues not dancing and instead of biting back your words you blurt them out, "you are supposed to use your tongue," you state and you can hear Suguru hum as he pulls away.

"I was getting there," he grumbles, eying your captivated figure before an all too smug smirk graced his lips that soon captured Satoru once more. You were glued to the scene, a muffled gasp playing into your ears as Suguru finally parted their sealed lips, mouths moving in tandem as between their newly angled heads, pretty peeks of pink tongues were spotted. You watched as though they were a film, two teenage boys holding each other tightly, Suguru's hands cupping Satoru's face gingerly while he threaded his fingers through dark locks, their faces illuminated by the tv screen behind you, painting reddened cheeks with a frosty blue glow as they moved their eager mouths.

They were an oil painting, a beauty that you felt unworthy to bare witness to as they displayed themselves to you, vulnerable and full of desire as they slid against one another, hands beginning to wander as Suguru slid from Satoru's warmed cheeks to his shoulders before planting on his hips, the hands threaded in his hair yanking and you licked your watering mouth, their eyes closed in bliss as hums of contentment rang through your ears, audio of the movie that once played ignored as the only music you wanted to listen to was them, the only art you wanted to consume was them.

It was delicate in the way the two finally pulled away, kiss bitten lips finally experiencing what it was to kiss, what it was to love, to pour yourself into a single part of yourself, to share that love with a partner despite the labels placed on one another being friends, they experienced a yearning for more and that yearning included you.

"Does it feel nice," you muse, the nostalgic words bringing Suguru's love drunk hooded eyes towards you, hair that was once neatly tied in a pretty black bun falling in rivulets as they framed his face.

"Do you run on a script or something," the boy mused, glittering at the familiar words as he reached for you.

"Just following tradition," you hum, "after all isn't that a large part of the holidays," you smile as he begins to lean closer.

"I don't really like traditions," he sighs, "but if those traditions include you two, I'll follow them until the day I die," and he shifted closer before murmuring, "why don't you see for yourself," to appease you and just like that he was on you, leaving you no time to laugh at the sappy words as he pressed himself into you, and finally you began to understand why he placed a chaste kiss to Satoru first.

The nerves that jumbled beneath your skin at the thought of participating in a tongue driven dance melted as he consumed you, the familiar feeling of his lips that you've felt against yours for hours at a time gracing your mouth, nothing different, nothing new, your fear of the unknown now deceased as he gave you a comfort of the known, warm lips against yours as his warm hands pressed against your cheeks before he pulled away, letting you take in a breath of air before he stole it once more.

He grasped you in his spell once more, enchanting you to his whims as he angled his head in a way you've never felt before, his lips hitting yours as he urged you to open your mouth alongside him, gently guiding you in a waltz as you finally felt his warm tongue enter your mouth, the foreign intrusion not unwelcome as he helped, his roaming hands finding purchase on your hips with one on the back of your scalp, pushing you into him as you fisted the fabric of his shirt, scared to explore as you went dizzy as he drank you in, guiding you so gently as you kissed, lips glued as he moved you in sync.

It was heated, with a fuzzy feeling lighting up your brain as you focused on him and only him, his two hands that were on you, drinking in their warmth until that warmth multiplied to four and you immediately recognize his touch, his slightly colder hands running along the length of your waist, lithe fingers squeezing as they scaled every curve. You were being devoured, nibbled upon by gentle lips and groping touches as they both set off on an adventure, wandering around on the island of your body and you let them.

You couldn't help but whine when you felt the warm kiss break off, cold air rushing into your screaming lungs that you couldn't care less about, you wanted him, needed him but before you could even make an attempt for his pretty lips he sang those oh so familiar words, "did it feel good," and just like last time your fumbling mouth couldn't run, words stolen by him as you merely hummed.

"mhm," airy and light as you stared at him with desire, feeling your beating heart thrum in your ears as you felt the hands that traversed your waist pull you towards him, grabbing your attention with his beautiful blue eyes, pink lips awaiting your arrival as he grinned.

"My turn pretty," he didn't ask but rather commanded, and you couldn't give yourself time to dwell on the pet name that spilled from his lips, the name that didn't refer to you as pretty but the embodiment of the word itself, your warmed cheeks the only evidence of his effect as he pulled for you and you shut your eyes to wait, only to hear a soft, "Tilt your head Toru," and as you peeked them open you could see Suguru's large fingers guiding Satoru's mouth to yours, angling his face to the side and you could feel yourself burning, lips parting and then you could feel Satoru on you, lips finding purchase on your own and you reached for his face, hands cupping Suguru's who merely interlaced your fingertips upon Satoru's cheek.

Satoru was, much like with all the sweets he ate, eager, tongue delving into your mouth. He was Suguru's opposite in all forms as his sloppy, unpracticed lips took whatever you had to offer. It was a clash of teeth and tongue and while it was messy and far from the tender guiding kiss Suguru offered it still made your mind blast off fireworks.

He didn't guide you but dominated you much to your compliance as your melting lips put up no protest. His hands travelled high up your torso, barely brushing against the side of your boob before travelling back down, elated fingers brushing and squeezing as he kissed you, finally and truly kissed you.

The two of you separated against your own will but to your lungs relief, as your heaving chest gulped down air as soon as your connected mouth parted, but despite your detachment a single clear tether held your two mouths together, the thin bridge connecting you two slowly dissolved the further your head shifted away.

Suguru could feel himself gulp, the lewd saliva strand that stood between his two friend's mouths doing things to his body he couldn't quite understand, the very image something he wanted to burn into his memory, a picture he wanted to frame and as he watched the two of you pant he couldn't help the tug on his chest that filled him with lust.

He watched as your form straightened, bleary eyes blinking as you stared at Satoru, cloudy vision trained on his lips and as you opened your mouth to speak he expected to hear your sultry voice spill a praise that'd make his heart skip a beat, but he was quick to put that thought to rest.

"S-Satoru are you..." you pause, catching your breath, "eating sour gummies," you question, eyes wide with shock as Satoru flinched at your words.

"W- Wha, huh, N-No!" he stumbles, taken aback.

"You are," you gasp, "you totally are!" and you are pouncing forward, trying to pat around the couch to find where he hid the package as Suguru quickly removed the popcorn bowl from the vicinity, placing it on a side table as you and Satoru begin to wrestle, the white haired boy trying to fight you off as you peel away the blankets.

"Get off me you psycho!" he exclaims, "I don't have anything."

"Then why do you taste like blue raspberry!" you yell.

Soon enough your dirty little secret grew a little bit more filthier as instead of quick little kisses the three of you entered in contact that would be considered make outs. Bodies tightly wound as hands wandered from waists, to hips, to light brushes against chests and sliding over an occasional ass. Lips were more fervent in their approach with erotic sounds to match the pace as little whines and gasps graced the room.

Kisses were often given in more risky places eliciting slight protests as you hid between tall abandoned shelves in the library, pinned between bodies and books as they'd shush you. Kisses placed in the Gojo estates bathroom as you did your best to stay quiet as to not alert the wandering workers as they cleaned the manor.

Your kisses never escalated into anything more but the two boys always seemed to scratch the irritating itch at the back of your brain that blossomed every so often, the itch they clambered over to soothe. The kisses you shared were always heated, lasting for nearly hours as the time between each session was lingering near months as times like this came few and far between. Despite the fact that something like this should've signaled something more in your trio, should've alluded to the three of you taking the next step in your relationship, you all stayed at the title of friends, or best friends, if that made it any better.

You were just a couple of pals who made out once and a while and went out together all the time, some would say you were dating but the thought never really crossed your mind, mainly because you didn't dare think about it. Especially since the kisses you shared weren't given on the regular, even quick pecks hidden from the public's eyes, it was because these were your dirty little secrets.

#satosugu x reader #satosugu x y/n #satosugu x you #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru x reader x suguru #gojo x reader x geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

333 notes · View notes

cei1ne · 11 days ago

Text

—How the MHA men would react to you wiping their kiss as a a prank! Pt.2!

დ”*•.Summary:

Reaction of each male My hero academia character of you wiped their kiss after they had kissed your lips

◌⑅⃝♡⋆Pairing:

Izuku Midoriya ; Shinsou Hitoshi ; Aizawa Shouta ; Takami Keigo ; Enji Todoroki

✩•̩̩͙*˚Tags: Fluff, funny, prank, loving, married life, aged up

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰Wordcount: 1.7k

❧◦°˚A/N:

This is part two since I just in a few minutes gained lots of likes! I’m so thankful guys, thank you so much! I’m really trying my best to make it as presentable as possibe and I hope you guys enjoy them! English isn’t my first language but ily guys!

Pt.1 Masterlist

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳➳༻❀✿

ᜊ| Izuku Midoriya (After he gets a promotion)

Izuku’s face was glowing with pride as he told you the news about his promotion. His words tumbled out in an excited rush, his green eyes sparkling with joy. You couldn’t help but beam at him, feeling just as proud.

“That’s amazing, Izuku!” you said, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you tightly before you leaned in and kissed him. It was tender, full of love and admiration.

But when you pulled back, you wiped your mouth with a theatrical frown.

He froze. “D-Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you said, tilting your head. “Kinda tastes… Nerdy.”

His face turned as red as a tomato. “N-Nerdy?! What does that even mean?!”

You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face. “Like… textbooks and feels sloppy.”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I—I… Do I really taste like that?”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. “No, Izuku! I’m just messing with you.”

He sighed in relief, though his cheeks remained bright red. “That’s not funny,” he muttered.

You grinned, pulling him into another kiss. “It’s a little funny.”

۵| Shinsou Hitoshi (After a midnight talk)

The moonlight streamed through the window as you and Hitoshi sat on the couch, sharing a rare moment of quiet. His deep voice rumbled softly as he talked about his patrols, his tone calm and soothing. You leaned in, kissing him softly to interrupt him mid-sentence.

He kissed you back without hesitation, his hand cupping your cheek. But when you pulled away, you wiped your mouth with a slight grimace.

His violet eyes narrowed. “Something you want to share?”

“Mm, just seems… lazy,” you said, smirking.

He raised an eyebrow. “Lazy?”

“Yeah, like all the yawns you try to hold back,” you teased.

He stared at you for a moment before a slow smirk spread across his face. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You laughed, leaning back into the couch. “A little.”

“Well, guess what?” he said, his tone turning mischievous. “You’re gonna dream about how I taste.”

Before you could respond, his voice dropped into a lower register. “Go to sleep.”

You blinked, realizing too late he was using his quirk. “Hitoshi, no—” But the world faded, and you fell asleep to the sound of his quiet chuckle.

❧| Takami Keigo (Hawks) (After he surprises you with takeout)

The flutter of wings was your only warning before Keigo landed gracefully in the kitchen, a bag of takeout in one hand and his signature grin firmly in place. “Special delivery!” he announced, holding the bag up like a trophy.

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually fly with that?”

“Of course,” he said, puffing out his chest. “The fastest delivery service in the city.”

You laughed, taking the bag and setting it on the table. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Only the best for you,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were soft and teasing, lingering just long enough to make your heart skip a beat.

But when you pulled away, you wiped your mouth dramatically, wrinkling your nose.

Keigo’s golden eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa. What’s that for?”

“Feathers,” you said, smirking. “I think one got stuck.” You say, acting like you’re trying to search for it, placing a finger in your mouth and feeling each tooth.

He blinked, then narrowed his eyes playfully. “Oh, really? Feathers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you continued, your tone teasing. “Kinda ruins the whole vibe.”

He stared at you for a beat before breaking into a mischievous grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Before you could respond, he swooped you up in his arms, his wings spreading wide. “If you’ve got a problem with feathers, maybe I should make you a little more familiar with them.”

“Keigo!” you squealed as he took off, flying just high enough to make your stomach flip.

“Next time, maybe don’t wipe off my kisses,” he teased, his laughter echoing through the room.

ஐ| Shouta Aizawa (Erasure head) (After he catches you staying up late)

It was well past midnight when Shouta appeared in the doorway of the living room, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of you scrolling on your phone. Wrapped in a blanket and completely absorbed, you didn’t even notice him at first.

“Bed. Now.”

His gruff voice startled you, and you looked up with a sheepish grin. “I was just about to!”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Sure you were.”

“Okay, okay,” you said, setting your phone down and standing up. “See? I’m going.”

As you passed him, you leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It was a small act of affection, a way to diffuse his irritation. His lips were warm, and he responded instinctively, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.

But as you pulled back, you wiped your mouth dramatically, wrinkling your nose as if something was wrong.

Shouta’s eyes narrowed further. “What was that?”

“Hmm,” you said, feigning thoughtfulness. “Tastes… grumpy.”

“Grumpy?” he repeated, his tone flat but edged with a hint of incredulity.

“Yeah,” you continued, biting back a smile. “Like coffee and bad moods. Maybe a hint of sarcasm.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he murmured, his voice low as he looked down at you.

“A little,” you admitted, grinning.

He shook his head, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “Lucky for you, I’m too tired to argue.”

Before you could tease him further, he leaned down and kissed you again, slow and deliberate, leaving no room for complaints. When he pulled back, he smirked.

“Now go to bed before I decide to show you what grumpy really tastes like,” he said, his tone dry but tinged with amusement.

You laughed, backing away toward the bedroom. “Fine, but you’re still grumpy!”

“Goodnight,” he called after you, his voice carrying a rare warmth that lingered in the quiet house.

❥| Enji Todoroki (Endeavor) (After a family dinner)

Dinner had gone surprisingly smoothly. For once, no one had raised their voice, and even Natsuo had stayed to chat longer than usual. Enji’s gruff but earnest attempts to engage with everyone had left you both impressed and a little amused.

As the evening wound down, you found him in the hallway, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the soft glow of the lights. He seemed deep in thought, his expression stern as usual, though there was a faint softness in his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, walking up to him. “You did good tonight.”

He turned to look at you, his gaze softening slightly. “It wasn’t much.”

“It was,” you insisted, smiling. “And I’m proud of you.”

Before he could respond, you leaned up and kissed him. His lips were warm and firm, his large hand settling gently on your waist as he kissed you back. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, one he didn’t often show.

But when you pulled back, you wiped your mouth with a theatrical frown.

His brows furrowed instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Hot,” you said, shaking your head as if trying to cool down. “Like kissing a fireball. I think my lip burned!”

Enji’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “You knew that when you kissed me.”

