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Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion | EP. 6 — PIERIS NAPI

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

“You’re insane, Jisung, I love you so much.”

He stares at you in disbelief. His mouth falls agape.

“What… what did you just say?”

[ abstract ]: After a rough break up during semester break, you’re put in a class with none other than your longtime academic rival Han Jisung once university starts again. Things don’t get any easier considering he’s your older brother’s best friend and destiny decides to assign you two to a partner project. Luckily, you can distract yourself a little by chatting with the mysterious guy you met online a couple of months ago, getting closer both emotionally and physically with him, absolutely unaware he might be nearer than you would expect…

[ general ]: jisung + fem reader, gamer + stoner jisung, gamer reader, academic rivals/enemies → lovers, brother’s best friend, minho is reader’s slightly older brother, college au, smut + angst + fluff, accidental online dating, inexperienced jisung + inexperienced reader [ real life ] vs simp jisung + brat reader [ online ] so they act a lot differently while chatting, please refer to series m.list for more info

[ warning ]: alcohol consumption, gaslighting, slut shaming and toxic behaviour [ ex partner ], explicit sexual scene [ includes switch dynamics, consensual sex while being tipsy, semi-protected sex, hand job and fingering, hair pulling, spanking, name calling such as doll, baby, slut ]

[ words ]: 6.1K

[ note ]: Hey everyone!! Another Saturday means another chapter from your girlie. Thank you once again for the INSANE feedback. You guys are amazing, I hope you will enjoy this part. If you liked this episode too, I'd be very grateful about any kind reblog, comment, ask or DM!! Also, make sure to read The Experience Project, my other series that is part of the same universe!! Lots of love, Cece 🩷

“Good morning, baby,” Jisung says, as soon as you open your eyes. He’s lying next to you, his arm slung around your hips, pulling you towards him. You can’t believe you’ve got this dream again, it almost feels like scam, considering how often this has happened in the past weeks.

But when the man next to you scoots nearer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, it feels so oddly… real.

“I’m not… dreaming?”

Jisung chuckles, “You’re not, doll. We fell asleep last night.”

Right. You recall it now. You came here for working on your project, got high with him and then he fucked you again and again until your legs were sore. Well, they still are.

But then another memory pops up in your head. It’s not clear, not detailed. After all, you were half-awake but you remember Jisung getting up at night and searching for some snacks. You don’t blame him and you can’t be mad at him for disturbing your sleep when he lives in this cramped studio apartment, but you noticed him staring at your phone screen.

Perhaps, he didn’t find his own and was just checking the time. No need to get worried, right?

Jisung adds another sweet little kiss on your lips, before he gets up and says, “I’m gonna make some breakfast. And by that I mean ordering something.”

You chuckle, watching him walk to the couch where his phone is located. Okay. Then he must have just checked the time and didn’t find anything weird on–

Wait. Your phone—placed on the nightstand table—lights up at that second, showing you a notification from Yuna, asking when you would get home.

And right underneath it is.

Two unread messages from your ex.

Fuck, why did you unblock him again?

[ Seojun ]: Hi, Y/N. This is probably a bad idea and I know you don’t wanna hear anything from me. But I miss you. Like a lot. I regret breaking up with you. Do you think we could try again?

[ Seojun ]: I’ll be at Yeonjun’s party next Friday. Maybe we can meet there and talk a little? I’m sure you’ve missed me too, haven’t you? ❤️

What a fucking idiot. First, that guy has the empathy level of a dining table. Second, he made you feel bad for the sexual desires you have. Third, he probably cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about. Where does he even get the audacity from to contact you?

“Is everything alright?” Jisung asks, already knowing what you must have witnessed when he sees you staring at your phone screen.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just Yuna asking where I am—fuck, I totally forgot to tell her that I stayed over…”

“Did… did she know you were gonna go to my place?”

You nod, “Yeah. Told her we would work on the project.”

“And then you don’t come back,” he continues, “do you think she might have figured it–“

“No, I’m sure she didn’t.” Lily almost did, though. And you’re sure Hannah might as well. Depending on how well Chan can keep a secret. “No need to worry about anything.”

Jisung wonders why you don’t tell him about your ex texting you. He isn’t even aware if you know that the two know each other. Well, knowing is a bit far. He used to be Hyunjin’s best friend a long while ago—the three of them always hanging out together—until he destroyed their trust forever, probably making Hyunjin the way he is today. But that’s for another story.

What he does know is that Seojun doesn’t respect women. Or anyone. Probably not even himself. And Jisung wonders how he didn’t connect the dots sooner. Your ex is into inexperienced girls, that he tosses aside after taking their virginity. Just like Seojun has always done.

He dearly hopes you won’t fall for this again. Jisung prays that you will trust him and allow him to protect you in case that piece of shit tries anything.

“Y/N?”

You look up at him, “Yeah?”

But he’s too much of a coward to say what’s really on his mind. “You look beautiful.”

“You’re making me all flustered, Jisung,” you confess.

He crawls back into bed with you after he placed an order online.

“That was my plan, to be honest,” he adds, right before attaching his lips to yours.

“Is it… Soobin?” Lily asks.

Maybe ordering another round of soju was a mistake.

“I’ve already told you guys it’s not him. I would never,” you explain to them, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, he’s not as bad as Jisung,” Yuna says, nudging your shoulder.

“Y/N? Is it Jisung?” Lily questions. She almost managed to make your heart stop the other day when she proposed that same idea in the group chat.

“God, no. It’s not Jisung,” you lie.

You suddenly think back to the nights you’ve spent with him. It’s Thursday by now, but you didn’t really come home these days, only entering your apartment to grab some fresh clothes and your study supplies. Spending your days and nights at Jisung’s apartment is what you gladly signed up for—he helps you stay motivated for school, turning everything into a contest, while you either order food or cook a delicious meal together.

He’s been keeping you up at night, that’s for sure. Especially, after he found out that he’s the first one who has ever gone down on you. Jisung appreciates nothing more than having his face between your legs, making you come just from his tongue and fingers over and over again, until you’re ready for his dick.

Fucking hell. How are you supposed to focus on anything?

“But you would, wouldn’t you?” Yuna asks.

“Huh?”

“You would fuck Jisung, wouldn’t you?” your roommate repeats, a smirk on her face, as she down another shot of soju.

“Of course, she would,” Hannah interferes. “She’s been in love with him since her childhood, it’s ridiculous.”

“W-What? I’m not…”

“Remember when we got drunk a year ago and searched for our old diaries to read them out loud to each other?” your best friend asks, leaning towards you, as she throws her arm around your shoulder.

“I guess I got too drunk,” you say, sipping on your beverage.

“Nothing new,” Hannah replies. “Yeah, you mentioned Jisung there. Writing about how you fell in love with your brother’s best friend and all.”

God, this is embarrassing. But you’re too drunk to care.

“Minho would lose his mind,” Lily says, her hands placed over her mouth.

“Oh, he would. Believe me,” you confirm, rolling your eyes.

Yuna leans towards you, “Is this what’s holding you back?”

“No, she’s always said that she thinks it’s not reciprocated,” Hannah explains.

Cool, you’re totally getting exposed. But it was inevitable anyway, right? Just a matter of time.

“It totally is! Have you seen him look at you?” Lily encourages you.

“How was studying with him by the way? You were at his place, right? What is his apartment like?” Yuna asks.

“Cosy but small,” Lily suddenly says.

Jealousy erupts in your stomach and that’s exactly what your friend was anticipating with it. But you play it cool. “You’ve been at his place before?” Has something ever happened between these two?

“Chill, no need to get jealous, Y/N. He’s my dealer, duh,” Lily admits.

Oh, okay. That makes sense. Fuck. You definitely overreacted. Don’t be so suspicious.

“So… why don’t you just make a move on him at Yeonjun’s party?” Hannah suggests.

Lily throws her arms around, “Wait—speaking of party, haven’t you guys made out at Hyunjin’s party a week ago?”

“You did what?” your best friend asks, her mouth falling agape. She was already surprised about you kissing Chan—which she’s glad about was just for a bet—but you and Jisung? Shit, she should have turned this into a bet with Yuna and Lily too.

“We… we got locked inside the storage room during Truth or Dare,” you confess, avoiding eye contact with anyone at all cost.

Hannah pretends to be hurt, getting up from her seat.

“AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME? You’re calling yourself my best friend, huh?”

Everyone in the pub is looking at your friend group, so you shush her back on her seat. Lily and Yuna do their best to not accidentally flip something off the table, when they start bursting out into laughter.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Minho almost found us so I had to lie to him and… escape,” you explain.

“But… how was it?”

You sigh, “Magical.” Your face lands on your hands that are placed on the table.

“Wait another time—what’s with the guy you’re dating? Has this happened at the same time?” Yuna suddenly questions.

You don’t reply.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell us who he is, yeah? Whenever you’re ready,” Hannah says, patting your shoulder. You know that she’s figured it out judging the soft smile she gives you. You nod, smiling back. “I’m just glad to know you’re safe and happy.”

Your best friend knows. You’re pretty damn sure she knows.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N, we didn’t wanna put pressure on you. We’re just insanely happy after all the shit you’ve been through with Seojun,” Lily adds.

You gulp.

“Is everything okay?” Yuna immediately asks.

“Seojun… he… he texted me last night,” you admit. This is a safe space.

You curse yourself for not telling Jisung. But you don’t want him to get insecure. After all, you’re pretty sure he’s read those messages anyway and realised that guy named Seojun must be your ex. You feel awful, yes. You will tell him soon, you promise that to yourself because he deserves nothing but the truth.

“How? Didn’t you block him?”

“I unblocked him a month ago when I… when I finally moved on.” When I fell in love with j.0ne. “He asked me to meet at Yeonjun’s party.”

“Oh, you’re not, babe. You’re not gonna meet him,” Yuna immediately says.

“Of course, I won’t, I’m not stupid. Well, not anymore.”

Your friends start laughing along with you.

“What if he pulls some shady move on you? Threatens you? Kidnaps you?”

“Chill, Lily,” you try to calm her down. “He’s not a psycho, just a coward that can’t make women come. That’s why he goes after virgins, knowing they’re expectations are low as fuck. Including me.”

“He’s so… yikes,” Hannah adds.

“Despite that, I don��t have to worry, my boyfriend is gonna be there protecting me.”

Fuck.

Shit.

Did you really just say that out loud?

“Your boyfriend?”

Well, he is your boyfriend, isn’t he? You haven’t talked about it yet. At least not more than you discussed before. After all, you still have to figure out how to handle the whole Minho drama.

“Oh my God, she said it. He’s her boyfriend. The mysterious Discord guy is her boyfriend,” Lily cheers, clapping her hands and all the others join. The pub has gotten so crowded that no one seems to question it anyway.

“So, we will meet him on Friday?”

You sigh, “I guess so…”

“You can’t hide him any longer, Y/N,” Yuna teases you. “We need to meet him!”

“Fine.”

What the fuck have you done?

“It’s so fucking loud in here,” Lily says, screaming into your ear. Friday is finally around the corner. You’ve got a beverage chilling in one of your hands, while the other one is entangled with your friend’s hand. Lily guides you through the crowd, making sure to bring you two to a much quieter place. Well, quiet is relative here. But at least some space without the constant fear of having five different drinks downed on your outfit at once.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe Yeonjun is having such a huge party,” Yuna greets you, when she sees the two of you.

“Yeah, didn’t expect this either,” you reply.

You’re not really in the mood for this anyway. Your initial idea was to call off and stay at Jisung’s place instead, just like you’ve done for the past week. But it would have been too suspicious if both of you didn’t attend this event. Plus, your friends are waiting for you to introduce your significant other. Right.

“Where’s your prince, Y/N?” Hannah asks, when she joins you. “I’ve got a round of shots for everyone, though.” She places the little jars on the counter of the huge kitchen where you’re currently at.

“Did someone say shots?” your brother enters the room with his girlfriend next to him. Yes. They’re finally together. You’re still surprised why Felix’s roommate would voluntarily date your brother but all of us have their flaws, right?

She’s a kind girl. You’ve seen her a few times before and she seems nice. Plus, she’s got a cute style. Still, it feels kind of unfair that your brother gets to be lucky and happy while he tells you to not experience the same thing. Well, you’ve never listened to him anyway. But he doesn’t have to know that his little sister and his best friend have been meeting each other behind his back for more than just school work.

“Oh, you two are here too,” Yuna greets them.

“Yeah. Felix and Ji should be somewhere around here as well.”

Hannah’s gaze instantly connects with yours. You still haven’t talked to your best friend about this but you’re sure she must have counted two and two together by now. Hannah knows that Jisung is your boyfriend, right?

You give her a small smile for confirmation and she tries her best to hold back a giggle.

“There he is,” your brother announces, when he watches his best friend enter the kitchen. “You’re in for a round of shots, Ji?”

He looks at everyone dumbfounded, not expecting such a huge group to gather up here and certainly not you being included. “S-Sure.”

Jisung takes one of the glasses, before all of you hold your own up and down the drinks. It tastes like pure alcohol and you don’t even wanna know what Hannah prepared this time.

“Is your girl here, Han?” your brother asks and you can tell from this voice that he's already tipsy. But most of you are.

“Who?” your boyfriend says, trying to gain some time while not wanting to act suspicious.

“Bro, that girl you’ve been talking to.” Minho turns around to the group. “He’s been chatting with some mysterious woman on Discord, they met while playing Levanter and all.”

His girlfriend giggles, “She seems to be real after all. Although I’m still mad that she didn’t go camping with us. These two missed out on a lot.”

You’re trying to avoid eye contact with basically everyone. Until your roommate crosses your view. Yuna stares at you. She shoots daggers right through your skull.

Panic washes over your face and you shake your head at her, placing your index finger on your lips to tell her to shut up. She holds back a giggle but nods, letting you silently know that your secret is safe with her—especially when Minho is around.

“What are you two on about?” your brother suddenly asks, pointing at Yuna and then at you.

“Nothing,” you say, smiling.

“Just discussing what to drink next,” your roommate says and Minho believes her.

It’s a few hours into the party. Despite the drinks you’ve had, you don’t feel too much. Maybe your liver is getting used to it or the drinks are just low quality like the party itself. The music is shit, every corner of the house is occupied by couples kissing and touching each other.