“Yeah,” you said, smirking. “But I didn’t expect it to be that hot.”

He sighed, his hand falling to his side. “If you’re going to mock me—”

“I’m not mocking you!” you interrupted, laughing. “I’m just teasing.”

He stared at you for a moment, his stern expression unwavering, before he finally muttered, “You’re impossible.”

You grinned, reaching up to tug gently at his tie. “And yet, here we are.”

As you turned to walk away, his voice stopped you. “Next time, don’t complain if I turn the heat up.”

You glanced back at him, catching the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. “Oh, I’m not scared,” you replied, your tone playful.

He shook his head, but the warmth in his gaze said more than words ever could.

221 notes · View notes

javier-pena · 8 months ago

Text

quicksand

Pairing: Pedro's unnamed character in Materialists x f!reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You meet a stranger at a party.

Notes: Last week I saw these behind the scenes shots of Pedro in Materialists and somehow I had to write 8,000 words about that? I'm also not quite sure what happened, it was supposed to be like 3k max. There was also this ask Han @swiftispunk received that I couldn't get out of my head. The title is inspired by Ms Swift's song Treacherous (And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand), the rest is inspired by going completely feral whenever new pictures dropped. Tremendous thanks to Dani @alexturner who just beta'd a long-ass fic last week and then this fic this week - you're being way too good to me with indulging all thoughts I have that I have to turn into short stories 🫣 My dear, sweet anon who kept sending me encouraging asks, this is for you!!

***

There’s laughter coming from downstairs, deep, rumbling laughter impossible to ignore. Your whole body seems to shake with it, your heart stutters in your chest angrily, and you press your hands over your ears. But the loud voices are still there, mocking you with their indifference to your pain. You bury your face in your cool satin pillow and sob into it, ruining the expensive fabric. You don’t fucking care.

All your friends warned you this would happen and you hate how they were right. “You’re nothing but a toy to him.” Shut up, Marissa, you’re just jealous. “Maybe you should look for a boyfriend who’s closer to you in age.” Maybe you should look for a boyfriend, period. “You’re only a fuckmaid to him, do you realize that?” That was the point you stopped listening to them and, at the same time, it was the point you should have started listening.

You are nothing but a toy to him. You should have looked for someone closer to you in age. You are … no, you can’t bring yourself to even think the word, because the truth hurts too much. The truth and your blindness and your stupidity and the fact that you’re throwing your life away for a man who breaks every promise he makes and who treats you like a pet. A beautiful, expensive pet that can be ignored whenever it’s convenient.

“Come with me to the Keys,” he whispered into your ear, his breath hotter than his steadily cooling release sticking to your thighs.

“What?” you asked, heart clenching painfully. When was the last time he cared enough to make you come? Months ago?

“Come with me to the Keys,” he repeated. “The change of scenery will be good for us. I’ll show you around. We can go deep sea fishing. I’ll buy you some dresses and bathing suits. Just take my card tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair away from your neck, kissed the skin there, cupped one of your breasts, squeezed it hard. “Piers,” you warned, tried to get away from him. But there was nowhere to go.

The truth is you had been looking forward to his trip. Had been looking forward to having the apartment to yourself for a while. It’s not like you would’ve done anything in particular except just breathe for once.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbled against your neck, squeezed your breast again. “Don’t you want to sip on a nice cocktail? Wear a risqué outfit for me?”

No, you didn’t want that. But if you didn’t say yes soon, he’d get angry. “Okay,” you gave in. “But you have to promise me that you’ll spend one day with me. No business.”

What’s easily promised is easily broken.

Today is supposed to be your day. And for once in your life, you thought it would be. Piers took you out for breakfast, right by the water. You watched the sunshine dance across the waves. Then he showed you around town, took you to his favorite spots in Key West, even held your hand. And you thought, This is it. I’m finally worthy of him. Then came the call, followed by those emails, and suddenly Piers was like, “Sorry, babe, I have to meet them, they’re important business partners. Why don’t you go to the beach club, buy yourself a nice massage? Here’s my card.”

Here's my card. You’ve never hated three words more.

What you didn’t expect was to come home to a party. At least twenty men were milling around the house Piers liked to refer to as his “Key West Residence”, a late 19th century villa. Twenty loud men, rich like Piers, most of them his age, leering at you as you stepped through the front door, mistaking you for tonight’s entertainment.

“Babe!” Piers boomed, spilling half his drink while opening his arms as if he meant to hug you. The glances didn’t stop. “Go upstairs, freshen up, put on something nice, and then let me show you off.”

You managed to complete the first step before breaking down on your bed. You’ve been sobbing ever since.

Something breaks downstairs and some of the men roar. You bury your face deeper against the pillow, terrified to go back downstairs, terrified to stay up here. Whatever you do, it will be the wrong thing. You close your eyes and think about what it would be like if the men downstairs vanished. If you had the house to yourself, sharing it with a person you loved and who loved you in return. You could be having dinner on the patio now. Before that, you might go for a swim in the pool, knowing the only eyes on you were your partner’s, the only glances you received were welcome.

You sit up straight. You might hate it when Piers’ business partners look at you like you’re a piece of meat, but Piers hates it too if they don’t do it without being invited. Twenty men imagining all the vile ways in which they could fuck you is the last thing you want right now, but it’s also the last thing Piers wants.

You stumble into the bathroom and wash your face with ice cold water, willing the puffiness of your eyes to recede. You put on your most expensive makeup, the kind that only comes off with intensive scrubbing, then you pick your most revealing bikini and put it on. If those men stared at you like that in a long sundress, their heads will probably explode if they see you like this.

Chin held high, beach towel thrown over your shoulder, you make your way downstairs on high heels the same shade of black as your bikini. You feel utterly stupid, like you’re giving them exactly what they want, but the flush that spreads across Piers’ cheeks when he sees you is worth it. There are some whistles, a few crude comments, one man slaps your ass, but you make it to the pool. None of them are brave enough to follow you outside.

The water is cool against your skin, doing its best to extinguish the fire that burns within you. The flames don’t die down completely but they’re certainly soothed. You start to swim, one length, then three, and soon the party resumes and the men pick up their conversations again. This almost feels normal; this almost feels like a life you could enjoy. Except that you’re alone. And not in a way you crave.

You stop swimming and start drifting on your back, watching the sky above turn from a gentle blue into a soft pink, a bright orange, a deep purple. Soon, the sun will go down and the party will pick up speed. You should go, put on a dress, let Piers show you off, vanish before they’ve had too much alcohol.

You climb out of the pool, squeeze water out of your hair, wrap the towel around yourself. No one is paying attention to you now, so you pick up your heels to carry them back upstairs. There’s no way you’ll make it back to your room without one or two unwanted glances, without the odd rude comment, but you can live with that. You step onto the patio, eyes firmly fixed on your destination, then start walking through the gathering, careful not to look at anyone, careful not to be seen.

Someone sees you though. It’s not Piers, and it also isn’t one of the men who look at you and lick their lips. It’s someone watching you from the shadows, someone on one of the chairs in the parlor. Keep your eyes on the stairs, you tell yourself. Nothing good can come from this. While you were in the pool, Piers must have turned on the music, old jazz songs he always plays when he wants to appear sophisticated. The tinny sounds of saxophones make your ears ring, irritating you more than the heavy smell of cigar smoke that seems to be seeping into every corner of the house. You feel horrible between all those men dressed in their suits, even with the towel covering most of your skin. And you wish that one man would stop watching you because it makes you feel hunted, makes your body beg to run and hide.

At the foot of the stairs you pause, your heart in your throat. A man brushes past you, pretending like there is only so little room he has to press his palm against the small of your back. You turn around looking for Piers, ready to pretend you have a horrific migraine and won’t be joining him after all, when your eyes land on the man who is making the hair at the back of your neck stand with his unrelenting gaze.

You can’t see him properly because he’s half hidden behind the door to the parlor, a room that’s devoid of proper lighting and full of cigar smoke. But you see his dark eyes on you, feel them look right through you, see you for who you are, while he laughs at something the man next to him is saying. You crane your neck to get a better look at him but two other men walk past, obscuring your view. When they spot you and start to make their way toward you, you bolt up the stairs. At least no one will dare to follow you up here.

*******

“There she is!” Piers announces later, opening his arms wide again. He doesn’t spill his drink this time. You step into his embrace and let him kiss your cheek. “Took you long enough, doll.” You hate it when he calls you that, but you keep on smiling. Then he leans closer and whispers, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. Letting another man touch you! What’s wrong with you?”

So it did bother him after all. It should make you feel proud, but it only makes you feel empty. “I’m sorry,” you whisper back and kiss him. Someone at the back of the room whistles.

“Just try to behave for the rest of the night,” he says coldly, then smiles at you and asks in his loud business voice, “Isn’t she lovely?”

Some of the men nod but none dare to look at you directly. Not when Piers has his arm slung around your shoulder anyway.

“How about a drink?” he asks you and when you nod, he takes your hand and leads you toward the bar at the back of the parlor. You follow him, shivering slightly from the evening breeze blowing in through the open French doors. The smoke in the room makes your eyes sting.

With practiced ease, Piers fills a sparkling glass with vodka and soda, adding a bit of lime juice. You try to ignore the man who is standing a little bit too close to you, whose eyes hang a little bit too low.

“Here you are.” Piers hands you the glass. “I have something to discuss with those gentlemen over there,” he nods at two men standing by the door to his study, “but I shouldn’t be too long. Try not to cause too much of a scene while I’m gone.”

You close your fingers around the glass and nod. All you want to do is run.

As soon as he’s gone, they start to close in on you. It’s what Piers wants. He wants others to desire what belongs to him – his apartment, his car, his life. You’re part of all of that. He wants these men to desire you, to think they can have you. You should have listened to your friends, to Marissa and Annie and all the others. If you had, you might hate yourself less.

You know they all want to talk to you and they won’t take no for an answer, so you start to make your way toward the open French doors to escape into the garden. If you stand right at the edge, you can hear the waves whisper and feel the ocean breeze on your face. And if you keep still long enough, they might forget about you.

You don’t even make it out the door before your eyes start to wander from the lush green bushes and trees outside and land on a man sitting in a leather armchair close to the open doors. You don’t know if it’s the same one whose gaze you felt on you earlier, but there’s something about him that makes it hard for you to look away. He’s in the middle of a conversation, one leg comfortably slung across the other, ankle resting against thigh. One of his hands is spread on his knee, his fingers stroking and tapping the expensive fabric of his back dress pants in a nervous tick. His other hand is wrapped around a glass full of amber liquid that he takes a swig from right as you walk past, pretending not to notice how the muscles in his neck work as he swallows, pretending not to notice the gold ring on his little finger that clinks against the glass as he lowers it again.

Your own drink untouched, you stand on the patio, off to the side where you hope no one will notice you but where you can look at that stranger from time to time. You don’t think you’ve seen him before, but you don’t usually pay a lot of attention to Piers’ associates. None of the men here this evening look familiar. Still, there is something about the way this man runs his fingers through his dark curls from time to time, the way he tries to smooth the wrinkles in his white shirt, the way he takes a drag from a big, dark brown cigar once in a while that makes it impossible for you to look away. Until another man demands your attention.

“Hi there,” he says, his laugh showing off perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I’m Hutton.”

You think about saying, “And I’m not interested,” but to Piers that would probably count as causing a scene. And Hutton looks like he’s one of the younger men here, probably in his late 30s. There are worse guys to talk to. “Hi,” you reply with a sweet smile.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” He steps closer to you, encouraged by your smile.

“Yes,” you reply. “So how do you know Piers?”

If he’s annoyed by you bringing up your boyfriend right away, he doesn’t let it show. “We work together,” he answers, which could mean anything in Piers’s world.

“And what brings you to Key West?”

“The scenery,” Hutton answers, not even trying to hide his hungry gaze that glides over your naked shoulders and cleavage.

“I thought it was business,” you say, your smile faltering slightly. “Seeing you’re here.”

“I try not to mix business with pleasure.” Hutton leans against the small sliver of wall between the French doors and the corner of the house. “It’s neither good for business nor pleasure.”

You hum, trying to take a step back. You’re already at the edge of the patio though, and you almost stumble off it, losing your footing.

Hutton grabs your arm and pulls you toward him. “Careful there, pretty girl.”

You try to pull your arm back but he won’t let go. “Thank you,” you say at the same time as he says, “Have you ever thought about exchanging Piers for a younger model?”

It didn’t take him more than a few words exchanged to get to the point.

You yank your arm free but he grabs it again. “Stop it,” you command in your strictest voice but he only grins at you.

“Don’t be like this. I’m only fooling around.”

“Then let go of me.” He doesn’t.

You’re about to throw your drink in his face, even if it means Piers will be angry with you again, when someone steps out onto the patio.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

He’s standing right there, one hand in the pocket of his dark pants, the other holding his cigar. Shame washes over you and your palms grow sweaty. You really don’t need this right now. But Hutton immediately lets go of you and turns to face the newcomer.

“We’re good here, thanks,” he says, his jaw clenched.

The stranger takes his time to take a drag on his cigar, lets out the smoke while looking up at the now deep purple evening sky. “It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks and Hutton lets out a sigh.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” he asks.

The stranger shrugs.

You glance into the parlor, at all the men milling about, wondering if you could make your escape without anyone noticing. But there is something in the way the stranger holds himself that makes you want to stay and find out how this ends. Piers, by now, would have rushed past Hutton, a snarl on his lips, his anger directed at you. The stranger just stands there, his shoulders relaxed, acting as if he doesn’t even particularly care that you and Hutton are out here on the patio as well. It’s a different kind of threat … a different kind of protectiveness.

Hutton turns to you. “Are you coming?”

You shake your head and with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed, “Whatever,” he vanishes into the house, leaving you alone with him.

The silence unbearable, you say, “Thank you.”

He takes another drag on his cigar, then comes closer to you. You ignore how your heart flutters at his approach. He reaches for your hand and for a wild moment you think he’s going to grab your arm too, but he only takes the drink from your hand, sniffs the contents of the glass, then dumps it over the edge of the patio. “Let’s get you a proper drink,” he says.

You’re too stunned to do much more than follow him back into the house and toward the bar. Around you, the volume has risen since you stepped out onto the patio, but you don’t care as much as you did before. It’s hard to care about anything when your stomach is in a tight knot and when you feel like the world around you has gone completely quiet.