Meanwhile, you’re unfortunately slowly turning into the overthinking type of drunk person. You blame it on your ex who announced to meet you here although you never accepted his offer. Therefore, you’re now trying to hide from him, running around in the building.

As if this isn’t enough, you’re still feeling bad about the fact that you haven’t told Jisung about these texts. Sure, he won’t recognise your ex since they don’t know each other—as far as you know—but it still feels like having a secret.

Finishing your current drink, you change course and decide to look for Jisung now. You’ve gotta tell him. And then maybe the two of you can get out of here. You know that he doesn’t enjoy those huge parties and crowds either and you would very much rather spend time in his bed with him, ordering takeout and watching some shitty movie.

God. You can’t believe this is your life now. It’s so domestic, all you’ve ever wanted. If you told the Y/N from a few weeks ago that she would be in a relationship with her longtime crush, she would never believe you.

Finally, you find the man in question, standing next to Felix and Changbin.

“Jisung,” you approach him. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, almost reaching for your waist to pull you closer until he remembers you’re in public. “What’s going on?”

You guide him upstairs, searching for an actual quiet spot. The first few doors that you open either lead to bathrooms, storage spaces or some already occupied bedrooms. Yeah. Until you find an empty one that isn’t much decorated. Perhaps, whoever lives here just moved in.

“Tell me, doll. What’s going on, hm?”

Jisung and you sit down on the bed while you internally apologise to the owner of the room for sitting down with your outside clothes.

“I… I haven’t told you, but I saw you looking at my phone the other day when my ex texted me,” you decide to just lay the cards on the table.

Jisung’s eyes are widening, “I’m… I’m sorry, I—seriously, I wasn’t trying to be sneaky or–“

“What? No. That’s not what I meant,” you immediately tell him. “That’s fine, really. I didn’t want to make you insecure, there isn’t anything going on between him and me, it’s just… I immediately deleted those messages—after taking screenshots, so he can’t gaslight me, and to send them to Nabi, his new girlfriend. But–“

“What are you trying to say?” he asks, his eyes searching for any hints in your face. He’s confused. He already suspected that you somehow found out and maybe didn’t tell him because you thought he was jealous. Although there’s really no need. Seojun isn’t competing with your boyfriend on any level.

“I don’t even know… I just want you to know that I’m over him. I’ve only got eyes for you,” you confess.

His gaze softens, before a smirk erupts on his face. “Is that so?” he teases you.

“Yeah, Jisung. I hope I don’t run into him…”

Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips, pulling him towards you. A little kiss appears on your forehead. “I will protect you from him, I promise.”

“He’s not dangerous, Ji. He’s just an idiot,” you explain and he starts laughing.

“Same thing, in my opinion,” Jisung replies. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve gotta confess something too,” he starts, already feeling his heartbeat quickening. He should have told you so much sooner.

“W-What is it?”

“I know Seojun. At least I think so, if it’s the same guy,” he admits.

“Kang Seojun?”

Oh, no. It’s him. Kang Seojun is Jisung’s and Hyunjin’s former friend and your shitty ex.

“Fucking hell, it’s really him,” he gasps.

“I… I don’t understand,” you reply, shaking your head.

“He used to be friends with Hyunjin and me… until he… until he played with the feelings of a girl that Hyunjin liked… It was back in our last year of high school, messy time and all. The girl wanted to take revenge on Seojun for using her and made a move on Hyunjin—not the nicest idea, but I understood her. However, our dear dramatic ferret stayed loyal despite falling in love with her and knowing she actually felt the same for him.”

You’ve never thought of Hyunjin as a ferret, although you see the similarities now.

“And then,” Jisung continues, “Seojun started talking shit about Hyunjin out of jealousy to every girl Hyunjin met, making him be portrayed as this fuckboy—although, sorry for the TMI, Hyune was still a virgin at that time. So, one thing led to another until our dear friend turned into exactly what people were making him ought to be.”

This is insane. So, you were just another innocent prey that he was searching for? Your stomach does an uncomfortable turn at the thought of it and you can’t even blame it on the alcohol. He’s probably the most disgusting person you’ve ever met and you suddenly feel so weird for trusting him that much back then. Hell, even believing you ever had feelings for that asshole is terrible.

At the same time, you feel bad for Hyunjin now. Sure, everyone is responsible for their own behaviour but you still feel for him if he was put in a situation like this. Hyunjin and you aren’t the closest friends, but after that talk in his bathroom last week, you realised there has to be more behind all that.

“Fucking hell. I’ve always known that guy had a soft spot,” you say about your Hyunjin.

“I don’t want to admit it, because we’re not really friends any more for different reasons, but you’re right,” Jisung agrees. You wonder what happened between them but that’s not the focus of this conversation now.

“That’s… that’s messy. But I’m not even surprised. Thank you for telling me this,” you say, smiling at him.

The room falls silent for a minute, when you place your head on his shoulder. The two of you just enjoy the moment, far away from any crowds or any Minhos and Seojuns that might destroy your little piece.

Suddenly, your boyfriend shifts in his seat.

“I’ve got something for you, a little gift,” he begins.

You look at him, “A gift?”

“Yeah, nothing out of this universe,” he jokes, knowing it’ll make sense soon. He reaches for the bag he’s brought with him, fishing a little present out of it. Jisung hands it to you.

You immediately notice how heavy it is.

“Unwrap it.”

You do as you’re told, freeing the gift from the packaging, until you’re holding a rock inside your hands.

“A star would have been too hot to grab—not as hot as you—so I got you a comet instead. Is that fine?”

He can’t be real. He can’t be for fucking real.

You gasp, turning the object around, until you see a little label attached to it with the letters Seoul National Science Museum. You won’t even question how he got that.

“Chill, it’s from the souvenir shop. I didn’t steal it.”

You feel tears pricking at your lower lash line. You’ve never expected him to actually remember this and do it.

“You’re insane, Jisung, fuck, I love you so much.”

He stares at you in disbelief. His mouth falls agape.

“What… what did you just say?”

“I’m… I’m in love with you. I said it. I love you, Han. I love you, j.0ne. I love you, Jisung. All of you.”

He kisses you passionately, almost making you drop down the comet. “I love you so fucking much too, Y/N. All of your personalities.”

You align your lips with him this time, smashing your mouth against his own.

He seriously got a star comet for you. He kept his word. This is insane. How can this man be real? And why the hell has he been hiding behind this shell for all those years, teasing and annoying you, when the two of you could have already lived your happily ever after?

It doesn’t matter. What counts is that you have each other now. And you know that Jisung and you will stick together, you and him against the world.

He keeps kissing you passionately and hungrily, as if he hasn’t been doing this for the past week. Every kiss with him feels like the first one over again, like an invitation to a new adventure that offers excitement, safety and comfort at once. Jisung slips his tongue inside your mouth, soon letting it dance with your own.

And you’ve got plans that work quite well with what he’s craving right now. You get in his lap, absolutely unapologetically, taking the lead this time. Jisung chuckles but lets you do what you want, his hands now attached to your waist. He pulls you closer, while you start grinding on him. Your boyfriend helps you find a good rhythm, feeling your panties rub over his clothed bulge.

Of course, you had to wear a skirt again. Sometimes he wonders if you do that on purpose—so that he can just pull the fabric up and fuck you whenever he pleases—but then he remembers that you’ve always dressed like this. Still, he likes the idea of it. God, he’s such a simp for you. That’ll never change.

You reach for his belt, fumbling with it, before you throw it somewhere on the floor. The zipper of his pants gets pulled down next, before you sneak your hand into his boxers. You find him hard, Jisung doesn’t even try to hide it, when you start stroking him.

“In here? In a stranger’s bedroom? You’re naughty, doll…” he tells you in between kisses.

“It’s one of my fantasies, not gonna lie,” you admit.

You free his dick from the pieces of clothing, as you continue pumping him. A string of saliva collides with his tip, before you use your thumb to smear it over his cockhead first and then over his full length.

“You’re gonna surprise me every day, baby,” he whimpers.

“Reminds me of the storage room situation but it’s an actual room this time. Whoever owns that one,” you chuckle.

Jisung slips his hand under your skirt, while you’re busy pleasuring him. He wants to give back the feeling you're granting him, which is why he slides your drenched panties aside. You’re so wet for him, he’s afraid he might just come undone before he’s been inside of you.

The two of you totally forgot to lock the door but with the state you’re in right now, none of you will remember that anytime soon. Hopefully, no one will barge in.

Jisung has two digits in your cunt, scissoring you open to prepare you for his dick. You’re moving up and down, fucking yourself on his fingers, while he uses his thumb to rub smooth circles on your clit.

“I need to fuck you, Ji,” you confess, biting your lower lip. He looks so fucked out but you’re sure you’re nothing better. Messy hair, smudged makeup, your shirt pulled down to expose your tits to him so he can play with one of them while his other fingers are busy stretching you out. “This isn’t enough, baby.”

He’s already hovering you closer, so you can align your entrance with his cock, until he remembers an important detail.

“Wait… I don’t have a condom with me. But I’m fine doing other things.” You’re not surprised. Although you do in fact need more.

“I haven’t told you yet, but I’ve been on the pill this whole time… so, I’m okay if we don’t use one,” you admit. Because you feel safe with him. You’ve never had sex without a condom before—although Seojun constantly complained, telling you, he didn’t feel as much while wearing one—but you trust Jisung so much.

“Woah… okay. Yeah, I’m alright with not using one too, then. It’s gonna make a mess, though,” he reminds you.

You chuckle, “Well, you can just come inside my mouth or my cunt, Ji.”

“How on earth are you real? You’re gonna make me blow too soon, baby,” he whines. There he’s back. That’s j.0ne talking to you.

You decide to shut him up with a kiss, while you align your hole with his tip. You slowly sink down, taking him in. Jisung is filling you up so well, it feels like being close to him for the first time over again.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, doll. Your pussy is swallowing me, fuck—feels so good,” he whispers, when he listens to the squelching sounds that are echoing through the stranger’s bedroom.

“Do you hear this? Can you hear how wet you are for me? How much of a slut you are for me and only me?” he asks, thrusting up into you from below, once again doing most of the work.

He feels you clenching around him, but you decide to rile him up further, “Jisung, stop teasing and go harder.”

“Always so fucking demanding.” Slap. His hand collides with your ass cheek. You’re both still fully dressed. Jisung has his pants and underwear slightly pushed down, while your panties are just pulled to the side. “You want me to go rougher on you, hm? Fuck you like a slut?”

“I bet you’re too gentle to me anyway,” you say, clicking your tongue, as you keep riding him.

The grip on your hips tightens, before Jisung lifts you up and suddenly pulls out of you. He spins you around, manhandling you until you land on your stomach.

“You’re so gonna regret this, doll,” he warns you with a chuckle. Before he slams right into you again.

Moans, whimpers and whines are filling the room, as he is pounding his length into you. From time to time, he adds another slap to your sensitive flesh, before he grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him.

“Hm, still want me to go harder?” he whispers into your ear.

“Still not convinced, stop talking so much and make me come—oh, fuck, right there,” you let out, when he changes the angle a bit.

“Yeah, that’s it. Always complaining. This greedy pussy never gets enough, hm? I’ve been fucking you every night this whole week and you’re still asking for more?”

Jisung brings his other hand between your legs, while two of his fingers are now busy playing with your clit. He’s driving you closer and closer to the edge, making you forget about everything else. He feels so perfect inside you, as if this is meant to be. And you know that it is.

A minute later, you come around his cock, when your walls tighten around him, sucking him in even further.

“Just like that, doll. You’re so good for me,” he praises you, helping you through your climax.

Jisung keeps rutting into your aching hole, while he senses himself getting sloppier with his movement. His high is close. Dangerously close.

“I want you to come inside, Jisung,” you confess.

And that’s what he does. His seeds fill you up a second later, warm ropes of come hitting your walls, while he keeps moaning and whimpering into your ear. You encourage him with sweet little praises, until Jisung comes down from his high again.

The two of you stay like this for a little while, his cock still buried inside of you.

Until the door swings open.

“What the fuck are you doing inside my bedroom?”

Your ex is standing in front of you, seeing you on all fours, while his former friend is inside of you.

It’s Seojun’s room. Jisung is fucking you in Seojun’s bedroom. You didn’t even know he moved into this frat house.

Well, that’s a whole new level of revenge.

Your boyfriend pulls out of you, helping you adjust your panties and the skirt you’re wearing, before he stuffs his dick back into his pants. All while he tries to not laugh out loud. Jisung’s come immediately trickles down into the fabric of your lingerie, making things a little uncomfortable. Still, you have to focus on a very furious ex boyfriend first.

“Sorry, mate, we didn’t know this was your bedroom. Just used whatever’s free,” Jisung says, shrugging his shoulders. You like this new version of him—acting all nonchalant to make Seojun mad.

“You’re… you two, huh?” your ex asks, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You get up, standing next to Jisung now. “What?” you ask.

Seojun walks closer, faux puppy eyes looking at you, “I thought… I thought we could work things out and start over again.” Until his tone switches. “But I guess you’ve been a whore all along.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jisung spits, pulling you closer, until he’s standing in front of you.

“Come on, dude. Don’t act innocent now. You probably know about the weird stuff she’s into.” He makes it sound as if you expect your partners to do hardcore BDSM with you when it’s just… a few probably very common kinks.

“Weird stuff like… actually having an orgasm during sex?” Jisung asks.

Oh, fuck. What a mic-drop worthy moment. You burst out into laughter.

“I… what are you on about? You know what—no. I will not talk about this with you. What I will talk about is that Y/N cheated on me with you.”

You can’t believe he actually thinks that.”

“What? I didn’t cheat on you, idiot. You cheated on me with Nabi, you piece of shit,” you tell him, your voice getting louder by a few decibels.

“Baby… Nabi and I aren’t anything… I promise,” Seojun continues, switching to being all cute again. Or pretending to do so. He looks like a total fool.

You chuckle, “Shit, are you gaslighting yourself like this too?”

“Baby… come on,” he says, reaching for your arm, totally ignoring the man beside you.