The man steps behind the bar, gently places his cigar in an ashtray, then regards the collection of bottles before him with his hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a vodka girl to me,” he mumbles, and you feel your face grow hot. You don’t know why. “Here.” He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vermouth. You only now notice how big his hands are, and your mind immediately starts to replay the evening. His hand on his knee, his hand around his glass, his hand … You shake your head, but the shiny gold ring on his little finger glitters enticingly as he unscrews the bottle of vermouth to smell the alcohol within. It’s like you’re a magpie, enchanted by everything that glitters.

“Sweet enough,” he concludes, pouring a little vermouth and a lot of whiskey into a martini glass. Then he goes through all the bottles once more until he finds one of lavender bitter and adds it to the mix.

“What is that?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m not done yet.” There’s a small jar of cocktail cherries he unscrews. With skilled movements, he skewers two of them onto a silver cocktail stick before handing you the glass. The mix inside is orange on top, a reddish purple deeper below. It looks like the sunset you watched earlier.

“What is it?” you ask again.

“Taste it,” he tells you, an eager glint in his eyes.

You take a careful sip and widen your eyes in surprise at the strong yet sweet taste. “Oh, this is really good!”

“It’s sweet, like you,” he says, then seems to change his mind, adopting a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “It’s a Manhattan. That’s where you belong, not in this tourist trash kind of town.”

That makes you laugh. “Hey, I like it here.”

The bar is still between you but he leans on it to get closer to you. “I bet you would also like Manhattan if I showed you around.”

“I’m from Manhattan,” you tell him. “I live there, actually.”

“I do too,” he responds. “Funny how we should run into each other here, of all places.”

You inhale shakily. You don’t know why. “If you hate it here so much, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at you, and you’re sure your heart stops. “I heard you talk to that other guy. I’m not here to have a conversation like that with you.”

You take another sip from your cocktail even though it makes your head spin. “What are you here for then?”

“That’s just another way of asking me what I’m doing here, angel eyes,” he points out. He does it so smoothly you almost don’t notice the diminutive.

You straighten your back, only now realizing you were leaning on the bar close to him. He mirrors you, then walks around the wood between you so he can stand directly next to you. “You tell me what you want to talk about then. After all, you approached me, you made me a drink, you wanted to whisk me off to Manhattan.”

“That was before I realized how worldly you are,” he says and his smile turns sly.

“Oh?” you make. You swallow. “Am I too difficult for you then?”

“I like a challenge.”

This is where you should stop. This is where you should thank him again for rescuing you, and for the drink, and where you should walk away to find your boyfriend, who surely has to be done with his meeting by now. But how can you step away when he’s still smiling at you as if he’s having the time of his life, when you felt drawn to him all evening, when having his eyes on you makes you feel truly seen? Yes, he isn’t exactly subtle in the way he flirts with you, but there is a kindness in his gaze you’ve never seen on another man before. And then he touches you, straightening the strap of your short, tight dress, and your whole body comes alive.

“You know smoking is bad for you, right?” is the only thing you can come up with, willing your voice to remain steady.

“I like things that are bad for me,” he replies.

It’s such a cheesy line, it makes you want to bury your face in your hands. But, god, does talking to him make you feel good.

“Ha!” He points at you. “That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen all evening.

“Call me ‘sweet’ again and you might see some more,” you retort. All you want to do is to tell him you don’t mind his harmless flirting, that whatever this is between you is fun, but it comes out heavy with implications. Implications you can’t take back because you don’t want to.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and you think you might die. “You’re very brave.” It’s a statement. “I saw you walk to the pool earlier in –”

“I know,” you interrupt him. “I saw you watching me.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “It made me want to kiss you.”

You freeze. There is nothing you can say that won’t end badly for you. “So you made me a drink instead?”

He plucks the cocktail stick out of your glass and holds it up to your mouth. You close your lips around the first cocktail cherry and pull it off slowly, your eyes fixed to his. It might just be the low lighting but you think his pupils dilate. He drops the stick back into the glass and takes a big swig of your drink, his eyes momentarily leaving yours. You do your best not to watch his throat as he swallows.

“You really are something,” he concludes, putting down the glass on the bar.

You feel lightheaded, as if you’d just made out with him for half an hour. “I’m also in a relationship.” The words are out before you can stop yourself. You didn’t mean to say them.

“I don’t give a damn.”

You giggle, actually giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush. “You sound like the hero in one of those ancient black-and-white movies.”

“Or maybe I’m the villain.”

This time you do bury your face in your hands. “Oh, stop it.”

“No,” he simply says, and you get it. You want to kiss him too.

Instead, you glance at the small gold wrist watch on your arm. “It’s late. I should –”

He interrupts you. “Don’t –,” but you don’t let him finish.

“Thank you for the drink. And thank you for making me laugh. You made this whole thing bearable.”

You don’t know if you should shake his hand or kiss his cheek so you don’t do any of it. You pat his arm, once, trying not to notice how it feels against your palm, then walk toward the stairs, your heart breaking with each step. If you were single, you wouldn’t have hesitated to sleep with this man. If you weren’t Piers’ girlfriend, he would never have looked your way. It’s better to end it here.

The quietness of your room engulfs you, just like the soothing coolness of the pool earlier. As soon as you close the door behind you and lean against it, you can breathe. Yes, you can still hear the sounds of the party, but they’re muffled. You can finally hear yourself think again and you exhale shakily. You almost made the biggest mistake of your life. The adrenaline rush you got from it makes you snicker.

Piers isn’t entirely faithful. He attends parties with strippers, he looks at other women, you know all that. But it doesn’t mean anything because at the end of the day he comes home to you. What you just did … it goes beyond everything Piers has ever done, and you wouldn’t have been able to look at yourself in the mirror if you had spent one more minute in the presence of that handsome stranger. Even if your flirting made you happier than Piers has in months.

There’s a knock at your door and you jump. Expecting Piers, you open it without a second thought. “I’ll be right …,” you start but forget every word in the English language when you come face to face with the stranger.

“Hello,” he says, and that handsome smile is back on his face, even if he keeps a careful distance. “You vanished so quickly it made me wonder … did I do something wrong?”

“What?” you ask because it’s the only word you can remember.

“I’ll go back downstairs if you don’t want me here,” he goes on, “just say the word.”

They never come up the stairs. Never. Who does he think he is? “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired.” You try to close the door in his face, but he steps closer, bracing a hand against the wooden doorframe. “Excuse me,” you say insistently.

“Can I come in?”

Into your room? “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” you reject him. You laugh, but it sounds insincere. “You should go back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “but you have to say it like you mean it.”

“Listen here,” you start in your best no-nonsense voice. He tightens his grip on the wood and you hear it creak, despite the noise downstairs. “I want you to …”

It’s no use. You don’t know who he is, you don’t even know his name, but you also know that if you don’t let yourself have this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

“You need to say the words, sweet –”

“I want you to kiss me.”

You both freeze. His mouth hangs open, still in the middle of forming the next word he wanted to say. You tense, well aware that you said something you can not take back.

The few seconds that pass feel like an eternity. Then he pushes himself past the doorframe into your room, into your personal space. You smell the heavy scent of cigar smoke on him, you smell leather and lavender and citrus. You see his smile that turns into something more determined the closer he gets to you. You notice the stubble on his cheek, the glint in his eyes, the small dark spot on the collar of his white shirt. You feel … you feel his body pressing against yours, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his breath on your face, and then everything is reduced to his lips on yours, your breaths mingling, his … his tongue coaxing you open, not gently but insistent, and you not hesitating to open yourself up for him.

It's as if you’re watching it all from above, you pushing him backward, him closing the door with a hard slam, the both of you pulling at each other while kissing and kissing and …

“Careful,” he chuckles when you bite down on his bottom lip. “You said kiss, not –”

“I don’t give a fuck what I said,” you interrupt him, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says and grabs your wrist.

You groan. “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “I’m not. You’re just … We’re doing this on my terms or not at all.”

Something throbs deep within your core.

He tightens his hold on you. “I’ve had all evening to think about this. To picture all the things I want to do to you.”

“It’s not going to be just kissing then?” you ask, relishing the chuckle you draw out of him.

“I knew I wouldn’t leave here tonight without feeling your pretty little cunt clench around me.”

It sounds like a line straight out of a porn movie. You should laugh, tell him to take you seriously. But all you can do is whimper at the thought of him sitting in his chair downstairs, talking to one of Piers’ associates or even Piers himself while thinking about being buried deep inside of you. Every other man would send you fleeing. Not him though.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Does it matter? Once I’m done with you, you’ll have forgotten your own name.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “Those are some big words,” you point out.

He lets go of your wrist, then bunches the fabric of your dress up in his hand until he can reach below the hem, his broad, warm hand landing on your naked skin, his ring digging into your soft flesh. You gasp.

“Do you really think I’d disappoint you?”

“No,” you say too quickly, too rashly.

He grabs your dress again. “How about you take this off for me?”

“No,” you repeat, biting the inside of your cheek so you don’t laugh at the look of shock on his face. Then you turn around. “I can’t really open the zipper without some assistance.”

He runs both his hands over your naked shoulders and down to the middle of your back. You expect him to take his time, but he yanks the zipper down so quickly you think you hear fabric tear. You almost don’t have enough time to slip out of the thin shoulder straps before he falls to his knees behind you, pulling the dress with him. His hands are on your butt cheeks now, massaging, grabbing you as if he’s set on memorizing every detail. He slips his thumb under the hem of your panties, dips the tip into the wetness there.

You gasp at the same time as he whispers, “Knew it.”

You pull him away from you and turn around, well aware you’re completely naked except for your panties. “Well, it’s hardly surprising,” you start, your voice airy, but then it dies down completely at the sight of him kneeling in front of you looking up at you with so much heat in his gaze you’re getting burned. How did you get here?

You want him to tease you back, but he only pulls you close, his hands clasping your hips insistently, and kisses your belly, right above the hem of your panties. Then he kisses your thighs and your sides, and your belly button, and then he pulls down your panties and buries his face in your wetness with a relieved sigh. Your hands shoot forward and grab his curls, dig into them, desperate for purchase, as your head swims from the overstimulation. You would like to focus on the feeling of his hair between your fingers. You would like to focus on his tongue swirling around your clit. You would like to focus on the growl he makes when you run your nails over his scalp.

You think you’re laughing. You think you say, “Does that still count as kissing?”

“Yes,” he mumbles against the soft skin of your thighs. His curls are already a mess, his face is flushed, but when he glances up at you, his eyes are bright with determination.

“I think you have to show me that definition of kissing someday,” you go on, glancing up at the ceiling. You can’t look at him directly, it feels too intimate.

“That’s enough talking,” he decides and licks a broad stripe across your drenched folds.

You tighten your grip on his curls in response because your legs start to quiver. You hope he doesn’t notice, but his fingers dig into your thighs to steady you. The edges of his ring are cutting into you almost painfully – you want more of it. His hair wrapped around your fingers you pull him closer into you and he moans against you … actually moans. You push away those thoughts that make you compare him to Piers, how Piers would never moan if he was between your legs, how Piers never eats you out. This isn’t about him – it’s about you.

There’s something in the way that stranger rolls and flicks his tongue that tells you he won’t make you wait for an orgasm. You want to hold on longer because you can’t bear the thought of this being over already, but there is something in the way he devours you that pushes you toward the edge at a rapid speed. You don’t even hear the sounds of the party anymore, the laughter, the music; it’s just him and his deep sighs and moans.

You’re almost embarrassed by how fast you come. One second you’re appreciating the way his tongue flicks your clit, the next you can barely stay upright when your whole body releases months and months of built-up tension. You quiver in his grip and he holds you close, licking and licking until you can’t take it anymore. You think you mumble, “Fuckfuckfuck,” but there is no way to be sure. All you know is that you just had one of the best orgasms of your life.

You laugh as if the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders. What else is there to do? “So this is doing things on your terms?” you ask.

He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You think you might explode at that sight. “No, that was for your benefit. The rest is going to be for mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at your bed that’s rumpled from you crying on it earlier. If he can make you feel like that with just his tongue, what will he be –

“No, sugar, not like that,” he tells you, immediately pulling your attention back to him.

Your throat is dry when you ask, “What then?”

He stands and cups your cheek, his hand pleasantly warm. You lean into the touch immediately. “Don’t be so impatient. Enjoy the moment for a while.”

“What moment …?” you start but you don’t get far. He claims your mouth in a searing kiss that makes you wish you had been paying more attention to what he was doing when he was eating you out. You kiss him back, slinging your arms around his neck, the soft fabric of his white shirt rubbing against your naked chest. He licks across your bottom lip until you open your mouth for him, and then he claims you like no one has before. You fear that if you start thinking about how you can taste yourself on him, you’ll go insane.

“You’re so easy to kiss,” he mumbles against your lips. You’re not quite sure how he means it, but your chest still expands at the compliment.

“And you’re very handsome,” you retort lamely.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about telling me all evening?”

“No,” you reply too slowly this time.

He kisses your temple, then brings his mouth right next to your ear. “I’ve been thinking about watching myself fuck you.”

He doesn’t give you time to process, takes you over to the vanity that stands opposite your bed, its mirror dull in the dim light of the room. Even when he places your hands on the table top, telling you to hold on, you still don’t think he’s serious. You look at yourself in the mirror, at the makeup smudges below your eyes, the birth mark on your throat that you hate, how your mouth hangs open in a way that looks so very unsexy. Behind you, that stranger you invited into your room, this man you know nothing about, is unbuttoning his expensive dress pants, his white shirt obscuring the view. What does he see in you that makes him want you like this?

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s holding himself now, but you can’t see his hand moving without turning around. And he didn’t tell you you’re allowed to look. Your palms begin to sweat against the wooden surface of the vanity, at the thought of him telling you what you are and aren’t allowed to do, at him praising you for doing well and punishing you if you don’t. You don’t recognize that side of yourself.

His eyes are open again and he searches for yours in the mirror. “I asked you a question.”

You swallow hard. “No, I don’t,” you say, fighting down a giggle. It’s nerves.

“I’d better show you then,” he concludes, and he pushes inside of you with one hard stroke, filling you faster than you can spread your legs.

You both take a moment to breathe. He adjusts himself, you try to get used to the angle, the feeling of fullness. You haven’t seen his hard cock, but you know he’s more than Piers, so much more the stretch is almost uncomfortable. The wood beneath your fingers starts to swim when your vision blurs and –

“No, none of that.” He grips your chin and lifts your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “I’ve also been thinking about you watching me fuck you.”

His hand looks so big holding your face like that, and when you swallow again, he can feel it against his fingers.

His own face is right there next to yours, his eyes firmly fixed to yours through the glass. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you can take it.”

Before you can think of anything to say, he pulls out of you and thrusts back in in a tentative motion that is enough for your eyes to flutter shut in pleasure.

“No, no, no,” he whispers into your ear. “Keep them open.”

You do as you’re told and he rewards you with a sharp bite to the spot where your neck meets your shoulders. Your hips thrust back of their own accord, meeting his in a quick snap.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he mumbles against your skin.

You hadn’t even realized you were making any, too transfixed by watching him move behind you. Whenever your gaze wavers and flutters to your own face, embarrassment sends adrenaline shooting through your body. But he … watching his shoulders and arms tense and relax beneath his shirt that looks all too tight now, watching him meet your gaze, eyes full of lust … you don’t know why you would fuck anyone any other way than this.

He straightens his back, changing the angle slightly, and now you do hear yourself groan. He grabs your chin tighter and pushes two fingers into your mouth. “You know,” he says, and his hips snap with more force, faster, making the vanity rattle beneath your hands, “if you were mine, I’d let no man touch you. I would’ve broken his arm.”

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what he means; you’re too busy relishing the taste of his skin on your tongue. There must have been a man who touched you … when you were coming down the stairs … You can see it all clearly now. He would grab that man’s arm, calm and collected, twist it, make him shout in surprise … you can almost hear the bones snap.

“Oh, look at that,” he groans, and you do. You look at yourself in the mirror, unashamed, eyes wide. You watch how you eagerly suck and lick his fingers, watch it as if another person was doing it. You’re trembling in his grip … or is he making everything shake with his thrusts that are coming faster and faster now as he fucks you, taking what he needs? “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You almost don’t hear him, too transfixed by how depraved he’s making you feel. “You’d get off on that, a good man protecting you. Shame I’m not good, really.”

You don’t care. You’re done with those men who act politely, who treat you with care when they know Piers is around, but who talk about you taking it up the ass when your back is turned. You’d much rather have this, a man who isn’t scared to say these things to your face. Even if he thinks he isn’t all good, he still protected you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you whimper at the loss, watching how a thread of spit connecting his digits to your lips breaks. With his other hand, he suddenly grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipple with practiced ease, and you arch your back with a moan, exposing your throat to him. His fingers close around it, hard, restricting the airflow, his ring pressing against one of the most vulnerable spots of your body in a way that doesn’t leave any room for doubt – you’re doing this on his terms.

He tightens his grip on your throat until you start seeing stars, the loosens it. “I’m going to make you come now. I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what you look like coming around my cock.”

If you could, you would nod, but he isn’t looking for your consent. He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger one last time, then lowers his hand to find your clit. When he touches you, you make a sound like never before, one that’s feral and animalistic and can’t possibly be coming from you.

He shushes you, his breath tickling your neck. “You don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You don’t? You have no idea. You can’t form a single coherent thought as he pounds into you, making sure you’ll be able to feel him long after he’s done with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your voice is breathless after that scream, hoarse and raw. Your gaze flickers to his fingers curled tightly around your neck.

“Keep your eyes on yourself, baby girl,” he orders.

Baby girl.

That’s what does it. You watch your eyes widen and your mouth fall open as your body shakes first from his thrusts and then from wave after wave of pleasure. He was right. You love this. You love watching yourself come while he forces you to watch yourself, love to watch your orgasm play out across your face. He’s watching you too, licking his lips hungrily, never faltering. But you can see it in his eyes, the way he’s memorizing every detail of your orgasm.

“Well done,” he says once you’re done and moves your chin so he can kiss your lips.

Then he suddenly pushes you down so your chest connects with the table top. You grunt in surprise, then in pain when he rolls your head to the side so you can still somewhat glimpse his reflection above you.

“My turn,” he growls.

His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes are firmly fixed on his own reflection, and he holds you down with such a strong grip you can’t move, but also in a way that’s so casual it makes you feel like he’s using you. Your heart stutters with longing so intense at that thought that the feeling spreads to the rest of your body and becomes so intense he feels it in his own. At least you think that is what’s going on when he smiles down on you.

The position you’re in and the tenderness between your legs steadily turns from pleasurable to uncomfortable to simply too much. But he doesn’t finish. He keeps going and going, not as fast as before, seemingly transfixed by what you’re doing. You reach back for him and he grabs your wrist and pins it to the small of your back.

“Please,” you whimper, and it makes his intense gaze falter for just one second.

“Almost there, baby girl,” he replies, “you’re doing so well. Just keep taking it a little while longer.” You think you could bear anything if he just kept talking to you like that.

Then suddenly it’s over. There is one last thrust that pushes you onto the tips of your toes and then he stills. The only movement comes from his hips that are twitching as he empties himself inside of you. You don’t even dare to breathe, watching as his reflection slowly relaxes and he closes his eyes for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you try to stand, but he pushes you back down again. “Stay. We’re not done yet.”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, but your mind is blank, unable to imagine what else he could have in store for you. You don’t feel anything at first, you just hear him moan, and then you realize he’s kneeling behind you, cleaning you up with his tongue, eagerly licking his own release off your skin. It makes you feel so lewd you forget about everything, even Piers. Especially when he doesn’t stop at your thighs but moves further and further up your legs until his tongue and nose are buried in your folds once more and he’s spreading you open with his big hands.

You can’t help it.

“Fuck, fu- I- I’m gonna –”

There’s no time for you to finish the warning before you’re coming a third time, your hips desperately twitching against the vanity. He licks you through it, catching every last drop you’re giving him on his tongue. You can’t tell for sure but you think he’s chuckling and for some reason the shame you feel turns you on even more.

When it’s all over, he peels you off the vanity and pulls you into his arms, brushing your hair out of your face that is sticky with sweat. “You sure are a greedy little thing,” he says before he kisses you tenderly.

You swallow a sob and give him a sigh instead.

“Half the people downstairs probably heard us.” There’s a big grin on his face at that thought.

“I don’t give a fuck,” you repeat your earlier sentiment, surprised to discover that it’s true.

“Someone wants to get caught,” he teases and kisses you again.

“What I want is for you to fuck me like that again.”

“Oh, baby girl.” You almost hate how he’s already figured out what hearing him call you that does to you. “There are a million more things I want to do with you. This was just a taste.”

You’re not sure if you can believe him, but you decide to indulge that fantasy. You put on your sweetest smile. “Can’t wait.”

He lets go of you and walks toward your door. “Why don’t you give me a call once you’re back in Manhattan.”

A red warning light switches on somewhere in your brain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

“Something tells me you’ll find out.” And with that, he’s gone.

#materialists fanfiction #materialists #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #is this anything?#quicksand

364 notes · View notes

ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 3 months ago

Text

ALL THE BETTER

KINKTOBER DAY 2 - RED RIDING HOOD AU WITH EMMETT

Pairing - Emmett x fem!reader

Summary - You must deal with the consequences after leading the wolf into your grandmother’s cottage

Warnings - non con, dubcon, character death, fingering, handjob, p in v, marking, rutting, werewolf.

Word count - 3.1k

Notes - Set in the 1700s. Doesn't Emmett just give off big bad wolf vibes to you? Was suppose to be a very very long story, but couldn’t find the inspiration to finish it in time so i sliced it lol. Not my best work, was really hard to do but oh well it’s kinktober.

It was all your fault. These consequences were due to your naive actions over the past few weeks of knowing this man, this beast. Emmett was kind, gentle, charming and rugged to the ignorant eye. It was so easy for him to fool you. The fateful crossing of paths through the woods may not have been as accidental as you believed. You’d invited the traveler into your grandma’s cottage, given him a place to rest which turned into a new residence for him. All he practically had to do was chop the firewood to keep the cottage warm at night. Together, you both assisted your aging grandma and her declining health.

Emmett was captivating to your innocent eyes. His beard was as thick as badger fur, it turned gray around the bottom of his jaw. The dark brunette strands of hair parted towards his right. He spoke almost in hush tones a lot, but his tone was deep and masculine. He was a tad shorter than the average man in your village. But his alluring blue eyes caught your attention from the beginning, they were gentle and almost sparkled.

A wolf in disguise indeed. Every stare he had given you, was not genuine but sinister. The nights you’d wake up to a figure in the shadows, it was always him, not a dream. The internal need for him to help you, protect you, watch over you constantly would be your ruining. You had let touch you, hold you, kiss you. The beast had tricked you into loving him, to the point where he almost corrupted you.

The night before, shortly after you had shut down his animalistic urges to deflower you, he left in a frustrated manner. Emmett’s chest heaved like a wild creature and grumbles sounded like growls. You tried to stay awake for him, but the late hours of the night grew heavy on your eyes. Until later, he abruptly stumbled into the cottage, in complete agony. His firm body was only covered in sweat and blood as he cried out. A bullet wound in his bare left thigh.

There was no time or thought to question anything, his naked state went unfocused as you were forced to pull the bullet out of him. It took an eternity to draw it out. The silver bullet shined as you washed the blood off of it. He had gone for a swim in the lake, as he claimed, on this freezing night teasing the upcoming winter season. They must have been hunters and mistaken him for an animal. That or they were monsters playing twisted games. Emmett seemed so determined and angered on the matter that you wouldn’t dare to have another opinion. You were like a fish with how easily you bit the bait.

The morning of, Emmett’s face was covered in sweat, eyes flashing red as he whined in despair. He needed a doctor, medicine, anything better than your amending. Even though he was heavily opposed to it, you hurried through the woods in your red cloak. Your grandma assumed she’d take care of him until you’d return.

The clouds rumbled over you, you could smell the rain brew in the sky. But immediately as you entered the village, a townsman warned you, “beware miss! A werewolf is lurking in the woods!”

“A werewolf?” you gasped, fear flashing over your eyes.

“Yes, they shot it in its leg last night, but the beast got away” he huffed out in annoyance.

“Shot it… with what?” you dared to ask.

Your heart pounded against your bones, blood streamed through your veins as you found it hard to breathe. Time seemed to slow down, you felt the man stare you dead in the eye.

“A silver bullet” he answered blankly.

The words dragged out through your mind, you gasped silently as a million thoughts ran through your mind. The instant thought was to cry wolf, but the words were too risky to claim. You had left your grandmother with the beast, you needed to save her, a village of hunters would do no such thing, she was currently a lamb awaiting the slaughter.

You had raced all the way back from the village, the rain spitting onto your skin. Your breathing was heavy, filled with distraught and angst. The forest was shaking around you, you heard a school of birds flatter around you, the dark clouds began to clash with one another. You screamed out in pain, your legs were starting to feel like jelly, but you couldn’t stop now.

As you ran through the door, your adrenaline charged through, but you froze in your footsteps. The floor had a trail of red, your body trembled as you called out her name. But there was pure silence in the cottage. The door was rested over, you dared to push it open.

Throughout the chaos of it all, the walls were painted red, the room stenched of copper, pieces of your grandma splattered across the room, the walls were clawed into, furniture ripped apart. You wailed out, eyes shot in every direction before you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Grandma!” you shrieked, your eyes pouring out hot tears as you shuddered.

Time froze.

No, no, this was all a horrible nightmare, you needed to wake up. These thoughts of yours were crazy, there was no possibility, werewolves haven’t wandered these woods in decades years.

But as you stood frozen for longer, the more it made sense. The more the fear dawned over you, you had led a werewolf into your grandma’s home, and left her alone with the beast.

Your body felt completely numb, your mind raced with every negative emotion daggering into you repetitively. You stumbled out of the room and shrieked when you bumped into a firm figure behind you, your body flung around.

It took you a moment to even realize his appearance. His hairy chest could have almost been mistaken for a shirt through your blurred vision. However, it was the large member that hung freely that switched the gears on in the inside of your head. Emmett stood completely naked in front of you, shamelessly at the matter, however his expression was full of despair and guilt. The limp in his leg was gone, the wound vanished. His skin had marks of blood everywhere.

“I’m sorry… I- I didn’t mean to… I really tried not to! I didn’t want to hurt her” Emmett stuttered out, his mind completely blurred with a range of emotions as if he was in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Emmett” you choked out, noticing the trickle of blood over his lips.

“I couldn’t control myself… She was dying sweetheart, it was a mercy kill! I needed to feed in order to heal” Emmett poorly explained, he gripped onto the slither of hope that you’d understate.

It was true, she was dying. He could smell the blood from her handkerchief and hear it in her hoarse voice. But you were too naive to look with your open eyes. The smell was sickening, the killing a thousand times worse. But Emmett was desperate, he was dancing with death laying in that bed.

Everything was bewildering your timid mind, your heart pounded against your chest, your throat closed up, you couldn’t breathe. Your blurred vision was darting between Emmett and the massacre on your grandma’s bed. When he took a step closer to you, you leaped back instinctively.

“Emmett, you’re scaring me!” you shrieked.

The tone of your dismay ached at Emmett’s heart, he blinked hard, hoping that it would help relieve his tormented thoughts. With his hands raised up in surrender, he continued to slowly step towards you, your hands felt around the walls and pieces of furniture around you, too afraid that if you looked away from him, he’d pounce at the opportunity.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll never hurt you” Emmett promised, his voice stern and determined. His jaw locked as he watched your fingertips search for a weapon.

As your hand wrapped around a candle stick, Emmett snarled and pounced at you, you yelped and swung the metal object at him. It hit his shoulder but did no damage, his large hand smacked the object to the ground, Emmett effortlessly pinned you against the wall. Your body thrashed, squirmed and turned under his grip, his nostrils flared in annoyance. When Emmett brought his lips closer to yours, you bit the air in warning.

“Get off of me!” you screamed, but your tone was weak and broken.

“Calm down little one!” Emmett tutted harshly.

His hand wrapped underneath your jaw as he pointed your chin towards him, you whimpered out as the tightness. His blue eyes were narrowed, he looked down at you as if you were a child mid tantrum over nothing.

“Get off me! You’re a disgusting monster!” you screamed, tears coated your red cheeks.