“Don’t touch my girlfriend,” Jisung says, slapping Seojun’s arm away.

Your ex looks at him dumbfounded, suddenly ignoring you again when the words register in his head. “Your… your girlfriend?”

“Yeah. Y/N is my girlfriend. I love her,” he says, letting butterflies roam around in your stomach,

Seojun bursts out into a fake laughter. “Aren’t you also her older brother’s best friend? What does he say about that? Hasn’t he always been so protective that Y/N couldn’t even admit to him that she dated me?”

None of you two say anything.

“Oh,” Seojun continues, “he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t know, hm? Well, then I’ll have him find out.”

“Seojun—wait, please don’t tell him,” you immediately say, wrapping your hand around your ex’s wrist and stopping him in his tracks.

He scoffs, “Why would I listen to you?”

“I’m…”

“You owe her that one,” Jisung says, still standing close to you.

“I don’t fucking owe her anything. I don’t owe you anything either,” Seojun replies.

“Stop talking about her as if she isn’t in the room,” Jisung lets out. He doesn’t like the atmosphere your ex creates. Or, well, he doesn’t like him in general.

“Or what? You’re gonna hit me, huh?”

Jisung lets go of you, getting closer to your ex. His hands ball into fists, as he approaches the other man.

But you pull him back. “Ji… don’t… don’t get in trouble because of this idiot.”

Your ex sprints out of the room then, immediately running down the stairs like a coward that’s escaping you. You two follow him through the crowd but immediately lose him. Just when you make it to the centre of the party, you observe Seojun almost pushing the DJ off the stage before he turns off the music and grabs the mic.

Everyone is growling and complaining. What a surprise.

“I’ve got an announcement to make, everyone.” Seojun is laughing like a maniac, fury in his eyes. “Han Jisung just fucked Y/L/N Y/N in my bedroom.”

Everyone is immediately booing him off the stage. Did he really think he would achieve something with this?

This is so fucking embarrassing.

You listen to the responses of the other guests.

“Shut the fuck up, dude. Turn on the music again.”

“Jesus Christ, are we in middle school?”

“No one cares, you idiot.”

“That’s great! Congrats!”

“Does this mean we’ll get more drinks?”

“Can you put the music back on?”

No one cares indeed. Or, perhaps, it was predictable anyway. At least that’s what you believe when you see Hannah across the room and she gives you a thumbs up. Yuna is next to her, with a smile all over her face. Next, you watch Chan and Felix looking your way, applauding. Even Lily—severely drunk—is staring at you, tears in her eyes, total happiness washing over her.

Until you feel someone else’s presence beside you. A hand is pushing you away from your boyfriend, standing between the both of you now.

You turn towards the man, finding your brother.

“You're in fucking big trouble, Jisung,” he says.

#han smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut #stray kids fic recs #skz fic recs #stray kids fic rec #skz fic rec #han fic recs #jisung fic recs #han jisung fic recs #han fic rec #jisung fic rec #han jisung fic rec #stray kids smut #skz smut

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xiubaek13ficrecs · 4 months

Text

Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion | EP. 5 — GRETA OTO

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

“I’ll do anything, Y/N. Whatever it takes for us to be together, okay? Do you trust me?”

You nod, “I trust you, Jisung.”

[ warning ]: anxiety attack, recreational weed consumption, explicit sexual scene [ includes switch dynamics, consensual sex under the influence (both are high), protected sex oral (m receiving), hair pulling, name calling such as doll, baby, pretty boy, ma'am, slut ],

[ words ]: 6.8K

[ note ]: Hellooo I am back with another chapter. Sorry for the cliffhanger lmao it'll make sense now once you read this part. Also, to get rid of any confusion: this story (like all of my fics) will have a happy ending :) If you liked this episode too, I'd be very grateful about any kind reblog, comment, ask or DM!! Also, make sure to read The Experience Project, my other series that is part of the same universe!! Lots of love, Cece 🩷

Your lungs are burning inside your chest from running around the hotel hallway, without a destination, really. You’re aware of Jisung being somewhere behind you, trying to stop you and calm you down but rationality has left your body fully.

You’re in trance, that’s what it always does to you when all those pent up feelings bubble up like a volcano and you can’t hold them back anymore. Setting one foot on the ground before the other one follows, you sprint to the elevator, pushing the button to go down. You’ve got your bag thrown over your shoulder and your phone in your hand.

Once the elevator is finally here, you immediately rush inside and send a quick text to Chan.

[ You ]: Please pick me up from the hotel. I need to go home. I can't do this.

[ You ]: 📍 (your location, visible for 1 hour)

Why is the elevator not going down? You keep smashing the button to the first floor, until you notice someone coming inside.

“Y/N,” Jisung says, tears filling his vision, “it’s okay, you’re safe with me, okay?”

You see it in his eyes—the same type of comfort that j.0ne has been giving you for two months now and that’s when your brain makes that connection again. It’s him. He’s the one who protects you, who you tell all your secrets to.

You’re safe with him.

Jisung catches you right before you fall down on the floor, as your knees give out. Tears start rushing down your face, but he holds you close.

“It’s okay, love, let it all out,” he speaks soothing words, while gently stroking your hair. He smells like peppermint, which calms you down further although you don’t question why it’s like this in the first place. “It’s all fine, you’re not in danger, okay?”

You nod, sniffles filling the metallic walls that are around you. You’re glad that you chose an elevator that no other guest seems to use at this time of the night.

“What do you need now, Y/N?”

Jisung brushes some strands of your hair out of your face, before he swipes away the tears with his thumb. All you do is shrug your shoulders, before the crying takes over you again.

“Hey, hey,” he says, trying to not panic too, “are you okay with going back to our room? Or should I call Hannah? Yuna? Perhaps Lily?”

You shake your head no. You don’t wanna drag them into this, it’s bad enough that you texted Chan. “I… I don’t know what’s happening, Han.”

He keeps rubbing circles on your head, “You’re having an anxiety attack. But this isn’t real, okay? You’re not in danger.”

You nod this time, “Can you help me get up?”

“Of course,” Jisung says before he does what you asked him for.

“Can we…” you start, before you clear your throat, “get back to the room? So I can wash my face?”

Jisung nods and guides the way, throwing an arm around your shoulder to bring you back where you came from. The fresh and cold water helps you a lot and when you get back into the bedroom, Jisung is sitting on the couch, worry in his eyes.

“So, what’s on your mind, Y/N?” he says, once you’ve gotten closer and take a seat right next to him. He leaves enough space between the two of you but never takes his eyes off you.

“I’m… I’m just scared, I guess. I got overwhelmed.”

He nods, “Yeah, anxiety can be a tough one. Please be honest with me—was it anything I said or did? Was it caused by… uhm… something during sex?”

You tilt your head, “I’m not sure. I liked everything, that’s not it! In fact, I enjoyed this like nothing else before. You’re… wow.”

Jisung can’t hide the smirk that’s forming on his face. After all, he didn’t expect a compliment like this right now. “How’s it connected then?”

You let your head sink down, “I don’t know. Maybe… it’s because of everything with my ex. You’re the first one I’ve slept with after the relationship and… it reminded me of how I didn’t feel comfortable with him but feel absolutely comfortable with you now and—fuck, this doesn’t make any sense…”

Jisung keeps looking at you, “It makes total sense, doll. Your brain is confused because it only knows the other state to be in and got overwhelmed by a normal situation, a situation in which you felt comfortable and safe. At least I hope so.”

“I do, I do!”

“You know,” he continues, “that’s why I prepared that bath for you and all. So you can calm down and get back into reality after such a… uhm, session.” Jisung awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

“Oh, okay. I was just overwhelmed because… well, you were planning this date and all because you, j.0ne, like baby_butt3rfly and I suddenly got insecure because I wasn’t the one you were waiting for. It must have been a disappointment to find out you’ve been chatting with me all this time when you don’t even like me,” you explain.

His eyebrows are scrunched, while he throws his arms around. He can’t believe this and he wonders where these insecurities are coming from in the first place, dearly hoping he hasn’t caused them with all the bickering over these past years, “Sure, I don’t like you but I fuck you. That makes no sense.”

“Hate sex exists,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders.

Jisung’s jaw clenches, before he scoots a bit closer. You gulp and try to stay calm when he looks at you like this. “Do you consider what we did hate sex?”

“No… still, you don’t necessarily like me, Han. Everyone knows that,” you add with an awkward chuckle at the end. Why isn’t he grasping what you’re trying to explain here?

He sighs, letting his head fall down. Jisung hasn’t expected to confess to you about all his feelings tonight but if it’s the only way to clear the air and get rid of this weird misunderstanding between you, that��s what he’ll have to do.

“Y/N, listen. You’ve got this all wrong. The truth Is that I–“

Your phone suddenly starts ringing. Fuck. You totally forgot that you asked for help.

“Who’s it?” Jisung asks.

You catch a glimpse at the screen. “Chan. Shit. I hysterically texted him and told him to pick me up.”

“Fuck, then he will probably not give up too soon,” Jisung says, biting his lower lip.

“Should I… should I pick up?”

“Yeah, of course,” he tells you. He doesn’t want your shared friend to get worried, especially not because of him.

You pick up and clear your throat, before you start to speak, hoping to not sound too different, “Hey, Channie. You don’t have to worry, everything is fine again.”

“Are you with him right now?”

Oh, fuck. He’s pissed. You put your phone on speaker.

“Who?”

“The guy you were meeting up with I suppose,” Chan adds.

“Yes… he’s with me. It was nothing, really. I’m safe,” you reassure.

“I wanna talk to him.”

Jisung’s eyes are widening and so are yours.

“What?!”

“You heard me,” Chan insists. “Give him the phone. Otherwise I’ll come pick you up. I’m already in my car and just a few minutes away.”

“O-Okay,” you say, before giving the device to Jisung.

“Hello? Do you hear me?”

Jisung keeps staring at you, fear spreading all over his face. “Y-Yeah, uhm, hi. What is it?”

“What the fuck did you– wait, speak again. I wanna hear your voice,” Chan says. But Jisung is too scared to say anything. Of course, his friend would recognise him. “I’m waiting.” He looks at you, worry in his eyes but you nod in order to encourage him. “Come on, dude.”

“Hi…” is all he says and it’s enough for the older one to put two and two together.

“Hmm, Jisung. Nice to listen to your voice,” he chuckles.

“Hey, Chan,” the younger one says, rolling his eyes.

“So, you’re with Y/N? You’re her date?”

“Y-Yes, I am,” he replies.

“I can trust you, right? Can you tell me what happened?”

He doesn’t even question the fact that you’re spending time with Jisung. That’s a good thing at least.

“She… Y/N had an anxiety attack, unrelated to me, she told me. She’s better now, I promise. She’s safe with me,” he explains.

“Okay, is there anything else I can do to help? Or need to know?”

“I don’t think so…”

You can hear Chan chuckle through the speaker. “Okay. So, you two, huh?”

“Yup. Turns out we were chatting with each other this whole time,” he tells the truth now. It’s out anyway.

“You’re such idiots. And I told her to not meet that guy so you can get together with her instead, playing Cupid and shit,” Chan confesses and you two burst out into laughter. This is hilarious.

“Well, your magic worked, I guess,” you say.

“Jisung? You’ll take care of her, okay? Or else I’ll break your nose, you hear me?”

You hold back another giggle, wishing your brother would react the same way like Chan does when you tell him about this thing between his best friend and you.

“Of course, boss. Have a nice night,” Jisung promises.

“You too,” the other one says before ending the call.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed, if that’s alright,” you announce.

“Yeah, sure,” Jisung says.

Once you’re in the bathroom, you feel a little more at ease again, realising it was the right decision to not run away from your emotions. The shower you take helps you calm down a little further and when you’re done with your skin care routine and brushing your teeth, you enter the bedroom again.

“Hi,” you say, finding Jisung snuggled up under the covers.

“Is it okay to sleep in one bed with me?” he wants to make sure.

You nod, a smile on your face. You get under the blanket too and Jisung stands up, needing a few minutes in the bathroom as well. But when he’s back, he wastes no time to get into bed again. You’re looking at each other, both of you unable to speak first, until Jisung takes the initiative.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah?”

He guides his hand towards your face, the back of it softly brushing your cheek.

“All this time, I was hoping for it to be you,” he confesses.

“W-What?”

You can’t believe this.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed… I’ve had a crush on you for years, Y/N,” he admits, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“But… you kept ignoring me or teased me whenever you had a chance,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah, for several reasons,” he starts explaining. “You’re still my rival in school, that won’t ever change, baby. But then, I’ve realised I can’t be with my best friend’s sister and that’s why I’ve started distancing myself. Whenever I saw you, though, I got mad at myself and took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“You… you like me?” you ask again, hastily blinking while your brain tries to grasp what’s happening right now.

“Of course I like my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. Han Jisung considers you his girlfriend and not his rival anymore. Wow, what an enemies to lovers cliche.

“Han—wait, no. I know that you told everyone that you have a girlfriend because I, or well baby_butt3rfly said that she wants you to become her boyfriend. But… I’m not her,” you remind him.

He scoffs, “You literally are.”

“Still, we can’t be together,” you add, breaking his heart a little.

“Because of Minho?”

You nod.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, Y/N. To gain more of your trust, to give you everything you deserve, okay? I’ll get a fucking star from the sky and give it to you as a gift or whatever you want, just for a chance,” he promises, scooting closer and you let him.

“Where’s all this coming from?”

“Do you not feel the same? Did you only fall in love with j.0ne but not me?”

You sigh, rolling on your back before you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Suddenly, you turn back around, staring at him, “Fuck this, okay? Yes, I like you too, Han. Are you satisfied now?”

“I’m the happiest man on this planet, baby,” he grins.

“How do we do this?”

“What?”

“Whatever this is between us,” you say. Jisung is fine with you not being ready to label this as an official relationship and he’ll wait for you.

“Are you talking about your brother and the shit he says?”

You nod, “Yeah, but not just that. I’m still… damaged from my ex.”

There’s pain in his eyes. Not pity, but empathy. He can’t believe that this guy destroyed your confidence like this when he was in the wrong, just to get together with the girl he told you not to worry about.