Emmett scoffed at your words, his mouth pressed to your ear, the wetness of his beard made you cringe and gag slightly. Emmett’s body shivered lightly as he inhaled your scent. His animalistic urges crawled their way out, despite how badly he tried to keep it all chained up.

“Don’t blame me! You said it yourself, she was stubborn to the bone. If she had any common sense she’d listen to you and be healthy and alive!” Emmett insulted, his words hissing like a boiled kettle.

You whined out, but it was pointless, his hold held you down like iron. The pounding sound of your racing heartbeat ran down his ear drums. It made him feel pity towards you, his stern expression softened. The way he pressed his lips to your sweating forehead was sweet, but you didn’t see it that way.

“Don’t worry… It was quick, she didn’t even have a second to scream” Emmett comforted, his breathing rugged, a weak smile on his lips.

You blubbered out, his words hurt you. This wasn’t real, this felt impossible. How could you be so naive, you helped the enemy, you killed your grandmother.

Emmett’s slippery tongue ran up your cheek, he moaned at the taste of your tears. You squirmed every time he kissed or licked your flustered skin, but he ignored your protesting behavior. His rough hands slowly dropped to your waist, he squeezed the skin around your hips.

“Your scent has been torturing me for weeks before we met. I’ve traveled so far for you, my heart longs for you little one…” Emmett admitted proudly, his lips gently kissed yours.

“W-what?” you whimpered out, complete utter shock painted on you.

Emmett had known you were his before he met you. One evening, your scent lingered in his senses, he couldn’t block out the aura even if he wanted to. That night, he packed a small gathering of belongings and searched for you. He had many sleepless nights, agonizing moments of craving you underneath him. When he stumbled upon your grandma’s cottage, he knew he was close. So, so close to you. He waited nearby for days for you to come to him.

Other werewolves would rut their mate on the spot and drag them back home if need be. But Emmett was different, he wanted to do this right, wanted your love to grow and not be forced down your throat. It took a lot of restraint, but Emmett was certain on making you fall for him.

“You’re mine now” Emmett flared his teeth. “Don’t be upset, it’ll turn out all the better for us” he assured, his rough hand felt soft against your skin.

Without another second to spare, Emmett crashed his lips back onto yours, his tongue darted out and slipped inside your mouth. Your body turned stiff as he practically ate your mouth, his teeth nibbled on your skin whilst his hands ran up and down your curves. He untied your cloak and let it slip to the ground.

“I need you so badly, please?” Emmett almost whimpered pathetically, his eyes two massive pools of desire and need.

You mewled out, lips wobbling and skin trembling, you knew what he meant. Not to mention his throbbing length that poked against your thigh teased you. You dared to look down at it, you squeaked and squeezed your eyes shut. Emmett sighed dramatically and stroked himself.

“Hey, it’s alright. It won’t bite you, here look” Emmett comforted before he tugged your hand to his hairy length.

You gasped out as your fingers wrapped around his thick size, your eyes snapped onto him, glossy with tears. Emmett smiled at you softly, reassuringly. Slowly, he guided your hand to stroke him, all while his free hand scrunched your dress up.

The way his hand rubbed over your cunt underneath your panties made your stomach turn. Emmett’s eyes rolled back at the glistering sensation of your pussy. So fucking wet for him, you needed him just as badly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together in defense, but his fingers quickly pushed into your tight entrance.

“Oww” you hissed.

“It’s okay little one, only hurts temporarily” Emmett assured through a huff.

Reactively, you squeezed his shaft, resulting in Emmett groaning in pleasure. Before you knew it, Emmett stripped you bare, shredding the fabric to pieces. you whimpered and trembled before him, but dared not to poke the wolf. Emmett grumbled out, the animal inside of him demanded to pounce on top of you, to devour you like a lamb. But he needed to be careful, you were timid, you deserved to be treated with care.

Your arms covered your privates, Emmett slowly closed the distance and repositioned your arms to your sides. As he tilted your chin up, you blinked slowly, your tears spilled out. One hand caressed your breasts, his fingertips rolled over your hardened nipples whilst the other returned to your dripping core. You shivered against him as he played with your sensitive nerves. Your body betrayed you, it felt good, too good. The sparks of pain would be splashed away with a bucket of pleasure. Almost naturally, your body curved against his as his beard tickled your face.

Quickly, you're taken down to the wooden ground, Emmett straddled you as he kissed you gently. He took your breasts into his large rough hands as he wriggled his hips against yours. It went unsaid with Emmett lining his cock up with your entrance, you gulped as his tip teased your entrance.

Emmett kissed you passionately as he thrusted his hips towards yours. You yelped against him, your arms latched around his firm back as his cock pushed its way forcefully inside of you. Emmett heaved out, his shaft halfway in as you clenched his size still. Your words came out jumbled, you just wanted him to stop, but he still tried to inch himself in further at every moment. To comfort you, Emmett rubbed your flustered cheeks.

“Breathe little one, I’m not going to rip you in half” Emmett chuckled whilst lifting your hips up into the air.

You whined out, but listened to his command, your breathing was rough at first, but gradually grew more softer. Following after you, Emmett pushed himself in further, his hands kept your hips up as he kissed you in praise. His hips snapped in and out, his balls smacked against your sensitive skin. With every thrust, Emmett reached your sweet spot, you moaned out unwillingly. His tip teased you, you felt your abdominal tighten, your eyes fluttered back at the rapidly growing bundle of pleasure.

“Doing so good little one” Emmett praised, his beard prickling your chin.

As you looked him in the eyes, your heart betrayed you. He was still so beautiful. His features were soft and warming, you felt your heart flutter for a quick second. An inner belief that he’d always protect you flashed before your eyes. Your hand raised to his cheek, even though you trembled, you attempted to caress his skin. But the remembrance of everything fell back into place and your hand retreated. Emmett huffed out, most likely in annoyance. His lips latched onto your neck as he pistoned into you.

Shortly after, you felt your eyes roll backwards. Unexpectedly on your behalf, your orgasm crashed over you. Your velvet walls squeezed onto Emmett’s cock for dear life, Emmett grunted out, his eyes twitched as he felt his member beg for release. Your sweet piercing moans were angelic. His breathing grew heavier, eyes turned a shade darker, his forearms rested besides your head as he continued to ram into you.

He could feel his shaft pulsate, demanding to claim you completely. It felt like the need for oxygen, if Emmett didn’t mark you as his now, he’d think he would die.

“Fuck, I need, I need to rut in you sweetheart, I can’t help myself, I need to mark you as mine” Emmett admitted, his words stiff as he was so distracted with fucking you senselessly.

“What do you mean?” you cried out, unable to catch your breath.

But Emmett ignored you, he nibbled your soft skin. Really, Emmett should be grabbing something or anything to soften your body, oh fuck it, you can just lay on his chest. Swiftly, Emmett flipped you over, his cock buried completely inside of you. You mewled out at the throbbing sensation in your slippery walls.

“Emmett! What are you-”

Now, your parents never went over the details on when a woman marries her husband, however this didn’t feel normal. His cock was expanding inside of you, you cried out, it felt like pure agony. This was supernatural, you were certain it would be the death of you. You body fell limp on him as his shaft almost doubled in size. Even though you were gasping in pain, Emmett was exhaling in sexual relief. His hands brushed your hair whilst he laid comfortably onto the wooden planks. Your face pressed besides his as you heaved out. The entirety of your lower body was on fire, every inch you moved felt torturous.

A wave of possessiveness and ownership crashed over Emmett. “You’re mine, alright?” Emmett spoke firmly, his head tilted towards yours. You laid silently, sight pointed away from him. So he repositioned your head for you to look him in. the eye. “Don’t try to run from me… I’ll fucking rip apart anyone who gets in my way” he threatened before returning to his comforting nature by caressing your bare skin.

Your body shivered, he saw your red cloak and reached over for it. The fabric covered your body as Emmett held you tightly and fell into a bliss of relaxation.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #smut #cillian murphy kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #werewolf #blood #emmett a quiet place #emmett x you #emmett x reader #a quiet place part ii

176 notes · View notes

thunder-opossum · 4 months ago

Text

Time has come for a pinned post, sigh ...

Online status: Not gone fishing 🎣

Hello!!!

I am thunder-opossum, call me what you like as li g a sit makes sense!

My preferred pronouns are she/her but I also like they/them or even he/him, mess around with it if you'd like! It makes life a bit more exciting! Note: feeling more masc as of lately

I am a MINOR. I shouldn't have to elaborate on what that means. I have the standard DNI list, but I would also like to mention please don't joke about/ talk about alcohol, drugs, smoking, vaping, substance abuse, or anything under similar categories. You can interact with me if that is your kind of thing, but please don't mention it around me.

Otherwise feel free to message me and chat, I'm a flighty person and get quickly exhausted talking to people; so please excuse any rudeness on my part, I'm working on it.

I am also a slow typer and appreciate tone indicators.

About me!

I am a self taught artist, I've been doing digital art since I was 11! The program I use is ibispaintx premium version with a stylus.

I am in school, so I can't post as frequently as possible.

My other hobbies include writing, hanging out with animals, fishing, talking to myself, yapping.

I'm exploring the idea of identifying as therian. I like to connect myself to animal behavior in a way. I like imagining myself with a tail and ears. It's a guide for me to explain myself. Something to ground me in reality. Refer to me as an opposum if you wouldn't mind. I find it funny. This creature just represents me.

My tags!!!!

Most are self explanatory, I'll just put the highlights in.

#my art - self explanatory, check this tag out for every single piece of art I've posted.

#thunder's rumbles - rants on my life or my characters

#txt post - posts containing only text

#asks -any ask that has been answered

#thunder fishes - a tag about fishing

#opossum posting - creature mode

#🌲 - something I want to look back at when I need some happy thoughts

I use cw's and tw's but mostly the former. I do occasionally post, or talk about my mental health. I usually tag those though.

#my ocs - trying to use this for gift art I've received now

#rw sizzling waters - an au I'm making that is gaining traction!

Art Permissions!

You can use my art as long as you provide clear credit to me and do not claim it or use it for ai.

You can use my designs of pre-existing characters but not ocs.

My current interest: Rain World

Some random things I occasionally remember I love (could be used as a conversation starter):

Manned wolves, river formations, little big planet, glass animals, modest mouse, my common yt rabbit holes, weather phenomenons, worms on a string, dachshund, and so much more.

Cool things credit: teeth dividers

Thanks for visiting!

#pinned post #my art #thunder's rumbles

82 notes · View notes

spacesodaa · 9 months ago

Note

I stumbled across your albedo avalanche fic and fell in love with your writing! I saw your requests were open and wondered if you would be happy to write one with aventurine and afab reader with a shot of angst? Perhaps they are working together and his love gets hurt?

Thank you so much for your works, BTW! ❤️❤️

Aww tysm!! I really appreciate you liked my writing 🥹 I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you like this as much as I do!

Aventurine x Reader - Back To You

Characters: Aventurine, Reader (afab)

Summary: Aventurine makes a risky move during a trade with some bandits and you get hurt in the process.

Warnings: blood, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: not proofread lmao

Aventurine watched in horror as you dove in front of him, catching the dart in his stead. He had calculated that provoking his possible business partners coult result in violence, but apparently he was horrible at math because never in a million years would he have expected you to take the shot for him. Not because he didn't think you would be apathetic to dire situations, but because he didn't think he was worth the trouble.

That was a reoccurring theme in your relationship, you have always had to remind him he was worth every effort you put in, even though his convictions were hard to break.

Aventurine deftly caught you before you could hit the rocky floor of the cave. It had been a risky move to meet the group of men in an isolated place like this, but again he had failed to take into account you had insisted to go with him and it wouldn't have been just his sorry ass to end in trouble.

The men grinned at him, seemingly satisfied with the result of their actions.

"This serves as your warning. You better lower your head sigonian trash" one of them said, before they all turned their backs on him and exited the cave. Another one of the men stopped right in front of the entrance and flashed him a toothy smile, waving. He pressed a button, causing a large rumble to erupt from right above the entrance. A cascade of rocks descended loudly, blocking the only exit.

Aventurine sat there stunned. It was clear to him now, that their intent was never really to negotiate, but to hurt him. Either directly or indirectly. If only he had insisted to go alone, you wouldn't have been in his arms progressively going limp. Only god knew what the hell was in the dart you had been shot with, so he quickly pulled it out from your belly, leaving an unhealthy purplish entry wound.

He shifted you in his grip and lowered to the ground with you. He sincerely hoped his phone would work in such a remote place. He fished it from his pocket, quickly typing the password, only to realize the rocks blocked whatever flimsy signal could reach this remote place. There were in fact, no bars in the signal indicator.

"Damn it" he muttered.

"Kakavasha..." He almost jumped out of his own skin at the sound of your voice. Aventurine brought you closer to his chest, your forehead burned against the exposed skin of his neck.

"Yes?" He hesitantly answered.

"It's not your fault" always straight to the point you were, piercing through the ungodly amount of walls he had built and reading past the facade.

"You shouldn't have jumped in front of me" Aventurine replied "what if that was a real gun and not a dart one?"

"And let you...get poisoned...?" Your words were starting to get lower, your gaze struggling to focus on anything.

"Yes! I provoked them! I miscalculated everything!" You could feel his hands shake as he held you.

"So...you must...pay the price...yeah no" you smiled bitterly, although your lips felt numb.

"It should have been my life in the gamble, not yours" he said in a defeated tone "I don't deserve you throwing yours away for me" the last part was muttered, but you heard it nonetheless.

"But you do...and the choice...is mine" you tried to say it as determined as you could muster. If the world was going to shit you would throw it away to save him in a matter of seconds. No questions asked.

The blonde man couldn't utter another word, just as you couldn't convince him to have some self worth, he couldn't convince you to give up on him. You were ride or die and he couldn't change that, maybe that was for the best. You had enough love to love him for himself too.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life, as if it could cure you and you could keep rising next to him in the morning. What would he do if he lost you? He would lose everything once again, because as much as he didn't want to admit it to others, you were his everything.

He was scared, terrified you would draw your last breath any minute now. You didn't seem to be in pain, but you did look miserable. Your breaths were shallow and your skin was burning and covered in sweat as your body shook slightly.

Aventurine could only hope someone would notice you were gone - who would even notice a sigonian was missing? Maybe Topaz? - and come looking for you. At least he had had the good sense to leave your meeting location with Topaz.

He waited and waited, watching you slip away as the time passed. You had long lost consciousness and he could barely feel your shallow breaths against his neck.

"Please don't go..." He pleaded, eyes burning.

Your body felt numb, with a weird fuzziness in the background. It was similar to those old cathodic tube screens when no signal was available. A new type of 'annoying' you wished you hadn't learned existed.

With a bit of effort you managed to open your eyes and you were met with an unfamiliar room, dimly lit. It had white walls and some cabinets against the wall in front of you. To your left was a window with blinds obscured but you could see some light spill through the cracks. On the same side, right next to the bed were an IV bag (that you quickly realized was stuck in your arm) and a bunch of monitors beeping along with your heartbeat. Finally your eyes landed to your right, where Aventurine sat on a chair. He was leaning on the mattress of the bed you were on, head on his arms, hair completely disheveled shooting in every direction. Contrary to what one would expect from being in such a position, he was fast asleep. Even when you scooted a bit to sit up he didn't move an inch, which would have been normal if you were to be at home, but the room liked like one from a private hospital. To be this heavily asleep he must have been exhausted.

You reached your hand and gently smoothed over the rebellious locks, before switching to bushing your fingers through them as delicately as you could as to not wake him.

This was a rare sight, making you equal parts upset that you had caused it and in awe at the display of vulnerability. Most of the time he was wide awake before you so this was one of the few times you were able to watch him sleep.

The door opened slowly, revealing Topaz poking her head in. You smiled, waved at her followed by a quick gesture to keep quiet then pointing to your sleeping boyfriend.

She nodded and fully entered the room, closing the door behind her right after.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered once she was standing at your left, eyeing curiously Aventurine.

"Weird. Fuzzy?" You attempted, keeping your voice low. Which wasn't that hard because your throat was dry as hell so you couldn't talk as loud even if you tried.

"Yeah, we were told to expect something like this. The poison they used on you progressively numbs the body. We were lucky you were still breathing when I finally got to you two" she explained.

"I remember the dart. What happened after?" You asked, still petting Aventurine's hair.

"I don't know the details, but I found you two stuck in a cave and Aventurine was clutching onto you for dear life" Topaz said "I don't think I've ever seen him that terrified.

You frowned, knowing what you did, it was not hard to deduce his line of thought. He had lost so much and he had almost lost you.

If you hadn't jumped in front of him, it would have been him in your conditions and you couldn't bear the thought of that either.

"What did you guys end up doing with those 'clients'?"

"You mean the ones you two were meeting?" You hummed in response "I have no idea, Aven dealt with them a few days ago"

"Wait- a few days ago? How long have I been aslep??"

"About a week. I have never seen him leave this room more than a few minutes" she pointed to the man, who was still blissfully unaware. No wonder he was sleeping like a log.

Suddenly her phone started ringing and both of you cringed at the loud sound. Topaz quickly answered it and bolted out of the room.

The loud ringtone seemed to have been enough to disturb your boyfriend's sleep, as he let out a raspy groan in protest. You brushed his bangs away from his face and that got his attention. His head shot up, meeting your soft gaze and endearing smile.

"Y/n?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Yes baby, I came back to you" he barely let you finish speaking before he bolted out of the chair to engulf you into an emotionally charged hug, a hand behind your shoulders and the other buried in your hair at the base of your neck.

"...I thought I had lost you for good" he muttered shakily "you wouldn't wake up..."

"I'm sorry to have worried you so much" you frowned, the conflictint feelings coming back full force.

"But you're going to do it again, aren't you?" He said it in a tone that was half amused and half utterly exasperated.

"Without a second thought. As much as you refuse to believe it, to me you're the world" you replied, gently prying him away from you to look at his face. You cupped his cheeks and watched intently as if you were trying to commit every detail to memory. Aventurine was simply lost in your eyes as you did, thinking of how a few hours ago he had thought he would never see them again.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, which he welcomed readily.

"Baby, you are so pale" you said, worried.

"Am I?" He cocked his head slightly "I haven't slept a wink aside from before" he chuckled, but it sounded tired. Now that he knew you were going to be okay the exhaustion was starting to take over once again.

"Why don't you cuddle with me? You can sleep and hold onto me, I won't go anywere" you smiled softly at him as you pulled him down onto the mattress with you. It didn't really take that much coaxing and soon he had his face buried into your plump chest as he held you from your middle.

"I love you" he muttered before falling asleep.

"I love you too"

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr oneshot #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr angst

233 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

Text

Making Arrangements Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 7.9K

Notes: Hey look it's part two! This is the end of the fic!

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; mention of Reader's mother passing away, though it doesn't say how; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; possessive Tommy; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, unsafe sex

Summary: Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“You look impressed.” You noted it to him with pride. Thomas’ gaze swept around the hotel room as he pressed a tip into the bellboy’s hand. The young man dipped a courteous nod before hurrying out, shutting the suite door behind himself.

“You chose well,” Tommy conceded. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away to hide your proud smile. When Tommy had asked you to make arrangements for your trip, you’d been certain it was a test. It seemed like you’d passed, at least. The interior was opulent, with rich shades of red and tawny across the furnishings.

“There’s a balcony,” You nodded him toward it as you headed for the doors. You opened them, stepping out and peering over the hotel’s small courtyard. You heard Thomas come up behind you, felt his hand rest on your lower back as he set the other on the banister.

“It’ll be nice to be able to get some air without all of the street noise,” You added. Why were you so chatty now? It was hardly the first time you’d been alone with him.

Maybe it was the fact that Tommy had trusted you with this in the first place. Maybe it was how close he’d stuck to you on the car ride down, urging you to sit closer so that he could hear you properly over the rumbling of the road beneath his tires. Maybe it was the fact that, unless something else prevailed, you were going to share a bed with your husband for the first time that evening.

You glanced back toward Tommy and found him eyeing the courtyard below. You cleared your throat, looking over your shoulder and nodding inside.

“Do you like it?”

He turned to you, a small, patient smile on his lips.

“Yes,” He reassured, his thumb sweeping gently over your lower back. “I like it.”

You nodded, relieved, and turned back to the courtroom.

“What time is your meeting?”

“Six o’clock.”

“What time do you want me ready to go?”

“Five thirty should work well enough.”

You reached out, fishing into Tommy’s jacket for his timepiece. You ignored his heavy, curious look as you eyed the face. You had a couple of hours between now and then.

“Alright,” You shrugged, tucking the watch back where it belonged before you turned, heading into the room. It was another moment before Tommy followed you back inside.

“What’ll you wear?” He asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where we’re going and who we’re meeting.” You crouched by your suitcase, casting Thomas a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t told me.”

He hummed, drifting closer and leaning against the bed frame.

“We're meeting Jay Miller.”

You frowned. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. He waited patiently as you wracked your mind. Jay Miller. Jay Miller…

Your mind flashed with a face that you used to know well—a warm smile, a lopsided grin, the flutter of dark lashes as you took him between your lips—

You turned away from Thomas, your face going hot.

“I didn’t know that you knew Jacob,” You said crisply.

“It’s a young acquaintance. Lewis made introductions.”

And you would have to thank your brother for that—perhaps with a smack upside of his head. What the devil was he thinking, introducing your husband to your former beau?

“How fortuitous.” You straightened from your suitcase, looking down at its contents. Jay Miller. Lord above. You hadn’t seen the man in years. Maybe he wouldn’t remember you? Maybe he wouldn’t dare say a thing in front of Tommy. Maybe Tommy didn’t even know—

“That one.”

Your mind quieted as Tommy stepped up beside you, pointing into the suitcase. Your brow furrowed as you followed his direction, crouching down to pluck up a purple beaded dress.

“Why this one?” You asked, turning the fabric over in your hands.

“I’ve never seen you in it.”

“You haven’t seen me in most of the things I’ve packed,” You pointed out. Tommy hummed, pressing tightly up against your back, making your stomach turn somersaults.

“Then this’ll be a good place to start,” He insisted.

“And you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“We're having dinner at the Granville Hotel."

You drew in a shaky breath as he stepped away again, reahing into his pocket for his cigarette case as he headed back toward the balcony. You'd wear your purple dress to the Granville Hotel. Fine. You looked down at the dress, smoothing the crepe satin with your fingers. You’d known that you would need to prepare yourself physically, but preparing yourself mentally was now an entirely different matter.

It was a boon that Jacob seemed as shocked to see you as you had been when Tommy had mentioned his name to you. For as long as it had been, Jacob seemed almost wholly unchanged. He stood from the restaurant table, straightening his jacket as you and Tommy grew closer.

Jacob’s dark hair was neatly coiffed; his warm, dark eyes lingered heavily on you as you approached him on Tommy’s arm. He was taller than Tommy, nearly 6’4, with broad shoulders, and biceps that bulged in such a way that they seemed to challenge the seams of his suit.

“Mr. Shelby,” Jacob turned his attention to Thomas, shaking his hand warmly.

“Mr. Miller,” They shook hands before Tommy gestured toward you, “I believe you know my wife.”

“I do,” Jacob nodded, “But I’m ashamed to say that I have not had the pleasure for quite some time.” He took hold of your extended hand, and while you’d expected a shake, he bowed over it, brushing a kiss to your knuckles. You fought to hold your expression steady as he leaned back, murmuring, “Mrs. Shelby.”

Mrs. Shelby. It had been your truth for nearly six months now, but you heard it so rarely that it hardly seemed to fit you.

“Mr. Miller,” You answered softly. “It is nice to see you again.”

“And you.”

“Shall we sit?” Tommy asked.

“Please.” Jacob waved his hands to the seat on the other side of the table from him. Tommy pulled your chair out for you, nodding as you murmured your thanks. He leaned down, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, and you couldn’t help but glance back with a small smile on your lips. You didn’t even care if it was for show. The outward affection that Tommy had given you in the last few weeks felt so nice. It had been so long since you’d felt anything like that, not since—Well. Not since Jacob, at least.

You let your eyes stray to the other side of the table where Jacob seemed to be perusing the wine menu. It was a relief. You weren’t sure what business the two were engaged in, and finding out right off the bat would have been a bit much for you to handle. You knew well enough now that Thomas liked to ease into his business rather than state it outright.

Dinner was delicious. Course upon course upon course of perfectly prepared, filling food, chased by sips of the best bottles of wine that the restaurant had to offer you. Jacob and Thomas spent the entire meal exchanging pleasantries, talking around business…Until you reached the wasteland between dessert and the bill.

“...Now,” Jay started, folding his arms on the table. “We ought to come to our reason for meeting.”

“In front of the lady?”

“She can handle it.”

Where there had been a tease in Tommy’s voice, there was a thread of annoyance in Jay’s, insistent and firm. You weren’t sure who you were more grateful for at that moment. Jay knew you in your place in your family’s structure; Tommy was still learning you, in a way. He shifted in his seat a touch beside you, curling his arm around the back of your seat.

“I know she can,” Tommy insisted. “I just wanted to remind you that it’s simply not polite.”

Polite. You were almost certain that that word had never once applied to Tommy Shelby. Jay gave Tommy a tight smile, giving a small nod.

“Well then,” He replied, tone clipped. “Let’s get to it. We have sixteen distribution centers, but we’d only be able to lend five to you and your operations.”

You glanced toward Tommy, trying to gauge his reaction to the news. He nodded slowly, tapping the ash from his cigarette into the tray on the table.

“When we last spoke,” He spoke matter-of-factly, his tone tipped with venom, “You told me that ten centers would be available.”

“Yes, well.” Jay’s gaze flitted toward you lightning-quick, then away again. “That was blue sky thinking on my part. The fact of the matter is, we have five. Take them or leave them.”

“I’ll leave them.”

Your gaze flitted over to Tommy, stunned. He’d leave the option of five, rather than pursue them and find five elsewhere?

“You’re kidding,” Jay scoffed before he nudged you beneath the table with his foot. “Talk some sense into your husband.”

You considered for a moment, taking in Tommy properly. It was stalwart—almost flat—but he quirked a brow. You took in his expression, his countenance…And you knew. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be enough for him. You shook your head a little, your gaze fixed on Tommy as you agreed:

“It’s ten or nothing, Jay,” You warned.

“Please,” Jay laughed. “You can’t have bought into his shit so quickly.”

Tommy’s expression flickered as he turned to meet Jay’s eye again, his eyes narrowing.

“You doubt my wife’s sense?” Tommy frowned, his voice daring Jay to disagree.

“Thomas,” You warned softly, but it was drowned out by Jay’s, “I’m questioning whether your wife still has a mind of her own.”

Tommy stood so quickly that it made you jolt, stunned at the sudden move. Jay followed suit, the glasses on the table rattling as his thighs hit the table on the way up. You reached out, hurriedly steadying the table as the motions drew the attention of the other diners. You looked up, gaze darting between the two of them.

“You question my wife’s intellect. That is a dangerous path to walk.”

“I knew her long before you, Shelby, and better, if I do say so.”

“Is that right.”

“Thomas,” You hissed, “Don’t.”

Your dread grew as Tommy’s gaze held steadfast and heavily on Jay’s.

“Tommy,” You reached up, catching hold of his hand and squeezing it, “Please. Not here.”

It was another long, harrowing moment before Tommy lowered himself to sit beside you again, his arm curling around the back of your chair. You watched him, your heart pounding as Jay reluctantly lowered himself to sit, casting an apologetic smile toward the maître d.

“So,” Tommy drawled, “If five is all you’ve to offer, we may as well conclude our business now.”

“I suppose we should,” Jay agreed, his gaze drifting toward you. Your eyes dropped to Tommy’s shoulder, holding steadily there, rather than look at Jay.

“I’ll take care of the check,” Jay offered.

“There’s no need,” Tommy insisted, drawing out his money clip and slapping a stack of bills on the table. “It’s on us.”

Your entire body was hot as you stormed into your hotel room, already reaching up to remove your earrings as you crossed the threshold.

“Was that necessary?” You spat, glancing back toward him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You bit your inner cheek, holding in a hysterical laugh. That was bullshit. You tossed the earrings onto the vanity, ignoring one that pinged off of the mirror and onto the floor. You reached back, struggling to tug your dress off. You huffed in irritation, simply holding your arms up. It was a moment before Tommy strolled over, drawing the dress off of your body. You turned away from you before he could get a proper look, snatching the dress, your pajamas, and robe before hurrying behind the room divider to change.