“You’re not damaged, Y/N,” Jisung reminds you, as he keeps stroking your face. “He did damage to you, there’s a difference. And I’m patient, okay?”

“Even if it takes me weeks or even months to fully open up to you?” you ask him with big eyes.

“I would wait centuries, well, I’ve had a crush on you for over a decade now, so this seems fairly fast,” he admits.

“Shit, a decade? Me too.”

Jisung places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Maybe it was the stars waiting for the right moment so we can be together.”

“You’re so cheesy…” you snicker.

“Hm, I am.” He adds another kiss on your cheek. “Should we get some rest?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

When you enter your apartment the following day, Yuna is dancing around in the kitchen, already awaiting you.

“Y/N,” she greets you, “tell me everything. You went on a date, right? How was it?”

Where the hell does she get this information from? Well, it’s true, but you haven’t told anyone about it.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, you dressed up all prettily last night and then you went out with a backpack. You met at his place or at a hotel?”

“I’m… uhm…”

Your phone dings, showing a notification from your group chat with your closest friends.

[ Hannah ]: So, Y/N. How was it? How was he? 🤪

[ Lily ]: Did he make you come?? 😏

[ Yuna ]: We need to know everything Y/N 😫😫😫

Of course, your roommate would hop onto this.

[ You ]: What are you guys talking about?

Hopefully they will just drop it but you’re very much aware that this won’t happen any time soon.

[ Lily ]: Don’t tease us. We’re aware you went on a date and stayed the night. Tell us everything please!! 😭🥹🫶🏻

Ah, so Yuna shared her suspicions with everyone. When you tilt your head and look at her, she stares at you with big puppy eyes and mouths a ‘sorry’. You roll your eyes but chuckle anyway. You could never be mad at her or any of your other friends. After all, you know that they’re just excited for you to make some great experience and move on.

[ Hannah ]: Yes, was he good? Was he gentle with you? Paid for everything and bought flowers? 💐

[ Yuna ]: He did buy flowers, guys. Y/N is standing next to me with a huge bouquet in her hands. 😌😌

Your roommate is working against you. Yuna blows a kiss in your direction, before she starts making an iced coffee for you to make up for all the drama. Her phone is placed right next to her, so she can continue reading what is going on in the chat.

[ You ]: It was great tbh 😭 he was amazing in bed and he’s so… perfect, we talked a lot about everything and he makes me feel very safe

[ Hannah ]: That’s great!! Where did you meet again?? 🥹

[ You ]: Online, Discord. Playing video games.

[ Lily ]: Maybe I should start playing this Levanter game too that’s so hyped 🤔

[ Hannah ]: Y/N I’m so happy for you, you deserve all this and the world 😭🫶🏻

[ Lily ]: Will you send us a picture of him?? What does he look like? 😌

Fuck. You almost drop your phone on the kitchen tiles.

[ You ]: Maybe some other time.

Hopefully this will do for now.

[ Hannah ]: Oh, so he’s ugly? I knew something had to be wrong here. 🤨

[ You ]: He’s not ugly… I’ll send one later, okay?

[ Lily ]: I bet it’s someone we know and that’s why she’s so shy about it. 🤪

Your roommate has finished the iced coffee, handing it to you, before she is ready to type again.

[ Yuna ]: Do we know him??

[ You ]: No…

[ Lily ]: I bet it’s Yeonjun 😏

[ Yuna ]: Yeonjun doesn’t play video games

[ Hannah ]: Felix! I bet it’s Felix!! 😌😌

[ Lily ]: Soobin?? He’s a full nerd. 🤓

[ You]: It’s none of them and certainly not Soobin.

[ You:] I have to go now. Need to get this project with Jisung done 🙄🙄

[ Hannah ]: Oh, good luck.

[ Lily ]: Imagine it’s Jisung LMAO 🤣🤣

[ You ]: Funny.

[ Lily ]: I’m sorry, I was joking, I know you would never do that lol 💀

You put your phone away, before you head to your room to get ready for studying with Jisung. Right. Hopefully you’ll be able to get school stuff done, now that your relationship has reached a new level.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, when you walk up the stairs of Jisung’s apartment. You’ve never been here but you two decided to get some of your project done at his place instead of the library—for obvious reasons but also because it’s usually cramped there on a Sunday and you didn’t manage to book a free study room on time. So, rationally, there was no other choice, right?

“Hi,” he greets you with the widest grin when he opens the door.

“Hey,” you say, handing him a plastic bag of what you bought at the convenience store. Jisung hasn’t expected you to bring anything but he’s grateful about it.

“It’s just some snacks and lemonade, to make studying more bearable, you know?”

He nods and invites you inside. After taking off your shoes, your eyes start hovering around in his studio apartment. It’s small but cosy, just like you would have imagined it. Jisung has got some high quality posters of the Levanter video game on his walls as well as some other ones. One of the characters he’s framed is the one you tend to choose when playing and it makes you giggle. Perhaps, you should dress up as your favourite characters one day together.

You plop down on the couch beside him, a few of your snacks and whatever he still has had at home already scattered out on the table.

“So, what do we have?”

“We could finish the theory part today, if we work hard,” you suggest.

Jisung nods, “Yeah, I did some more research and found some interesting perspectives about the topic.”

You manage to work on your project for a solid two hours with small breaks in between, focusing on the tasks you have to do until the next class in a few days. Until said focus leaves your bodies and makes concentrating quite hard.

“Are you hungry?” he suddenly asks.

For you, yes.

“Hm?”

Jisung gets up, grabbing two more cans of lemonade. “Let’s order some food, okay?” He sits down next to you again, before takes a closer look at your face. “You’re stressed, aren’t you?”

You tend to overwork yourself, this is no news for either you or Jisung. But taking a break is probably a good idea.

“A bit, yes. I just want a good grade on this,” you admit.

“And you’ll get that, Y/N. I’ll make sure of it,” he promises, adding a wink after his sentence. You try to hide how flustered you get. It’s very common for the two of you to compete in academic matters. It started in school and when you both decided to major in the same subjects at the same college, everything went downhill. Whenever there’s a debate in class, Jisung will make sure to choose whatever opposite point of view from yours, just to fight against you.

It makes you chuckle, now that you know that he must have done this most of the time because he wanted to get your attention without being suspicious. And because he’s a huge brat.

“What do you usually do to get rid of stress, Han?” you ask him, opting to have a break now too.

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip from the cherry lemonade, “Uhm, play games, smoke weed, well, uhm, look at pics you sent me and jerk off.”

You chuckle, “Wow, I wasn’t aware you’re recycling them and using them more than once.”

“Such beauty should be hung up in the Louvre, baby. Only for my eyes to see though,” he tells you, placing his hand on his chest.

“I’ve never smoked weed before,” you confess. You’re curious what it would feel like, though.

“Oh, you wanna try?”

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “You’re an expert in this, aren’t you?”

“I guess. Wait a second, okay?”

Jisung comes back with a little plastic zip bag and papers, before he sits down next to you again. You start watching him unpack all the supplies, as he is preparing a joint for the two of you now. You’re not fully grasping what it is and you're certainly not someone who romanticises drugs in any way, but there’s something about him doing this forbidden thing that arouses you. You keep your eyes focused on his hands, admiring those pretty fingers and getting reminded how they felt inside of you, stretching you out so–

“You ready, doll?”

His voice dropped low, sounding so husky, you’re not sure if you’re gonna survive this evening.

“Y-Yes,” you say.

“Only if you truly want this, okay? You can always back out. I won’t let you have much anyway, since it’s your first time, alright?”

You nod, “Okay.”

Jisung places the joint between his lips, before he reaches for the lighter that’s placed on the table in front of you and the little fire connects with the tip of the now burning object. He takes a drag, holds it like this in his lungs before he breathes out again, smoke filling the apartment.

He hands you the joint and you reach for it. Sure, you’ve smoked cigarettes before at parties, so hopefully you won’t make a total fool out of yourself. You take a drag, getting used to the taste of it, before you let out the smoke again and give him back the joint.

Jisung takes another drag and you’re eager to have an additional one too, but he doesn’t allow it, “Give it some time, okay? You shouldn’t overestimate yourself, yeah?”

You nod, leaning back on the couch.

“I’ll order some food in the meantime. What would you like?”

“Uhm,” you start, “pizza?”

“Sure,” he says, before fishing out his phone and placing an order online. “Should be here in an hour or less.” Jisung lives in an outer part of the city. Combined with the cheap apartment he has, you wonder how he paid for the expensive hotel room last night. Suddenly, you feel bad about it although it was his idea and he invited you.

“Han?”

“Yeah, baby?” he asks, taking another drag.

“You… I’m not sure if this is rude to ask, I just don’t want to be a burden but… why did you choose that expensive hotel? It’s… it was wonderful, really, but I don’t want you to spend so much–“

“It’s fine, doll,” he chuckles, “I know I don’t have the most spacious place in the most pretty area of the city, but that’s just because I don’t need it. I like to save up the money I earn for important things and the future, you know?”

Okay, that makes sense.

Wait.

He considers you important enough to spend his savings on you.

“Oh, okay. So… I’m not a burden?”

“Baby, you’re a blessing in every aspect of my life,” he says, clicking his tongue.

“When have you gotten like this?”

“Like what?”

“Flirting with me… and all,” you say, becoming shy now.

“I don’t know,” Jisung replies. “Being with you and finally opening up has helped a bit.”

You giggle, “Makes sense.”

“Are you already feeling something?”

You shake your head no, “Not really.”

“Here,” he gives you the joint. You place it between your lips again and Jisung can feel excitement rush down to his dick, when he watches you. It’s twisted and he doesn’t want to romanticise what you two are doing right now, but it gives him the idea of corrupting you in a new way.

You take another drag before you give him back the burning object. The two of you stay like this for a while, until Jisung finishes smoking and puts out the joint. He scoots closer to you, not even hiding the fact that he wants to be near you. You end up cuddling, while he puts on some show on his TV but you’re not even paying any attention. Partly, it’s caused by your head clouding up from the smoke in the room and in your lungs but it might also be because of Jisung. Well, it obviously is because of the latter mostly.

“Have you ever fucked while being high?” Great. Your brain to mouth filter has shut off by now, too. The weed seems to work.

“N-No, I haven’t, actually,” Jisung admits. Fuck. There’s something about you being so straightforward that makes him want to try it, though.

“But you smoke a lot, don’t you? I would have expected this to be your thing,” you say, only realising after speaking how mean that sounded. Jisung is a stoner, yes, but he does have got his life together. It’s not his number one personality trait. That’s already reserved for being a brat.

“I didn’t suggest getting high so you’d sleep with me, Y/N,” he suddenly says.

Your eyes are widening, “Oh my God, this is not what I meant, sorry… I was just… I thought that…”

“Hm, you’re not thinking much right now, doll. I’ve been noticing you staring at my hands,” he teases you.

“I– I’m…”

“It’s okay, baby. And to answer your question—I haven’t had sex while being high yet because I haven’t had sex that much in my life in general,” Jisung admits.

“Oh… did you lose your virginity to me?! This can’t be, you were so…”

“So, what?”

“Perfect. If you were a Sim, you would have reached Woohoo skill level 10.”

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs.

You’re too cringey for Han Jisung now? Wow, the weed has really gotten to your head then.

“Sorry,” you chuckle.

“No, I didn’t lose my virginity to you. I’ve had like three one night stands in my life before you that were all shit. That’s it,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, I'm sorry. You were my second, by the way,” you confess.

“You only… only with your ex?”

“Hm, and you. So it’s easy to forget about whatever was before that when you’re this good,” you compliment him. Jisung throws his head back, sensing the feeling caused by smoking. Or it’s because you keep staring at him like this. So awaiting. Demanding. Aroused.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask.

He shakes his head, bringing his index finger to your lips, “Shh, you’re stressing me again.”

“Stressing you? What? Why?”

Is the weed not working for him? His eyes are so red, you thought he would be as high as you by now.

“With that pretty smile… you rarely smile, Y/N. So when you do it exclusively for me, it gets my hopes up high,” he explains, not taking his eyes off your mouth. His thumb keeps brushing over it and you part your lips.

“Your hopes up high?”

“Hm, for us to do this in public one day.” He kisses you on the cheek. “For me being able to call you my girlfriend… baby, tell me, what does it need for me to be able to do that?”

You look at him. “Weren’t you the one to make promises last night?”

“What are you referring to?”

“You mentioned things like gaining my trust, finding a solution for Minho and giving me a star as a gift,” you remind him.

“I’ll do all of that. I promise,” he says. “Can I kiss you?”

“Do it,” you let out.

His lips crash into your own and you immediately sense how desperate he is for you. What a great thing you’re reciprocating those feelings. Jisung’s tongue asks for entrance and you allow him just that. You smirk against him, your hands reaching for his neck. You throw your arms around, fingers starting to play with his hair.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so needy, aren’t you?”

“Same counts for you,” you whisper, in between breaths. You decide to take the lead then, when you scoot closer and hover your body in his lap. Jisung looks at you with his mouth agape, big eyes staring at you, as if he didn’t expect you to be so straightforward.

“Getting shy, hm?”

He shakes his head no, “G-Go on.”

“I like this version of you, you know?”

“Which version?”

“The desperate one. The one that will do anything I tell him,” you say, beginning to create a path of kisses down his neck, before you reach his chest. Slipping your hands under his shirt, you help him out of the fabric. Everything is happening rather fast but you don’t mind.

You scoot down, getting up from his lap again, before you decide to stay between his legs, right between the sofa and the table. Jisung stares at you with awaiting eyes, his finger under your chin. But he can’t be dominant right now. Whatever the hell that is. You’re possessing his mind. It’s you who’s looking up at him with big doll-like eyes, as if you’re asking to make him feel good.

“What? You’re gonna beg for it, pretty boy?”

Oh, plot twist. You’re not trying to be submissive here. Or you’re playing the brat. Who knows. That’s what Jisung loves about the dynamic with you. It’s so versatile, he can tell although it’s just your second time with him.

“Once we start you’ll be the only one begging, I promise,” he whispers.