You drew off your slip and your stockings hurriedly, listening to Tommy mill around on the other side. You tugged on your pajamas and robe, tying the tie tightly before rounding the divider, your pretty purple dress balled up to shove into your suitcase.

“I did not appreciate that,” You announced primly, crouching beside the case for your toiletries.

“Appreciate what, precisely?”

“Being used as a bargaining chip.”

You straightened, settling at the vanity and taking up your cold cream to take your makeup off.

“...That’s not why I brought you.”

“Bullshit.” You met his eye in the mirror, uncaring of the fact that you likely looked ridiculous, smearing cream all over your face. “You wanted a position from the higher ground, and bringing me, you got it.”

You sprung up, striding over to the restroom and taking up a washcloth. You twisted on the tap, running it under the water and raising it to clean away the cold cream. You looked into the mirror, swiping away the remaining smudges of kohl beneath your eyes. You drew in a steadying breath, fighting to staunch your irritation. It felt good, but it just wasn’t enough.

You could hear the twisting of a bottle top, chased by the almost melodic sound of whiskey being poured into a glass. You straightened up, pitching the used washcloth into the basin of the sink and winding into the room. You plucked the glass of whiskey out of Tommy’s hands moments before he could take a sip, stomping over to the balcony and yanking the door open. You drew in a deep gulp as you leaned against the balcony, peering into the courtyard. The small winding path around it was lit with small lanterns, swaying in the evening breeze. You heard Tommy’s footsteps approaching after a few moments, but refused to look in his direction.

“What if you’re right?” He asked after a few moments.

“Then I’d say that you’d accomplished your mission.”

“Thank you for following my lead.”

“You should’ve taken the five.”

“Excuse me?”

“Better to have five to start with and look for five,” You argued, glancing up at him. “You could’ve negotiated a lower fee with Jay and an equal fee elsewhere.”

“You think my choice is foolish.”

“I think it’s short-sighted.”

Tommy’s brows rose and fell swiftly.

“You’re certainly entitled to that opinion.”

The telephone rang on the side table just inside the bedroom, and Tommy stepped away with a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As he went back inside. You turned to watch him, leaning against the balcony and watching him. He plucked the phone up, tucking it against his ear and answering, “Yes…Ah, Jay,” His gaze darted to yours. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening…Mm…Mhm…I see…”

Your brows rose, stomach roiling with nerves as you listened.

“Yes…Yes, ten centers will still do just fine,” Tommy insisted. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Dickhead.

“Of course… I understand…Thank you…Lovely doing business with you as well.”

You rested your chin on your hand as you heard Tommy lower the receiver back into the cradle. A moment later, he joined you on the balcony. You listened as he drew out a cigarette, tucked it between his lips, and lit a match. You caught the acrid scent of his cigarette just a few moments later.

“...Go on,” You finally sighed.

“‘Scuse me?”

“Gloat. Get it over with.”

“I think I’ll wait.”

“Tell me about him.”

Getting into bed with Thomas had been nerve-wracking. You’d been certain that he’d stay up and go out, but as you’d shut the light off and gotten under the covers, he’d joined you. There was a good amount of space between the two of you. You’d been staring at the ceiling, praying that sleep would come quickly, but you’d laid in silence until he’d asked that shocking question.

“What?” You frowned, letting your head loll to the side to look at him.

“Jacob Miller.”

You could feel him watching you in the room’s low light. You rolled onto your side to face him, tucking your hands under your head.

“I’m sure you did your research before doing business with him.”

“I did, but everything that I know is strictly professional. How did you meet him?”

You sighed softly, casting your mind back.

“It was at a party.”

“You brother’s?”

“No, he was still too young then. One of my Aunt Pearl’s friends threw it.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“How old was he?”

“Mm…Twenty I guess.”

“You liked him.”

“Not at first.”

“Why not?”

“He was just…I don’t know,” You shook your head. “He was too showy, flashy. Loud. But, he was already drunk by the time I got there. He’s far more calm when he doesn’t have a few in him.”

“Did you want to marry him?”

You considered for a moment, your thumb sweeping along the band of your wedding ring.

“I used to, I suppose.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“...It didn’t feel right.”

“And our marriage did?”

Did. The word hit you low in the belly. Did? Not does? What made Tommy think that your stance on the marriage had changed already? Was it your irritation at his tactics earlier that evening? You were certainly justified in that upset, and you wouldn’t let him talk you down from that, at least.

“...It’s different,” You insisted. “Jacob and I were simply attracted to one another. No strings. You and I married for the sakes of our families.”

“Do you regret it?”

You were quiet for a moment, taking in Tommy’s features.

“...No,” You shook your head. “We both got what we wanted. Didn’t we?”

Tommy nodded slowly, his foot gently brushing yours beneath the sheets.

“That we did.”

You nodded, relief melting over you.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hedged. It took a moment before Tommy admitted, “Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“There was a girl. Greta. We were young, and…She got very sick.”

“Only her?”

“...Another, named Grace. She worked at the Garrison.”

“Why her?”

“I thought we were cut from the same cloth.”

“...And now?”

Pain flashed across Tommy’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Now I know better.”

It was strange to wake up with someone else. You opened your eyes slowly, focusing on the rise-and-fall of your belly with the weight of Tommy’s arm atop it, the heat of his body pressed into your side. You tipped your head to look at him, taking him in properly in the early morning light. You raised your hand, gently smoothing back his sleep-mussed hair.

The night had yielded far more than you’d expected. You hadn’t expected Tommy to tell you about his first love, and you hadn’t expected him to ask about yours. You hoped that it would bring you closer, but with Tommy, you could never tell. Maybe it was leverage…But if it was, why would he have told you about Greta, or Grace? You peered up at the ceiling, noting to yourself that you ought to ask Peggy more about them when you got back to Birmingham.

You glanced toward Tommy as you felt him sigh, nuzzling your shoulder sleepily.

“...Morning,” You murmured. He hummed softly, turning his head from the window.

“I want coffee.” “I’ll order room service.”

You rolled over, reaching for the phone. You sucked in a breath as Tommy’s arms curled around your middle, his body pressing up against your back. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to dial the front desk.

“...Hello?...Two coffees…” You requested, “And, um…” You drew the receiver away. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Toast for now.”

“And two orders of toast…Room 402…Thank you.” You hung up, settling back down in bed. “It’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Should be ten for what we’re paying to stay here, ” Tommy sighed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Fine…You?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Tommy rolled away, stretching and yawning widely before he sat up. You stayed in bed, trying to remember the warmth of Tommy cuddling so close, certain that you wouldn’t feel it again any time soon. You’d forgotten how nice it was to be held. You watched him for a few moments, taking in the expanse of his pale back before you finally pushed yourself to sit up, lowering your gaze to the sheets as Tommy turned back toward you.

“...You alright?” He asked after a moment. You swallowed thickly, forcing a placid expression as you met his gaze again.

“Of course.”

For a moment, you thought that he may push back for an answer, but he let it go, nodding as he fished into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

The news that the Blakes would be visiting Birmingham had reached Pearl first. She had mentioned it to Polly, who had told Tommy while Lewis was in earshot. Lewis had written and sent you a note, and you’d had the facts of it by noon.

By the time Tommy returned for the evening, you were completely occupied with the arrangements. He found you in the kitchen with notebooks and your planner spread out over the table.

“I see you’ve heard,” He commented.

“I have.”

“Is there dinner?”

“There's soup and bread in the oven.”

Tommy grunted, walking more deeply into the kitchen. You hardly registered the feeling of him resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“...How was work?” You asked after a few moments.

“Fine.” You heard the oven door open, then close again. You tutted as he nudged some of your work aside, setting his plate down before he sat beside you. You could see Tommy rolling his sleeves up out of the corner of your eye, but you simply drew another notebook nearer to yourself, eyeing an itemized grocery list.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“Totaling the estimated costs. I want everything to be prepared before they arrive.”

“Mm…Have you eaten?”

You turned the page of your mother's old notebook, brow furrowing. Was it apple cake or apple pie that the Blakes preferred? Or apple strudel? You knew that there was apple involved—

You jolted as the notebook was yanked out from beneath your hands, tossed to the other side of the table, out of reach. You whirled around, eyes wide.

“Tommy!”

He pushed the plate toward you, turning it in your direction so that the stew was closer to you than it was to him. “Eat.”

“And what’s to stop me from just taking up the notebook up again?”

“I am.” Tommy snapped his fingers, pointing at the plate. “Eat.”

You huffed softly, taking up a piece of bread and reluctantly dipping it into the stew.

“...I made this for you,” You grumbled.

“What was it that the minister said when we were married? About the two being as one? Means we share.”

“How technical,” You grumbled through your mouthful. You glanced up as Tommy nudged a glass of wine closer to you. You took the glass up, taking a deep pull before passing it back. Lord above, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were. It hit you all at once, your stomach grumbling as you swallowed. You didn’t dare look at Tommy, nervous that he’d heard it.

“How long have you been at this?” He asked, waggling a finger toward the mess on the table.

“I don’t know. A while.”

“Mm. An awful lot of uproar for the Blakes.”

You cast him a sidelong glance, brow raised. “The Blakes are one of the oldest families in our acquaintance. I haven’t seen them since I was a child, since—” Since before your mother had passed. You cleared your throat, lowering your gaze to the plate. “Anyway. I was just going over my mother’s old party notes. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Beyond offending them and losing our connections? Gee, Thomas, I can’t think of a thing,” You quipped dryly. He seemed to smile unwittingly.

“Less chatting, more chewing,” He counseled, nudging the bowl closer again.

“I trust you have everything in hand.”

Pearl’s tone indicated that she did not trust that you did, in fact, have everything in hand. Despite her prickly barb and lack of faith, you’d managed everything quite well. The Blakes would be staying in your guest room, which had been fully kitted out when you’d remodeled the house. You’d ordered in a chef and a sous chef for the next few days, giving you the freedom to deal with the house, and you’d hired on a maid permanently. Ethel was a quick, eager, high-spirited woman, who had practically been your shadow for the last few days.

You cast Pearl a sidelong glance, jaw clenched as she lazily swept her eyes across the neat sitting room. You could just make out the sound of the cook and his sous chef bustling about in the kitchen, Ethel in the living room, setting the table.

“Yes, I have,” You nodded. “And thank you for all of your help this week.”

Pearl snorted at your contemptuous tone, tapping the ashes from her cigarette into a tray on the sideboard.

“You’re the lady of the house. You have to learn how to manage these things for yourself sometime. It may as well be now.”

You sighed, turning to the house and straightening the cushions for what had to be the eightieth time that day.

“Did you see them when they went into the office?” You asked, glancing back toward Polly.

“Mm, briefly. Beulah looked like hell. Poor woman never did have the stomach for the crossing. They booked too late, couldn’t get a cabin close enough to the middle. She must've spent the last five full days chucking her guts up.”

“Pearl,” You scowled, disgusted.

“I”m simply saying, don’t be too offended if she doesn’t eat too much at dinner tonight.”

“Mm. How about the old man?”

“Oh, you know Chester. Strong as an ox. He’ll outlive us all.” Pearl was quiet for a moment before she added, “They brought Hugh.”

The news hit you like a freight train. You groaned loudly, giving your foot one petulant stomp before striding over to the door to the dining room. You drew in a deep breath, steadying yourself before you opened the door.

“Ethel.”

“Ma’am?”

“We’ll be ten for dinner tonight—Unless,” You glared over toward Polly, “You have any more surprises.”

“Not a one. You’re a dear, Ethel,” Pearl gave her a bright smile. You turned your own tight smile toward Ethel, nodding, “Ten.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s better this way,” Pearl insisted as you let the door swing closed. “You were saying that you hated a lopsided table. Hugh evens out numbers.”

“How kind of him,” You grumbled. “How old is he now?”

“Thirty.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

“Mm.”

“...Attractive.”

You arched a brow at Pearl’s comment. She watched you for a moment before she lowered her gaze to the smoldering end of her cigarette.

“Is your husband still seeing that woman?” She asked. The mention of Lizzie made your gut pang with bitterness, but you forced your face into an uninterested mask as you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” You admitted.

“Does he bring her around?”

“No, but he may go to her. However he handles that business, he doesn’t—...It isn’t in the house, at least.”

“Have you considered asking him?”

“I don’t care what he does.”

“It’s up to you to know. Especially for the course of this visit.”

You sighed softly. “Thomas will do what’s best for the business. He won’t jeopardize it for a roll in the hay.”

“You’re certain?”

“Trust me, aunt. If there is one thing that he cares for in this world, it’s that.”

Pearl’s assessments of your visitors had been correct—you could see that the second they walked through the door.

With a full head of greyed hair and a neatly trimmed handlebar mustache, standing at 6’2, Chester Blake had the same larger-than-life air that he’d possessed when you were young. He was a little thicker around the middle than he had been the last time you’d seen him, but the sands of time didn’t exactly flow north. He was aging, but he wore it well. Beulah, on the other hand, looked as if she’d spent the entire crossing on the cargo hold of the ship. Her hair and clothing were neatly styled, but her typically pinked fair skin looked sallow, and her expression was drawn. Her bright grey eyes were dull, and her smile seemed just a little wobbly as she took you in.

“My word,” She managed, “How much you’ve grown.”

“And you haven’t changed at all,” You smiled as you embraced her, “Either of you.”

“A lie, and one that your mother would’ve abhorred, rest her soul,” Chester patted your shoulder, “But I’m happy to hear it myself.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I think that my mother would’ve scolded me if I hadn’t said as such.”

Tommy skirted around Beulah, resting a hand on your hip and leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. You smiled, despite the fact that the show of affection was likely a show for your guests.

“We mustn’t all crowd in the doorway,” You insisted as Tommy helped Beulah out of her coat, passing it off to Ethel, “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Have you got whiskey?” Chester asked as they followed you into the sitting room.

“Man after my own heart,” Tommy commented, walking over to the sideboard.

“And you, Beulah? Some tea, perhaps?” You suggested softly. She took your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“Ginger?”

“You’re an angel.”

“Ethel,” You turned to your maid as she headed for the kitchen, “A ginger tea for Mrs. Blake, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

You guided Beulah to a seat before joining Tommy at the sideboard.

“Would you like one?” He murmured.

“Thank you, no. I think it’d be best if I kept my head for the evening. There’ll be wine with dinner, besides.”