“We’ll see about that, baby,” you reply with a wink. Your hands land on his thighs, before they move upwards, starting to fumble with his belt. He leans back, taking in that beautiful view that he’s granted. Sure, he’s got pretty girls sucking his dick before, but nothing comes close to your hungry eyes, impatiently waiting to get a taste of him.

He realises why it’s that way. Jisung has got a connection with you. A very multifaceted connection but it’s there. The most important part of it being the fact that he’s in love with you. Of course, no one will ever come close to anything that you do.

You slide his pants down, revealing how neglected his dick must feel trapped inside the tight boxers. You almost have pity for him. Jisung is still staring down at you, waiting for the next move.

Deciding to get rid of his underwear too, you waste no time and get to work with it. His cock springs free, painfully hard. Your hand circles around his erection, before you slowly start pumping him. He’s losing his mind from all the teasing, you can see it in his eyes.

“You sure you want this, Y/N? Despite being high?”

You nod, “It’s not a want, it’s a need, Han.”

He chuckles. “Then come on, doll, do something.”

You scoot closer, before a string of saliva collides with his tip. You smear it all over his length, as you continue stroking him.

“Beg for it,” you demand.

And Jisung surrenders. “Please, Y/N, have mercy with me.”

After a little chuckle spills from your lips, you start licking his length, adding a long stripe to his shaft first. You make sure to keep eye contact, right before you take him into your mouth. Jisung watches your head bob up and down, as his own falls back.

“Fuck, I’ve always known, baby,” Jisung speaks between moans, “that you’d look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, right?”

He’s gripping the blanket that’s laying on the sofa with one hand, while the other one comes close to your head. Jisung is tugging your hair, guiding you up and down the way he enjoys.

“Yeah, come on, make a mess. Make me feel good, yeah?”

You’re drooling all over him and the moans you let out get transformed into vibrations that send him straight to heaven. Jisung has never gotten this close so fast. With anyone. Neither the other women that tried to make him feel good nor alone. You’re out of this world.

“Shit—fuck, I’m close, I’m close, Y/N, please, I’m–“

You enjoy the switch in his demeanour once he’s getting to his orgasm. He sounds so helpless and pathetic, you could get used to it. Which is why you decide to pull his cock out of your mouth, staring up at him, your hand wrapped around his length again.

“When you come for the first time, it’ll be inside my cunt, okay?” you say with a low voice.

“Fucking hell… please, ma’am,” he says, before he gets up and helps you with it too. He doesn’t even care that he’s bare naked while you’re fully dressed again. For some reason, he might discover a new kink here. Jisung guides you to his bed that’s just a few meters away from his couch but much more comfortable.

He is quick to hover your shirt over your head, before your bra lands on the floor next. Just like him. He’s on his knees for you all suddenly. And you wonder if your reaction rate is so low because of the weed or because of this forbidden scene.

You feel kisses erupt on your belly, as they travel upwards. Jisung takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, pinching the other one with two of his fingers. His free hand is busy sneaking under your dress, squeezing your thigh. But you need him now. Inside of you. No more teasing. Which is why you grab his head and make him look up at you.

“Get on the bed,” you tell him and he follows suit, having the most mischievous smirk on his face that you’ve ever noticed up until this day. It feels as if he’s getting exactly what he’s asked for.

You pull down your skirt and your panties follow, before you crawl on the mattress and into his lap. Jisung is instantly playing with your tits again, waiting for you to make the next move.

You chuckle, “Condom?”

“Top drawer. Wait—don’t you want me to stretch you first?”

“It’s okay, I can’t wait. Your cock can stretch me,” you tell him with a wink and he just sits there, mouth agape.

You reach for his nightstand table and fish out a condom, unwrapping it and guiding it into his hard length. After you get into a comfortable position, you align his tip with your aching hole and drop down a few centimetres.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, sinking down further, letting him fill you up.

It feels as if everything is more intense than it usually is. Maybe it’s the weed. Maybe it’s the fact you’re with Jisung, in his apartment, in his bed. Maybe it’s because you’ve been talking more and being more open with him. Maybe it’s a combination of all of those options.

“Biiiig stretch, baby, come on. You can do it,” he encourages you, stroking your back.

“‘S too much,” you say, shaking your head. “But feels so fucking good, I don’t wanna stop.”

He chuckles, telling you to take your time. “That’s why I wanted to prepare you first. But you’re an impatient little slut, aren’t you?”

Oh, fuck. He really wants you dead. Hearing those degrading words from him just arouses you more and it gives you—weirdly enough—strength to move further. Once you’re adjusted to the feeling of having him inside of you, you start moving up and down slowly.

“It’s okay, I’m getting used to it. Fuck. Feels so good, baby.”

“Go on, doll. Ride my dick,” he tells you, leaning back. Jisung’s hands are placed on your hips, occasionally moving further to squeeze your ass.

“Nothing better than that,” you say, picking up your pace a little. It’s exhausting being on top, you kind of underestimated this. After all, your ex never wanted you to be in a position like this, thinking it’ll harm his fragile masculinity for some reason.

“F-Feels so good, Jisung.” The words keep spilling from your lips in between little whimpers and moans. The man underneath you has his hands on your hips again, helping you move while he thrusts into you from below you. All while he’s trying to not lose his mind over the fact that you didn’t call him Han for once.

“Yeah, that’s right. Say my name, baby,” he tells you.

At this point, Jisung is doing most of the work, if you’re honest. But you don’t mind. You like the illusion of having the upper hand in this.

“You fill me up so well… God, I’m gonna come,” you announce.

Jisung keeps rutting into you from underneath, while you fall forward, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re such a good slut for me, doll,” he whispers into your ear.

And then he feels it. You’re tightening around him, squeezing his hard cock, cageing him in.

“Did you just clench around me? When I called you a slut?”

You nod, “Hmm, fuck.”

There’s no point in denying. You can’t hold back any longer. The feeling is too intense and your brain is long gone. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is to be blamed on the weed or the scene itself. But it doesn’t really matter anyway. The fact is that Jisung is making you feel good as no one else could ever do. And you’re ready to live with whatever consequences life hands you, as long as you can be with him like this forever.

“Then come on, baby. Show me what a good slut you can be,” is all he needs to say to make you tip over the edge. Further encouraging words spill from his lips, while he helps you through your high. Your legs are shaking, high pitched moans are filling his small studio apartment and you’re sure some neighbour is gonna file a complaint but you don’t care and neither does Jisung.

His own climax gets triggered in the process, when your pussy walls keep clenching around him, as he fills the condom with his release. Once you’ve both calmed down, Jisung tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling his cock slowly softening inside you. You get up and drop on the bed next to him. He’s fast to place the covers over your exposed bodies, pulling you towards him.

“I’ll do anything, Y/N. Whatever it takes for us to be together, okay? Do you trust me?”

You nod, “I trust you, Jisung.”

And that’s when he knows that you’re speaking the truth.

After dinner—the delivery pizza—some more talks and another round of sex that probably made his walls shake, Jisung and you fell asleep in his bed, absolutely exhausted and sober again.

Still, he wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling your body clinging to him just like you did in the hotel. He realises that he’s hungry again—or just in the mood for a midnight snack—which is why he tries his best to be as quiet as possible when he sneaks out of the bed and walks to his little kitchen that’s located in the same room, obviously.

Some leftovers do and he’s glad that you’re sleeping through it despite the little noises he makes. When he’s back to where you are, he notices your phone screen lighting up. Jisung doesn’t want to look. It’s none of his business. But his eyes were there when it happened. So, he might just read the notifications.

[ Seojun ]: Hi, Y/N. This is probably a bad idea and I know you don’t wanna hear anything from me. But I miss you. Like a lot. I regret breaking up with you. Do you think we could try again?

What?

It’s Seojun? Seojun is your ex?

He can’t believe it’s someone he knows.

[ Seojun ]: I’ll be at Yeonjun’s party next Friday. Maybe we can meet there and talk a little? I’m sure you’ve missed me too, haven’t you? ❤️

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xiubaek13ficrecs · 4 months

Text

Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion | EP. 4 — ANARTIA AMATHEA

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

“Jisung…” you curse yourself for calling him by his name. “Please, finish what you started.”

“Whatever you ask for, baby,” he says. “Come on, spread your legs for me. Be a good girl, will you?”

[ warning ]: explicit sexual scene [ includes switch dynamics, protected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), slightest spit play, (1) pussy slap, name calling such as doll, baby, good boy, praise kink ], consumption of alcohol and cigarettes, anxiety attack

[ words ]: 6.8K

[ note ]: Spoiling you with the next chapter very soon since I didn't post one last week. I hope you will enjoy it :) If you liked this episode too, I'd be very grateful about any kind reblog, comment, ask or DM!! Also, make sure to read The Experience Project, my other series that is part of the same universe!! Lots of love, Cece 🩷

“Answer me, Y/N,” your brother repeats, his voice filled with anger. “Are you in there with Jisung?!”

Your heart stops. At this very moment. It’s ridiculous, really. You don’t even get why Minho has any issue with anything potentially happening between his best friend and you. You’re adults. Basically, Jisung and you have hated each other your whole life, but the pretty marks on your neck that he’s created there just mere seconds ago might beg to differ.

The man who’s inside the little room with you instantly sees the panic in your eyes, all while he’s trying his best to not lose his own mind. He’s never wanted to go this far. Never. But how can he resist when you look at him like this? When you’re the one he wants to hold, to cherish, to love for the rest of his life?

Okay, God, no need to get sentimental. It’s not like Minho’s gonna kill him when he finds him in here with his little sister, right?

“Open the fucking door, Han,” Minho spits from the other side of the room.

Your jaw clenches and your eyes widen, while they search for the gaze of the man in front of you.

“Hey, listen to me,” Jisung whispers, “this sounds ridiculous but there’s a hidden connection from this storage room to Hyunjin’s bathroom. Here, behind the boxes.”

He’s been here a couple of times before, although he’s not Hyunjin’s biggest fan. However, he remembers this weird but useful detail of the floor plan of this unit.

“You want me to just sneak into the bathroom and pretend I wasn’t in here with you? What if I walk in on someone?” you talk back.

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, “Well, it’s either this or facing the consequences of talking to your brother. And by that I mean that I die.”

“I’m sure there’s a way we can explain–“

“I’d love to live, Y/N,” he interrupts you, his voice sounding way more serious than you think would be necessary. You’re sure you can solve this like adults. “He made a stupid agreement with me when we were teenagers, that you were off the table.”

How… dumb.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” you say, scrunching your eyebrows together. Why on earth would they do that? And it lets your mind wander further—why did they even have to make that in the first place? Was there ever a threat of Jisung going that far?

“Yeah, I know, but we don’t have any seconds left to discuss this, come on, go to that damn bathroom,” he tells you.

It seems as if you have no choice. No matter how much you hate Jisung and how stupid your brother is, if they make a dumb contract like this, it’s their issue to solve.

“Okay, okay, boss. Then you go handle him on your own, Jesus Christ.”

You slowly push the boxes aside and crawl over them, trying to make as little noises as possible. Guardedly, you open the hidden door that is supposed to lead you to the bathroom. When you tilt your head a bit, taking a last glimpse at Jisung, he winks at you and blows a kiss in your direction. You roll your eyes and disappear.

A second later, you’re standing inside the bathroom, all the lights turned on.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Can a man not cry alone in his own bathtub?” the owner of the apartment says.

“Fucking hell, Hyunjin, what on earth are you doing here?”

Your friend is sitting there, a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other that he must have forgotten to light. You pull out a lighter from your dress’ pocket and hand it to him. Hyunjin thanks you with a nod before he brings the flame to the object that’s placed between his lips.

“I could ask you the same,” he says, taking a drag. “Was Jisung so bad at fucking that you had to escape?”

“No, you idiot,” you say, nudging him playfully. “My brother cockblocked the whole thing and he can’t see me with his best friend under any circumstances.”

“Ah, okay,” he says. “I hope you didn’t make a mess in my storage room.”

Hyunjin and your friendship is… you don’t even know. You’re not that close and he flirts with you too much for you to not get annoyed about it—especially considering that he’s dating the girl that your brother seems to like—but he’s a creative mind like you are. A bit dramatic, but that’s a nice contrast to your other friends. It’s easy to talk to him about any topic.

“And what are you doing? Isn’t this supposed to be your welcome back party?” you question him.

“Hm, the girl I love just broke my heart,” Hyunjin says, staring in the distance.

“Felix’s roommate?”

“Yup. I’m too drunk to question why you know that she likes me,” he giggles, taking another drag from his cigarette, “but, yup, I fucked things up. I’m an immature idiot that isn’t ready yet for anything serious and I took it out on her. She likes you brother by the way. But someday I’ll manage to move on and be happy for them.”

“Wow,” you reply, “I’ve never heard such… wise words coming from your mouth.”

He doesn’t reply to your sentence but smiles when he randomly says, “Jisung likes you, you know.”

You roll your eyes, “I take my last sentence back.”

“Anyone can tell, Y/N. You guys are a perfect match,” Hyunjin adds, genuinely meaning it. “I might not be good at this… feelings thing and I apologise for sending that incomprehensible text last night—I was drunk—but go for it. Trust me.”

“You’re very trustworthy, Hyunjin, especially right now,” you sarcastically reply.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts and I’m a genius,” he says, holding his arms up, right before he accidentally slides down a bit and lands with his back on the cold bathtub surface.

You hold back a laugh, before you get up and reach for his arm. The cigarette is still dangling from his mouth, when you bring him back to a sitting position.

“Thanks for the talk, Hyunjin. I’m gonna go outside now and face my brother,” you announce, rolling your eyes. He gives you a soft smile and waves at you, before he watches you exit the bathroom.

At the other side of the door is a very angry Minho. You get that he’s overwhelmed with everything that’s been happening, especially tonight with his girl and Hyunjin. However, he doesn’t deserve to take that anger out on you.

“What do you think you’re doing? In there? With Hyunjin? After that asshole betrayed me like–“

“I was just there for him, chill,” you spit back.

“Hm, because that bastard deserves that,” Minho says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. At least he doesn’t suspect anything between you and Jisung anymore, as it seems.

“Your love life isn’t any of my business, okay? But Hyunjin is my friend and because of that, I will hold him accountable for the mistakes he makes so he can learn from them. It’s called communication. You should try it, Minho,” you tell him, hoping he catches the hint.

Your brother rolls his eyes and guides the two of you to the front door, “Whatever, I’ll bring you home.”

Talking to Jisung would be great. There’s so much left unspoken but you’re, first, not ready yet and, second, don’t plan on drawing any suspicion again. So, you decide to just follow your brother and call it a night. No matter how abrupt it is.

“Why did you come back anyway?”

“I thought… I thought she was still here,” Minho admits.

“Oh, okay. I hope you guys can solve things,” you tell him, meaning it.

“I’m sure we can,” your brother says with a hopeful smile. “So, Jisung and you? Nothing happened?”

You gulp but he doesn’t notice. “No, there’s nothing between us. I’m disgusted that you would even think that.”

“Glad to hear the world hasn’t fully turned upside down yet,” your brother jokes before he guides you out of the door.

In the corner of your eyes, you find Jisung standing there, looking at you with those big brown puppy eyes. He will be the death of you. And you will be the death of him.

“So, you’re sure there’s nothing going on between you and my sister?”

Jisung has been on Minho’s balcony for five minutes and it’s been feeling like a full interrogation since the beginning.

“Why are you even asking that, Minho?”

Well, there is a reason he’s asking that. And Jisung is aware of it. Still, he tries to gain some time with his questions.

“Because when I came back to the party looking for… you know who, Yeonjun said that you and Y/N disappeared to the storage room,” he explains.

God, why did Yeonjun have to tell Minho that?

“Yeah, because of Truth or Dare,” Jisung says, playing it cool while losing his mind on the inside.

“Well, did something happen or not?” Minho questions him, staring into his eyes. It’s been some years since they talked about a potential relationship between you and Jisung. When they were teens, Minho caught up on the fact that Jisung had a crush on you—that’s when they made their contract. Since that day, your brother’s best friend wasn’t allowed to think of you as anything more than Minho’s little sister anymore. Maybe that’s why he kept distancing himself, apart from the rivalry that’s been there for over fifteen years now.

“Why are you so interested in this?” he asks him, genuinely trying to figure this out. There’s no way that Minho still views this whole situation like he used to when they were teens. He understood his reasons back then—you’re his younger sister, Jisung is his best friend. If things didn’t work out—how it usually is between teenagers—Minho would be in the most shitty situation, especially if it ended on bad terms.

But you’re grown ups now. And Jisung knows that he would never break your heart if you would let him conquer it.

Besides that, he can’t control that he fell for you twice. Which is embarrassing enough. He still can’t believe that you obviously have to be the girl from the Discord server and the fact that he developed feelings for you again has to prove a point, right?

“Because she’s my sister, Han, I don’t want her to… to get hurt,” Minho explains.

“Oh, so you don’t trust me, hm?”

“That’s not what I meant. She’s never had a boyfriend before and–“

“You’re still playing older protective brother? There’s nothing going on between us, okay? And I get that you want to protect her because you love her. But she’s an adult. She’s living her life and I’m sure you only know half of whatever she’s doing with men,” Jisung defends you. Minho doesn’t even know the whole story about your ex, he realises too.

“God, you make it sound as if I’m a control freak. She told me about her crush, by the way. Some guy she’s been chatting with. I reacted very normally to that. And I don’t want you to confuse her when she’s already with someone that seems to be very good to her,” Minho explains further.

The younger one holds back a chuckle. He’s competing against himself. God, if Minho only knew. Well, Jisung is still in shock too although in the back of his mind he isn’t surprised. It all makes sense now.

“So you want a best brother of the year award? What’s this about?”

Minho rolls his eyes, “Forget what I said. Just remember that we had an agreement. And seeing my sister happy the way she’s been acting whenever she’s texting on her phone has made me so happy too. Don’t go and destroy whatever she’s been building up with that mysterious guy.”

“Hm, sure. I don’t understand this, but sure…” Jisung says, rolling his eyes.

“The agreement, Han,” Minho reminds him. “You promised me to never get involved with her because… what if you guys don’t work out? Am I supposed to decide between my best friend and my sister? I’m not playing protective alpha brother, but I’m having a rational view on this situation.”

Jisung gets his point. He truly gets it. But it’s so unfair that Minho decides over a situation that involves mainly Jisung and you that could happen. This isn’t even real. They’re arguing about something that isn’t real. Maybe Minho should change his major and study philosophy.

“A situation that doesn’t exist, okay? I told you, there’s nothing between us,” Jisung reminds him. Because technically there isn’t, right? It was just some kiss. Sure, you confessed your feelings for his online persona, but this doesn’t mean that you like the real Jisung too.

“Okay, good. That’s all I needed to hear,” his best friend finally says.

“Great. Now that we solved that, we’re gonna talk about the actual reason for you anger?”

“What do you mean?”

“The whole Hyunjin scene. Your girl,” Jisung reminds him.

“It’s nothing,” Minho replies, avoiding eye contact.

“Jesus Christ, go talk to her, Min,” his best friend tells him, unable to watch the suffering playing in front of his eyes.

Jisung knows that his best friend might project his anger on his best friend. It’s not fair, that’s for sure. But he will help him out of this.

You’re almost done with packing your stuff. Even twelve hours later, you still can’t believe what happened last night. Jisung and you kissed. No, screw that. You made out, his fingers went under your dress and inside of you.

By now you’re pretty sure that he’s j.0ne. And you’re also sure that he knows that you’re baby_butt3rfly.

Your brain still needs some time to process this whole thing.

Jisung was the one to text you on Discord first. Jisung was the one who was there for you during nights of you crying about Seojun. He is the one who’s made you come almost every night during the past weeks. He is the one you send all your nudes to. Jisung is the one that you subtly asked to be your boyfriend.

Wait…

This also means that the drunk girl he took care of was… was you.

You were jealous of yourself this whole time?

This is the dumbest shit of the century. And absolutely hilarious.

The 99% chance of j.0ne and Jisung being the same person is what keeps your mood up high and your feelings confused. You don’t wanna think further for now. Not rush things, don’t read too much into it. Future-Y/N can deal with the consequences of tonight.

All you need are two things—first, meet j.0ne in real life to finally see his true identity, second, allow him to continue where you left off last night and let him rail you into oblivion.

You’re gonna have sex with Jisung. Your brother’s best friend. The man you’ve been crushing on for possibly ten years now. Your longtime rival and so-called enemy. God, this feels as if you’re caught in the most cliche fanfic.

You reach for your phone once you’re done with packing and read the latest message you received.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: Let’s meet in the hotel room. Finish what we started.

You chuckle.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Fine. I’ll go there first. Just come in once you’re there.

When you enter the hotel that j.0ne has chosen for you, you wonder where that guy gets his money from but you don’t question it. It’s amazing, definitely the most astonishing place you’ve ever been to for a night. Once you reach the hotel’s reception, a kind woman greets you and hands you the keys after you mention your name.

Entering the elevator, you finally get a minute to yourself, able to catch your breath.

You’re meeting him.

If the unlikely situation occurs that j.0ne isn’t who you suspect him to be, you dearly hope things won’t get awkward. But with the way he texted, you’re sure it’s Jisung.

You open the wide wooden doors of your assigned room and step inside, letting your eyes hover over the beautiful furniture and decor. Everything is amazing here and seems so fucking expensive. You’re usually not someone who gets impressed by such things but since you haven’t expected it, it leaves you speechless now.

Putting your stuff on the sofa, you notice there’s obviously only one bed. This is supposed to be a date with very pleasant extras after all. You don’t feel as if this is rushing things. After all, j.0ne and you have been closer to each other than one would expect. Sure, only over screen and with a secret identity, not showing your faces and all, but the time you spend with him—both romantically and sexually—is the most intimate encounter you’ve ever had. Which is crazy.

You sit down on the other sofa, looking out the window.

Until there’s a knock coming from the door.

“Come in,” you say, once again being naive as fuck but it can only be him, right?

The door slightly opens and he takes his time for it. When you turn around you’re not even surprised anymore.

It’s him.

Han Jisung.

He’s standing there, looking at you with that mischievous smile. Carrying a bouquet of an odd number of roses in his arm, he walks towards you and hands you the flowers.

“Hi,” is all he manages to let out, severely nervous.

“Hey,” you reply, “t-thank you for these.”

He nods, biting his lower lip.

You’re wearing a pretty dress again, a dark one of course, combined with those fishnet tights. The butterfly necklaces wrapped around your neck, bringing Jisung’s full attention to it.

“What a surprise,” he says, knowing it’s not.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confess. You’re totally confused. This moment doesn’t feel real, but similar to all the dreams you’ve had that featured Jisung. You wonder what he’s got planned as a date. Of course, if he still wants to go on a date. You know that he likes your online persona, butt3rfly_baby but regarding Y/N? That you are not so sure of. If it was the case he wouldn’t have treated you as his enemy for the past years.

Always bumping into you in the school’s hallway, leaving you out in conversations about Levanter, you’re favourite video game, making fun of you whenever he gets the chance. How’s this supposed to work? Can this even work out?

“What’s on your mind?”

You blink a few times, “I– I’m–“

“Should I leave? Do you feel uncomfortable with me here?” Jisung asks in a small voice and you’ve never seen him so… insecure. Not even when the other men made fun of him at parties over and over again for being inexperienced. Meanwhile, he manages to make a woman come with his soothing words and his husky voice, without even touching her.

God, why does your brain instantly need to go that way?

“Stay here,” you say, reaching for his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it and pulling him closer. “Shall we finish what we started, Han? Or should I say, J?”

You click your tongue, as you walk further towards him.

“That’s up to you, doll,” he provokes you back. Fuck, hearing that pet name out loud again makes your thighs all weak. A sensation is building up in your lower stomach. Just from this stupid word.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head.

He chuckles. Jisung reaches under your chin with his index finger, making you look at him. “Can you handle it?”

“Sure, I can,” you scoff.

Although you’re not sure. J.0ne has left you absolutely speechless and exhausted after every video session that you’ve had. And now he’s here, in real life, and you know quite well that this guy has some intense stamina and the prettiest dick that you’ve been waiting for to have inside of you—no matter your mouth or your cunt, at this point you don’t care. As ashamed as you are to admit it, but you even would have had allowed him to fuck you against the shelves of Hyunjin’s storage room last night.

Calm down, Y/N. Slow down a bit, too. It’s getting pathetic.

“You’ve been warned,” Jisung says, bringing you back to real life but not giving you any second to react to what he said. His lips collide with your own, as he pulls you closer, his hands placed on your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh, only separated by the fabric of your dress. You fully give in, instantly being back to where you left off last night.

Should you talk things out first? Probably.

Has Jisung planned a romantic date for the girl he’s been texting for two months now? Absolutely.

But you two are too eager for each other and everything else can wait, right?

You’re the one to take the initiative this time, when your tongue enters his mouth, entangled with his own. Jisung smirks, letting you have his way with him, when you slowly guide him towards the bed. You’re insane. In the best way possible. He’s never been with a woman who’s had such an effect on him and he wonders if that’s just all the built up tension that’s been slumbering inside the two of you for so many years.

Spoiler: it absolutely is.

He lands on the mattress, before Jisung watches you take a seat in his lap, straddling his thighs.

“Doll,” he says, but doesn’t manage to finish his sentence when you start grinding on top of him. The material of your panties is rubbing over his pants, as you feel his hardening bulge that’s begging to be freed.

“Shouldn’t we talk first?” he asks in between kisses.

You chuckle, “Probably should. But I need you to fuck me first, Han.”

You’re still calling him by his surname. Something dark awakens inside of him at this moment—he’s gonna have you squirm underneath him, scream his name at the top of your lungs, his actual name.

“Don’t call me by that name,” he warns you.

You scoff, “I call you whatever I want.”

Your lips wander further, passing his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, before you start placing the most beautiful pattern on his collarbones, opening a few buttons of his shirt. And he lets you. Jisung is entering a state that forces him to surrender, to fully give in to whatever you’re willing to grant him. And he’ll thank you for it.

“Fuck, feels good,” he whispers, his voice dropping low.

You smirk, loving the way he reacts to your little movements. However, this is all part of his plan. Some little piece of rationality catches him, makes him gain power over his own thoughts again at that moment.

Jisung grabs you by the waist and manhandles you around as if you weigh nothing, watching your back hit the mattress.

“What the fuck was that for?”

You stare at him with wide eyes, as he’s hovering above you.

He smirks, “You think you’re in charge, doll?”

“Don’t think I’ll do whatever you want just because I sent you some nudes and facetimed with you when I was horny,” you tell him. You still can’t imagine Jisung in such a dominant perspective if he’s usually the brattiest brat to ever exist. But J.0ne, though…

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” he replies with a wink, before his lips collide with your neck.

“What do you– oh, God,” you breathe out, letting him have his way with you. More kisses bloom on your skin, while he’s wandering south.

“You can call me Jisung, that’s just as fine, baby,” he says, sliding down further, before he pulls down your tights and discards them. He spreads your legs and you follow suit, revealing your soaked panties to him. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but the real life version of your pretty pussy is the most beautiful view his eyes have ever witnessed. He wants to take a mental note of it, so he can replay this work of art whenever he feels like it.

You immediately start gripping the sheets, when his tongue collides with your ruined underwear, making it even wetter than it already is. Jisung isn’t surprised about how easily you get aroused—he’s seen those drenched panties in your videos before.

“Fucking hell, do something, Han,” you tell him, your voice getting louder and more desperate.

He looks up at you, a few strands of his hair covering his forehead, almost hiding his eyes, “Nah, what’s my actual name, Y/N?”

“J? You want me to call you J? Or moan your gamertag? J.0ne? I didn’t expect you to be that much of a–“

“Jisung,” he grunts. “Call me Jisung, when you come on my tongue, you get that?”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever. As if you’d ever manage to make me come.”

“I have before, Y/N. Without even touching you,” Jisung reminds you. “So aren’t you curious what it’ll be like if you get the whole package, hm?”

You are. You absolutely are dying to know what it feels like although you’d be too ashamed to admit that. He’s Han. Your academic rival and all. The guy you don’t get along with and still probably have had a crush on for at least ten years now.