“Mm.”

You glanced toward Beulah where she had closed her eyes, then looked toward Chester, where he was eyeing the tintype photographs of your parents, and of Lewis when he was young.

“...Where are the boys?” You asked after a moment.

“With Polly and Pearl, showing Hugh a good time at the Garrison.”

You groaned quietly in annoyance. That was just what you needed—the lot of them spilling in to dinner, absolutely smashed.

“They’ll be on their best behavior,” Tommy added before you could complain further.

“You’re certain?”

“They gave me their word.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you gave a short nod, murmuring, “Alright.” You could feel Tommy eyeing you for a moment before you felt his hand slide across your waist. You raised your eyes to his as he shifted just a little closer, his hip pressing to yours.

“The contract was signed this morning—everything from here on out is just pleasantries. Relax.”

You drew in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before you sighed, lowering your eyes to collar. You closed your eyes as Tommy leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You patted his hand softly before he drew away, taking up one of the glasses and turning back to your guests.

“Here you are, Chester.”

You glanced toward Beulah, grimacing as you saw her raise her hand to her mouth, resting it there, as if she wasn’t sure whether she’d be ill or not. You walked over to her, forgoing propriety as you crouched beside her.

“The tea should be ready in a moment. Would you like to go and lie down for a few minutes before dinner?”

She gave you a small, grateful smile.

“I’ll be alright, dear,” She insisted, patting your hand. “But could I ask you to get the tin of mints from my coat? They’re in the left pocket.”

“Of course.”

You straightened, heading for the coat closet. You’d only just retrieved the tin when the front door was flung open. You heard the clamoring of voices just a moment later, and you watched as Polly, Pearl, Lewis, Arthur, John, and an unfamiliar man piled in. You folded your arms across your chest, unable to help the slight, disapproving raise of your brow. Pearl caught sight of you first, and she cackled, pinching your cheek.

“Give up the sourpuss, pet, it’s only us.”

“I can see that, thank you.”

Ethel zipped into the hall, rushing to collect the coats as quickly as they were being shrugged off. You gave Lewis, Arthur, and John a peck on the cheek as they passed you, heading into the sitting room.

“I don’t get one?”

The man’s voice gave you pause, and you turned to get a better look at him.

Hugh Chester Blake had been a menace of a child when you were growing up—stealing your books, dipping the ends of your hair in ink, shoving you down into the dirt as he passed. Your gaze swept him speculatively. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s thick, dark head of hair. You had remembered a lanky little twit, but he’d grown to be quite tall and quite broad.

“Hello, Hugh,” You greeted.

“That’s not a very warm welcome, is it.” He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to step back, swallowing thickly as he crowded into your space. Christ, where had Polly and Pearl gone? Play nice, just play nice. Pleasantries, you thought. Thomas had done the hard work, you couldn’t undo it by insulting the man—

“About time, Hugh,” You heard.

You could’ve cried with relief as Tommy joined you, curling a territorial arm around your waist.

“Mrs. Blake is looking for those mints, darling,” Tommy added. Darling, that was new—Your mind stalled at the endearment before you squeaked, “Oh, goodness! Excuse me.”

You hurried away from the crowded doorway, just catching on Tommy saying, “You boys took your sweet time.”

You crouched beside Mrs. Blake’s seat again, murmuring your apologies as you passed the tin over.

“It’s quite alright,” She insisted, “I know all about the hosting game—your attention is torn ten different directions.”

You smiled gratefully, giving her hand a squeeze as you straightened, glancing around. Everyone had drinks in hand…And Tommy and Hugh were still in the doorway. You frowned, recognizing the tight, irritated set of Tommy’s jaw. What could they possibly be discussing—?

“Dinner is nearly ready, Mrs. Shelby.” Ethel’s news snapped you out of your contemplation, and you nodded, smiling at her.

“I’ll start herding the cats, then. Thank you, Ethel.”

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. Every dish had been prepared perfectly—and the chef had been quick to heat broth for Beulah when she’d been wary of not being able to keep any of the rich meal down. You could feel yourself beginning to truly relax as you watched Pearl and Polly dance with John and Lewis. The sound of the record player, their chatter and laughter began to brighten up the typically drab, quiet calm of the sitting room.

“Room on your card for me?”

Hugh’s question made you clam up again, and your eyes darted to his palm. Pleasantries. You could manage one dance, couldn’t you? You gave him a small smile, resting your hand in his. You knew the moment that you did that it was a mistake. He tugged you far too harshly toward the others, causing you to nearly trip over your own feet. He rested his hand on your lower back, fingers splaying wide, nearly dipping lower than what was appropriate. Your hear ticked up in your chest as you took in the ruddiness in his cheeks.

Hugh was drunk.

You didn’t know how much he’d had at the Garrison, but he’d been pounding the wine back at dinner, nearly drinking an entire bottle alone, and hardly touching his food. Now, he jerkily steered you around the crowded space, his grasp on your hand so tight it was nearly painful. Where was Beulah? Maybe you could excuse yourself to check in on her—

“I’m cutting in.”

Your eyes darted gratefully to Tommy as he grasped Hugh’s jacket, forcing the man to stop.

“What?” Hugh asked, face reddening in irritation.

“I said,” Tommy stepped closer, “I’m cutting in. I want to dance with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

If you don’t mind. It was tactful, almost genius. It put the ball in Hugh’s court. The polite thing to do would be to acquiesce; if he didn’t, the phrasing and his refusal to let go would seem absolutely ridiculous. You felt Hugh glance between you and Tommy before he reluctantly passed you into Tommy’s hands.

“Thank you for the dance,” You added over your shoulder before Tommy steered you to the other side of the dance floor. You sighed softly, resting your forehead against Tommy’s shoulder. “Your timing was superb.”

Tommy hummed knowingly, swaying you slowly as Arthur switched the record over.

“Are you alright?” He asked, sweeping his thumb over the side of your hand.

“I am now,” You murmured, lifting your head to look at Tommy. He nodded, gaze sweeping your face. His nose brushed gently against yours, his eyes flitting to your lips, and lingering. You swiped your tongue along your lower lip, stomach fluttering as Tommy pressed his lips to yours. You felt the swaying slow, then stop as Tommy’s arm curled around your waist, drawing you into his chest. You gently lifted your hand from his shoulder, resting on his nape. You had barely kissed him on your wedding day. This was sweet in a way that you’d never known from Tommy—a way that you wanted to become more familiar with.

The hoots and whoops from Lewis, Arthur, and John snapped you from the tender embrace, and you turned your head from Tommy, embarrassedly pressing your face into his neck.

“Alright, pipe down,” Tommy grumbled. When you managed to draw yourself from your nervous hiding place, you found Polly and Pearl sharing a smile.

“…What are you doing in here?”

The question flew out of your mouth, coated in your surprise, and you could see the swell of Tommy’s amusement as he closed your bedroom door behind himself.

“Hugh is in my room,” He informed you. Oh—Lord above. You nodded a little. Of course. How hadn’t you thought of that?

“I see,” You muttered. Tommy hummed, pushing off from the door and walking deeper inside. You watched him take in the furnishings, his gaze sweeping the armchair and bookshelf, the small reading table, the nightstand…And the bed. You raised your hand, scrubbing at the back of your neck.

It was going to be alright, you told yourself. You’d slept with Tommy—you’d been asleep with Tommy—before, just a few weeks ago. That had been a comfortable enough experience, so…So this would be more than alright. You were certain of it.

“I’ll just,” You gestured toward the divider in the corner of the room, “I’ll go change.” You skirted around it before Tommy could argue, or offer to be the one to change behind it. You plucked up your pajamas and stepped behind the divider, scrubbing your hands over your heated face once you were out of his line of vision. How did this man still make you so nervous?

“...It was a lovely evening.” Tommy’s insistence floated over the divider to you, prompting you to snap into action.

“Yes, it was,” You answered, words slightly muffled as you drew your dress up and over your head. You hung it over the silk folding screen, reaching for the fastenings on your brassiere and corset. “I’ll have to give the cook an excellent recommendation. Dinner was superb.”

“Yes.”

You drew off your thigh-highs, hanging them on the screen by your dress. You pulled on your nightdress, smoothing your hands over the cool, sky-blue fabric before putting on the matching robe.

“…May I come out?” You asked, damning your nerves.

“Of course.”

You stepped around the screen, surprised to find Tommy in bed already. He had the manuscript that had been on your bedside table in hand.

“You’re making progress,” He commented, flipping through a few pages, skimming a few of your corrections and notes.

“I was. Things got a little…Held up with the Blake’s visit,” You admitted. You’d hardly touched the manuscript in the last couple of weeks. You walked over to the basin, trying to ignore the feeling of Tommy’s gaze following you.

“…Is that new?” He asked.

“Hm?” You looked at them, finding his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. The interest in his gaze warmed you, and you hurriedly looked away again as his eyes swept upward. “Oh, the—This? No.”

“Had it long?”

“A few months.” It was another outfit that you’d gotten for your honeymoon months ago—one that Tommy would never had had a reason to see before.

“Will you be reading before bed?” Tommy asked.

“I think not. It’s been a long day.”

The stress was beginning to drain from your system, making you feel the full weight of your fatigue. You were almost certain that you’d fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You washed your face quickly, listening to Tommy turn the pages of the manuscript every few moments. When you finished, you dried your hands and turned back to the bed.

“Would you like to leave that light on?” You asked, nodding toward the lamp on the bedside table as you shrugged your robe off, hanging it up on the bed post.

“I can do without it, unless you’d like it on.”

“No! I’m alright,” You chirped as you climbed into bed, tugging the covers up. Tommy set the manuscript aside, shutting the light off before he settled down in bed beside you. You could feel his legs brush against yours as you the two of you laid on your sides facing one another.

“…Hugh’s a live one, isn’t he,” Tommy commented.

“He hasn’t been told no much before.”

“That became quite clear.”

You shivered at the thread of steel in Tommy’s tone. You reached out, tracing a finger gently along the back of his hand.

“Thank you again,” You added, “For stepping in when you did.”

“I told you,” Tommy turned his hand over beneath yours. “If I ever find out another man touched you, I’ll give you his hands.”

You huffed a soft laugh through your nose.

“May put a bit of a damper on your contract with his father.”

“Though they’d make an excellent trophy above the mantle.”

“That’s vile,” You giggled, smile widening as Tommy’s hand wrapped around yours. You were quiet for a few moments, reveling in the heat of his palm against yours. “…I don’t suppose I’m afforded the same opportunity?” You added.

“What do you mean?”

“Whose hands would I get to take as a trophy?”

Tommy met the statement with silence, and it made you want to sink into the bed. You’d been joking—

“There’s been no one,” He finally said. The admission made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s been no one,” He repeated.

“But…Lizzie—”

“Not for months.”

Months. When had it stopped? And—

“Why?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. He pressed another to your forearm, then shifted closer, lips brushing against your shoulder. He turned his head, and your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Tommy—” You breathed, but you were unable to get another word out as his lips covered yours. You sighed against his lips, raising your other hand to smooth over the close crop of his undercut. He let go of your hand just long enough to grasp your nightdress, using his hold on the fabric to draw you closer, then steer himself up over you. You let your thighs splay as he slotted between them, pressing his bare chest against you, hips flush and grinding against yours. His kisses trailed lower, hands grasping covetously at the fabric covering your chest. He gave the lace a yank, and you hissed softly as you heard it rip.

“Tommy—Oh,” Your mouth fell open as he drew one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, “Damnit—I liked this nightdress.”

Tommy lifted his head, lips brushing your chin. “I’ll get you others,” He grumbled against you, “I’ll buy you a hundred more tomorrow.” His hand slipped between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers brushed against your pussy. You tipped your hips up into his touch pleadingly, lowering your chin and finding his lips with yours.

“I want you bare,” He murmured against your lips.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

“No.”

The answer made you go still, embarrassment and nerves flipping your stomach. Tommy took your face in his hands, holding your gaze steadily with his.

“I’m going to make love to my wife.”

His palm pressed heavily over your mouth, muffling your moans as his cock stretched your needy core. You pressed your head back into the pillows, curling your arms around his shoulders, and your legs around the backs of his.

“Sssh,” He murmured, the push of the hush brushing against your ear. “We don’t want the Blakes hearing, do we?”

You managed to shake your head a little, blinking up at Tommy as you panted broadly against his palm. Your cunt throbbed around his cock as he fully sheathed himself in you. You reached up, tugging Tommy’s hand away and catching his lips in a kiss. His fingers intertwined with yours, raising your joined hands to rest on the pillow beside you. He rolled his hips gently, then again as you whimpered, swirling his tongue with yours. Tommy fucked you with slow, even strokes, trading slow kisses as you moaned and panted into one another’s mouths.

Tommy broke your kiss, pressing his face into your neck as his thrusts became harder. You gasped, sinking your nails into his shoulders as you let your eyes slide closed. The bed was beginning to creak with his movements, the slapping of your hips slightly muffled beneath the sheets. You felt the familiar curling sensation beneath your waist, and you slid a hand down, grasping Tommy’s behind and using the grip to urge him on. He drew back just enough to get a good look at you, his eyes bright in the dim room. You sucked in a stunned breath as he reached between your legs, fingers teasing your clit as his hips pounded yours more roughly.

Your eyes widened as the headboard whacked against the wall behind you.

“Tommy,” You chastised, “Hugh will hear—”

“Let him,” Tommy spat, “Let him hear how I take care of my wife.”

You bit your lip to quiet your moans, grasping his wrist and stilling it as his touch tipped you over the edge. Your hips bounded up against his, chased by the harsh slamming of his hips, and the heat of him spilling into you. The scrape and squeak of the bed quieted as Tommy braced himself over you, looking down at your sweat-sheened body. He leaned down, brushing his lips over your breasts, then up, over your neck. You closed your eyes, curling your arm around his shoulder and resting your hand on the nape of his neck. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the pounding of his heart against yours. You turned your head, nuzzling his hair and pressing a kiss to his head.

“…Think that dresser has enough room for my things, too?” He mumbled. You grinned, tightening your grip on him as his hand tenderly smoothed along your thigh.

“It certainly does.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @babaohhhriley ; @thescarletfang ;

#Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x You #Tommy Shelby/Reader #Tommy Shelby/You #Tommy Shelby fic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Making Arrangements

340 notes · View notes