So, you whisper, “Go for it, Han.”

He rolls his eyes but starts anyway. His fingertips start grazing over your covered wetness, making a full mess out of your underwear. It’s some type of red lingerie again, you seem to own many of those and he’s already contemplating how to take this pair home with him without you noticing it. Oh, fuck. His brain is already turning into mush, simply because he’s so close to you, about to devour your pussy as if it’s his last meal.

You let out a gasp when he shoves the panties aside, not bothering to take them off. Jisung spreads your pussy lips apart, admiring the view once again, before you feel a string of saliva hit your bundle of nerves. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those fantasies that your ex made you feel bad for. Who would have thought that it’s gonna be Han Jisung to turn those dreams into reality?

“Come on, don’t make me wait any longer,” you tell the man between you thighs, one of your hands reaching for his curly hair. It’s grown long, long enough for you to almost turn a few strands into a makeshift ponytail. You guide him closer and all that bastard does is smirk and lick his lips, before he dives right in.

The first touch is hypnotising, as if you’re entering another dimension. The tip of his tongue is glued to your clit, before he starts moving it in circles, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. Well, he has. In his mind, of course.

Out of reflex, you part your legs further, giving him better access. Your fingers are playing with his hair, moving Jisung’s head the way you enjoy most and all he does is follow suit.

“You can be a good boy, after all. Finally found a way to shut you up,” you grunt, hiding your moans.

He lets go of you.

“Stop teasing me or you’re not gonna come at all,” he says, darkness swirling around in his eyes.

Faster than you manage to react, he dives right in again, making out with your cunt once again. Two of his fingers are now lazily circling around your entrance and you know he’s doing this for payback.

Fuck. You hate him. You hate that guy so much and still you allow him to have you like this, to make you feel good.

Maybe hate isn’t as fitting anymore.

But destiny doesn’t give you much time to contemplate further, when Jisung pushes two of his digits into your hole, knowing you will be able to handle it. You immediately clench around him, as your pussy sucks his fingers in. He starts with slow thrust, making it his number one goal to drive you insane tonight.

“Say my name and I’ll let you come, doll,” he tells you.

But you won’t give in. You shake your head no and he continues, curling his fingers inside you to search for that spot that you always find in all those videos you sent him. When he brushes that velvety part for the first time, you fear you might see stars soon. You arch your back and Jisung decides to throw his principles out the window, when his fingers pick up their pace.

He’s scissoring you open without any mercy, watching you get closer and closer to the edge. Meanwhile, that intense feeling inside your stomach increases and threatens to take over your body and mind.

And then he lets go.

“When you come for the first time, it’s gonna be around my dick, okay?”

All you’re able to do is nod, brain already foggy. And Jisung senses it. He panics for a bit, unsure if he should go further with you.

“Hey, Y/N? You’re still with me?”

You nod again, “Yeah. No worries.” You’re just in trance, but in a good way. You’ve never expected him to be so good at this.

“You wanna keep going? Need a break?”

You shake your head, “No, please, go on. I need you.” You sound so desperate, Jisung is afraid he might come in his pants.

He closes his eyes so you don’t notice him rolling them to the back of your head. It’s like you flipped a switch inside of him, as he feels himself getting more and more emotional. This is not what he planned. He’s already too deep in this mess anyway. Jisung shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be so close to you regarding the fact you’re his best friend’s little sister.

But why does it feel so goddamn right if it’s supposed to be wrong?

“Jisung?”

You called him by his name.

“Huh?”

Your thumb starts caressing his face, “Are you okay, though? We can stop whenever you need.”

“I’m fine. Really,” he tells you with a sincere smile. “Wanna continue?”

You click your tongue, “Finish what you started, will you?”

Jisung gets up from the bed for a second and walks to his backpack, fishing out a condom. His shirt gets discarded on the sofa next and his pants follow quickly. He rips the packaging open with his teeth.

Once he’s at the edge of the bed, you start watching him palm his hard erection through his boxers. Nothing you haven’t seen before. But so much better than the video version.

The fabric falls down, pools around his ankles until he kicks it away and walks towards you. The mattress shifts, when he crawls back on it, coming closer to you, bare naked. While you’re still wearing your clothes.

You seem to read his mind, when you hover your dress over your head, getting rid off your bra a second later. You leave the panties on and Jisung doesn’t seem to mind, it’s more of the opposite.

“Beg for it,” he says with a stern voice, positioning himself between your legs.

You scoff, “I’m not gonna beg for you, Han.”

“Alright. Then I’ll just grab my clothes and–“

“No, no! Wait, wait,” you immediately say, reaching for his wrist.

“Yeah, baby? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Please…” you look at him with big doe eyes.

“Please, what? Use your words, doll. It’s nothing you haven’t said to me before, just on Discord,” he reminds you.

“Jisung…” you curse yourself for calling him by his name. “Please, fuck me. Finish what you started, for fuck’s sake.”

“Whatever you ask for, baby,” he says. “Come on, spread your legs for me like earlier. Be a good girl, will you?”

You sigh, “Don’t make me wait any longer, come on.”

Slap.

The palm of his hand collides with your exposed pussy.

“Stop being such an impatient brat,” he warns you. Jisung reaches for his cock and glides down the condom, before he starts stroking his length.

“Stop talking and fuck me already,” you tell him.

Still, he decides to tease you further, when he starts rubbing his tip over your clit for what feels like eternity.

He sees you surrender underneath him, finally, wordlessly begging him to take care of you and your needs. And that’s what he does. Carefully, he pushes the first few centimetres in and your pussy walls instantly wrap and quiver around him, sucking him in, as if you’re anatomically meant to be together.

Jisung keeps his eyes on yours and when you nod, he starts moving. You encourage him to pick up his pace from the beginning. You don’t care if you won’t be able told back any longer, if you come too fast and if he does the same. This feeling that’s he’s granting you feels too good to complain about anything.

“Oh, God, this feels so fucking good, baby,” you tell him, when he slightly changes the angle, after throwing your legs over his shoulders, so he can go deeper. You’ve never been in a position like this before—with Seojun it was the usual missionary, not whatever you’re doing with Jisung right now. For that guy, doggy was too kinky, cowgirl was too submissive for him and mating press too intimate. With his girlfriend, yes.

But you’re not wasting any thoughts on that idiot—not when Jisung is burying his cock into your cunt as if his life is depending on it. “God and baby in one sentence? You’re gonna suffer the consequences of my ego, doll.”

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me harder,” you tell him.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he chuckles, following your demand.

By now you're convinced that the walls must be shaking from all the banging of the bedframe hitting them and your moans echoing through the room. But you don’t care. You don’t care about anything else right now.

“Oh, fuck. Yes, right there, Han, right there,” you praise him and it takes every power he’s got for him to not absolutely lose his mind.

He keeps pounding into you at a sharp pace, “Nah, I told you to not use that name, baby.”

“Ji– fuck. Ji–“

You want to. You’re ready to give up, to surrender. But he’s fucking you so good, that you aren’t able to say his name. No syllable makes it past your lips.

Jisung brings his hand to your face, squishing your cheeks together and making you look at him. He’s caught in a dilemma. On one hand, he’s got so much annoyance left for you, caused by the longtime rivalry but on the other hand, he wants to hold you close, make love to you, tell you that you’re the most precious thing on this planet.

Still, when you part your lips and he feels you clenching around him, he decides to just finish what you guys started.

“Can’t even say my full name, huh? Come on, I want you to tell me who’s making you feel that good,” he whispers into your ear, brushing over that sweet spot inside you.

“Ji– can’t–“

“Oh, I know you can. Come on,” he encourages you.

“Ji– Jisung, please,” you finally manage to say.

“Feels good, baby?”

Feels good. He’s failing you into oblivion and has the audacity to ask if it’s good.

“Hm, perfect, you’re so good at this, you’re incredible, this is so unfair,” you whimper, being just as twisted about this whole situation as he is. Why is your enemy managing to pleasure you like this?

He brings one of his hands where your body meets, his thumb being pressed against your clit, ready to drive you over the edge.

“Come on, let go, yeah? I’ve got you,” he says with the softest voice again.

You can’t help but surrender fully, feeling your orgasm wash over your body, rush through all your nerves, when that sensation takes over you. Your legs are shaking and high pitched moans are filling the hotel room but this time Jisung doesn’t drown those noises out. He encourages you further, helps you ride out your high, until he feels himself getting closer too.

His moans create a harmony with your own, “Fuck– where do you want me to come, doll?”

“Wherever you want,” you tell him, meaning it.

His brain short circuits, when he pulls out and rips away the condom. Jisung is stroking his cock to completion, until hot spurts of his release land all over your chest.

“I’ve never expected your tits to become even more beautiful,” he chuckles, once he’s come down again.

You roll your eyes and laugh.

“Wait here, yeah? I’m gonna grab a towel,” he says and you nod.

A minute later he’s back, handing you the fabric and helping you up on your feet again. Jisung guides you towards where he just went to, when he says, “Let me take you to the bathroom, yeah?”

“W-What?”

“You should go pee after sex, Y/N. I also ran a bath for you, yeah?”

He looks so… caring. Perhaps he’s just providing aftercare because he’s not some asshole or fuckboy. You shouldn’t read too much into it, right?

“Why… I… uhm, I need a moment for myself.”

“Of course.”

Once you went to the toilet, you walk towards the huge mirror inside the bathroom. Jisung’s seeds are sticking to your skin, while he’s waiting on the other side of the door.

That’s when reality hits you.

What the fuck have you done?

You just slept with your brother’s best friend. Jisung is the guy you’ve been chatting with for two months. He’s the one that… that you are falling in love with.

Panic and overthinking catches the best of you, when you fully get back to presence. You shouldn’t be here. This is too serious.

When you turn your head around, you notice the bathtub getting filled with hot water. There are rose petals and foam, an astonishing scent is lingering in the air.

You panic again. This is too much for you to handle and you feel like an asshole for not appreciating it. Rushing to the sink, you clean your chest and the rest of your body there, trying to make the best out of it.

Tears start running down your face. Why the hell are you crying now? What the fuck is this shit?

You’re overwhelmed, that’s the easiest answer to it. Mixed with being scared.

Scared to get hurt, scared to get lied to again, scared to get your heart broken.

You hear a knock on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Okay,” you say and Jisung enters. His smile fades immediately when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. Great. Now he’s panicking too, while grabbing another towel and handing it to you.

“Is everything alright with you? Did I hurt you?”

His voice is so small and insecure.

“N-No, nothing… I….”

He gulps, “Was it anything I said?”

What if he breaks your heart just like Seojun did?

What if he doesn’t feel the same way you do, if this is just some physical thing to him?

What if Minho finds out?

What if you end up with nothing and no one?

What if–

“No, it’s… listen, I… I think I should go,” you announce.

His eyes wide, “Go? Go where? It’s the middle of the night, Y/N…”

You rush outside the bathroom and he follows you. Grabbing your backpack, you fish out a clean pair of panties and put them on, before slipping into some sweatpants, a bra and a shirt you have brought with you.

“What? Already so late? I’ll call Chan to pick me up it’s–“

“You’re not,” Jisung tells you, standing in front of you now, when you turn around.

“Why? Because you’re jealous?”

“Yes. But that’s not my point nor reason,” he explains. “You just slept with me and now you’re acting all differently and you’re crying and trying to escape me. What’s going on?”

You pack the rest of your stuff and when he notices that you’re not carrying any jacket with you, he reaches for one of his sweaters and places the fabric on your shoulders. You let him, knowing that it would be dumb to argue further.

What you need is fresh air, to clear your mind, to run away from your fears like you always do.

You take a deep breath and nod, before you head to the door. Still, he follows you outside the hotel room. He’s not gonna risk anything to happen to you.

“I’m sorry… I can’t do this right now, I’m sorry, Han,” you say, knowing he’s walking behind you.

Han.

Of course you wouldn’t call him Jisung.

401 notes · View notes

xiubaek13ficrecs · 4 months

Text

Screen Identity: Mismatched Passion | EP. 3 — COLIAS CROCEUS

— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —

Jisung is fast to place the palm of his other hand on your mouth, “Shhh, those sweet noises are only reserved for me, yeah?”

[ warning ]: explicit sexual scene [includes semi-public encounters, making out while being slightly tipsy, fingering (f receiving) ], consumption of alcohol and mention of weed, a lot of jealousy from both of them once again

[ words ]: 6.0K

[ note ]: Sorry for the long wait, there is a lot going on irl for me rn. I hope you will enjoy this next part, thanks for the crazy support!! If you liked this episode too, I'd be very grateful about any kind reblog, comment, ask or DM!! Also, make sure to read The Experience Project, my other series that is part of the same universe!! Lots of love, Cece 🩷

“Why on earth is there a video of you kissing my brother?” Hannah asks, fury in her eyes. “Since when are you and Chan a thing?”

You’re sipping on your iced cherry matcha, barely awake, while your best friend is attacking you with such accusations.

“Hannah, we’re not. Sorry, you had to see that.”

You should have thought this through when you asked your bestie’s older brother to make out with you at the semester opening party, just to win a stupid bet against Jisung. Of course, people were gonna see you. What were you even thinking?

“I’ll have to bleach my eyes at least twice, thank you very much,” she sighs. “Why are you running around campus kissing my brother then?”

“It was… for a bet,” you explain. “With Jisung. We bet on who is the first one to make out with someone at the party. Chan was just there to help me win.”

Hannah’s mouth falls agape, while she gathers up all her strength to not let up a high pitched scream in the middle of the lecture hall.

“When will Jisung and you stop your childish games and just confess? It’s getting boring… You’re the definition of slow burn.”

As your bestie, she has been watching this silly little game between your brother’s friend for a way too long time now. It’s obvious for anyone else that this rivalry has grown into something different since you started college.

“What? What do you mean by confessing?” you try to play dumb but fail for once in your lifetime.

“We don’t have to have this conversation now, the lecture is starting soon, but we will discuss this. I’m sure it’s very much reciprocated.”

No, it’s not. And you know that. Which is also the reason you stopped putting hope into whatever Jisung and you could evolve to. You’re finally talking to someone new, that guy from the Discord server, meeting him tonight and some second guesses about your longtime crush won’t destroy this.

But then again, you remember how fucking sad he looked when he saw you kissing Chan last night at the party. Like a lost puppy. If you didn’t know better, you’d expect him to have tears in his eyes. And on top of that, he still hasn’t replied to your message.

Could there be…

No, this is ridiculous. That idiot was probably sad about losing against you. It would fit him, after all.

You don’t reply to Hannah anymore, especially when the professor stops talking to Chan—the tutor—and starts the lecture. You’re gonna study for this current class with him later and you’re sure there’s lots to discuss.

In the afternoon, you meet Chan at his dorm. Yuna and you luckily have your apartment back, but since she’s already got her own study group over, you decided to go to your friend’s place instead. Your best friend’s brother opens the door for you with a wide grin, pulling you into a hug. You’re not the greatest fan of physical touch, but with Chan it’s okay. He’s like a teddy bear. A very muscular teddy bear, but it’s always comforting.

Perhaps that’s why you’ve been contemplating talking about him with the Jisung issue. After all, he’s been involved in this thanks to you. Apart from that, it’s only fair to get whatever mess with your longtime rival sorted out of your head, before you will meet j.0ne for the first time tonight.

“What’s on your mind, Y/N? It’s the third time you made a mistake in that exercise. Everything alright?”

You let out a deep breath, shifting around in your position. “It’s… I think you didn’t notice but after our kiss last night, Jisung came to me and he was… he behaved very oddly.”

“In which way?” Chan asks, tilting his head. After all, he didn’t suspect that his friend has a crush on you. Until last night. Which makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking about the fact that Chan made out with you. Jisung has never told him, but the signs are pretty obvious now.

So, when he went to the studio last night after leaving campus, he found Jisung there too. And all his suspicions turned out to be true.

“Do you like Y/N?”

He confronted him, just like that.

“Why… no… why would you think that?” Jisung replied, his voice shaking, not making him sound any convincing.

“It looked as if you had tears in your eyes, when you saw me kissing her. That’s why I pulled back,” he confesses.

“N-No… it’s… look, it’s complicated, okay?”

“Why? You make it complicated, Jisung. I’m sure she likes you too,” Chan tried to hype his friend up.

“She would never like a loser like me.”

His heart hurt.

“Stop talking to yourself like this, mate,” he told the younger one, giving him a little nudge as if this would solve the problem of Jisung’s low self esteem, especially when it’s about you.

“But it’s… true. I’m just some nerd, I’m not really experienced when it comes to women except for a few horrible one night stands I had. What could I even offer her?”

Chan’s heart aches once more when he thinks back to last night. Without sharing the secret, Chan will subtly guide you to the hints he’s got, perhaps he can even find out if you might reciprocate the feelings that his friend has for you.

“Startled. Out of character. Absent. I don’t know. He congratulated me for winning the bet and then he just… left. I couldn’t find him anywhere. And he didn’t respond to my text in which I told him that he doesn’t need to do most of our shared uni project alone just because he lost the bet. Isn’t he overreacting?”

Your friend sighs, “Could there be a reason why he acted so strangely?”

“I don’t think so… he was the one who suggested this dumb bet after all. Telling me I’m so innocent that I wouldn’t win anyway. He doesn’t know half of what my love life is about,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Chan asks with a smirk.

You laugh, “Ah, not much. There’s just some guy that I’ve been talking to these weeks and it could become something more.”

Chan wonders why you just didn’t ask this mysterious guy then at the campus party to kiss you. Perhaps he doesn’t study at your university.

But after his talk to Jisung last night and all he’s observed throughout the past years, your friend has always wondered something else. The chemistry between his younger colleague and you is insane. Sure, you constantly nag each other, fight in debates in school and do dumb bets like last night. But what if that’s just a coping mechanism to hide your true feelings? And now you’re seeing someone else?

He’d love for Jisung and you to become a couple. An idea pops up in his head that he instantly feels bad for—but since you and Jisung are both his friends who are just too dumb to realise how you seem to feel about each other, he could play cupid, right?

“I’ve always thought… and please don’t judge me, that maybe you… and… and Jisung would become a couple one day,” Chan explains, avoiding eye contact.

“Please. I used to have a crush on him, just for the record, but this would never work. Besides that, he doesn’t view me like this anyway,” you confess.

Your friend isn’t even surprised, if he’s honest. He would have expected you to fall for Jisung at some point.

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

The fact that Chan doesn’t reply to the second part of your statement leaves you confused.

“Minho. He’s his best friend. And ever since we were teenagers, my brother told him to stay away from me, romantically and sexually,” you expain.

Chan rolls his eyes, “You’re adults…”

He would never pull a move like this if Hannah dated one of his friends.

“Yeah, I know. Minho’s weird. And only two years older so what’s the fuss about?” You say, shaking your head. “But… there’s something else I might need advice with.”

“What’s it?”

“I… I met someone… online, like I said, the guy I’ve been talking to,” you tell him. “Not on a dating app but on a Discord gaming server. I’ve been texting him for some months now and… yeah, sorry for the TMI, but we also, uhm, video chatted if you know what I mean. Now he’s invited me to his friends’ get-together.”

It feels good to say this out loud to someone without adding too many details. But you feel like you should share what’s about to happen tonight with at least one person and Chan is that certain friend of yours who you trust the most when it comes to this.

You told Minho yesterday. Unfortunately he saw you giggling at your phone screen and you weren’t able to lie to him. Surprisingly, he took it well and even encouraged you which is probably only because you’re not texting one of his friends.

But sharing this with someone like Chan feels right.

“That sounds great! Have you met him before in real life?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too fake. Yes, Chan is happy for you, he always is as long as you are. But what about… Jisung and you? God, he feels as if he’s more invested in this than you are.

“No, which is why I’m so nervous,” you say, awkwardly giggling.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Camping with his friends,” you add.

Chan’s eyes widen. You can’t be serious. He’s never expected you to be so naïve.

“You wanna meet a stranger in the woods? Are you out of your mind, Y/N?”

This isn’t even about him trying to set you up with his friend, he’s just helping you get some sense into your brain.

“But, Channie… he’s so sweet, really,” you reassure him. “And super respectful. Takes care of his drunk female friends when they’re in danger?”

Chan can’t believe what he’s hearing. Great, the bare minimum and you’re praising this stranger for it.

“What a Disney prince, wow. You’re not gonna meet him. At least not in this scenario,” he tells you, sounding as if he’s your older brother. It makes you mad, it makes you feel immature.

But if you think about it…

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you haven’t thought this through. And with Jisung on your mind, you keep contemplating if this was the right decision.

When Jisung gets to Felix’s and his roommate’s place, none of them are there. He puts down his backpack and goes inside the kitchen, making himself some instant ramyeon. He can’t remember when it was the last time that he’s been so excited and nervous at the same time.

He’s gonna meet you. The girl from Discord. The one and only that has been keeping him company these past months on any level possible, making his life better for once. Fuck. He dearly prays he won’t fuck this up. He checks again if he’s got everything for a successful camping trip—his tent, other equipment, an extra hoodie for you to wear, cigarettes and condoms.

Jisung can’t wait to find out what you are like in real life. You’re definitely the prettiest girl he’ll ever lay his eyes on, that he’s already sure of.

And on top of that, you kind of asked him to be his boyfriend. That’s insane. And just puts more pressure on him, considering he’s never been in a relationship before or anything close to that.

He’s humming a sweet melody, totally in his thoughts while packing up the rest of his stuff, before he hears his phone ding with a message from none other than you.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Hey, J. I’m sorry for the late message but I don’t think I can meet you tonight. I’m just not ready yet and I’d prefer a different setting, if I’m honest. I’d love to see you someday, but not now. Have a nice trip with your friends. ❤️

His heart breaks into a million pieces. Shit. He’s been looking forward to this moment and now it’s ripped out of his hand?

Sure, you’re telling him to meet some other time but what if you’re just trying to be nice? What if you don’t want to ever actually meet him? What if this has all been a lie?

He can feel his throat tightening, as anxiety takes over him and then the tears start strolling down his face again. Just like yesterday after the party. The talk with Chan helped a bit, but being put in such a situation now doesn’t really help his self esteem.

Of course he understands you and he would never be mad at you. It’s just that he’s… sad.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: Hey, that’s fine. Have a nice weekend.

A little while later, Felix and his other roommate come home. He explains the situation to them, trying his best to hold back tears once again. His mood has decreased by a thousand levels and he doesn’t want to destroy his friends’ get-together with it—so he decides to not go at all.

“So, what now?” Felix asks him.

“I’m not coming, I’ll stay here,” Jisung explains, shaking his head, while his arms are crossed in front of his chest.

“You’re such a loser,” his freckled friend tells him in a playful manner, knowing this usually cheers Jisung up.

And Jisung sighs but tries to drown out a laughter. He gets up from the couch and takes the fluffy blanket with him. “A broken hearted loser. And if you excuse me, I need to play video games now, smoke some weed and cry like a real man like God intended.”

His roommates try to hold back their laughs, finding it very entertaining to watch him become the lead role of a K-Drama, and once Jisung is entering Felix’s bedroom, he hears his other friend yell, “If you need anything, you call us, yeah?”

“Yes, babes. I love you. Take care,” Jisung replies, before he sinks down on the chair in front of Felix’s desk.

He turns on the computer and logs into Steam and Discord on there. Jisung searches through his backpack and brings out a transparent plastic bag, filled with his green goods. The papers are lying in there too, so he grabs them. Once he’s done rolling his joint, Jisung brings the object right between his lips and guides his lighter to the tip. Right before he can let the flame connect with the cannabis cigarette, a message appears on the computer screen.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Listen… I can explain this

He sighs but types anyway, the joint still dangling from his mouth.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: What’s there to explain? I’m not mad at you.

Because he isn’t. Jisung could never be mad at you and he respects your boundaries. It’s just sad you told him a few hours before the trip.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: You’re texting without grammar errors, which makes you sound very serious.

He lets out a giggle, before he puts the joint and all his other stuff away. Change of plans.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: Fine.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: I’m just… I was really looking forward to it and I think it’s pretty normal to be sad about it, right?

You take some time to type but he receives a few texts rather quickly.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Of course. I’m sorry for telling you so late.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: It’s…

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: You know… it’s nothing against you and I know you would never harm me but going to the woods with a man that I’ve never seen irl before…

Holy shit.

He didn’t even think of that. And usually Jisung does anything for any female person in his life to feel as comfortable as possible. But since he’s a man and doesn’t experience the angst and danger you might be put in, he didn’t consider this to come across as a bit weird. Very weird, now that he’s reflecting.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: oh fuck

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: yes

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: shit it definitely wasn’t meant that way

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: i see it now omfg istg i didn’t wanna scare you, doll

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Haha it’s fine!

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Have a nice trip with your friends 🫶

Right. The trip he just canceled. It isn’t just because you won’t be there and because his mood is ruined, but Felix invited his gym crush Changbin and Jisung’s other temporary roommate seems to be getting close to Minho, his best friend, and he didn’t want to third-wheel there.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: oh i'm not going

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: if you’re up for it we can play a round of levanter later

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: You’re not going?

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Pls don’t tell me it’s because i'm not going… I didn’t want to ruin your night ):

Now he feels even worse. Triggering your guilty conscience is the last thing he’s wanted.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: don’t worry doll

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: I didn’t feel like going anyway

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: my best friend is trying to get together with this girl hes been crushing on for years so maybe it’s a good thing I’m at home instead. The other two are about to become a couple as well sooo :)

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Is it the girl you took care of when she was drunk?

Why are you even asking that?

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: oh, no that’s someone else

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Ah okay

Oh, Jisung knows why you’re asking now.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: are you jealous, doll?

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Me?!

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Never!!

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Okay maybe a bit 🤭

For some reason he likes that about you. It makes him feel special that you only seem to want him for yourself. No one has ever acted like this before.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: i like that tbh

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: kinda hot ngl

Still, he’s a bit insecure if you want to meet at all. Or if this whole two months build up was for the relationship that’s blooming between you two to stay inside this Discord chat forever.

He decides to gather up all his strength and ask again. What could go wrong, right?

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: so

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: do you still want to meet me once you’re ready? or not at all?

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: I do!!

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: As soon as possible

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: But maybe somewhere else? Where it’s just the two of us

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: And preferably not in the woods lol

He feels relieved that it’s really just caused by the weird setting he’s created.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: lmao

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: yeah sure

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: how about a public place? I’ve got a nice idea what you would enjoy seeing and i could also book us a hotel room?

He’s been having this certain idea ever since he met you on Discord. Your name inspired him, that’s for sure. But he wanted to save that special plan for when the time feels right which is why he opted for a simple meet when suggesting the camping trip. However, now that he’s contemplating further, it seems to be right to do this on the first date.

A date.

He still can’t believe this. Jisung has never been on a date before that gave him so much hope. Usually, the women didn’t show up or didn’t match with him.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: That sounds great!!

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: this saturday? are you free

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: i’d love to meet you tomorrow night but there’s this party of one of my friends who just came back from paris

Friend is a little stretched. But ever since Hyunjin came back from his gap semester, he’s talked about this party and since all of Jisung’s friends are going—as well as Minho’s little sister which he’s been trying to avoid for the past twenty four hours—he can’t cancel that too.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Saturday is perfect!! I can’t wait to meet you and find out what you’ve got prepared for us!!

He feels so flustered. And so happy.

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: you can check into the room first if you like and bring your stuff there

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: and i’ll just pick you up

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: or we meet at the place that i’ve chosen 😊

Jisung wants to make this as comfortable and safe as possible for you.

[ baby_butt3rfly 🦋 ]: Sounds good! Looking forward to it ❤️

[ j.0ne 🐿️ ]: me too ❤️

He’s going to meet you. Finally. And maybe this will even evolve into more, both romantically and physically speaking.

You don’t even know why you came here. Sure, Hyunjin is somewhat of a friend of yours—you’re taking the same classes this semester again—but he’s left you a bit confused after last night. Ever since you stopped texting j.0ne and went to bed, you received a message from Hyunjin, in which he asked you out on a date. You told him at least a thousand times that you’re not interested in him—which wouldn’t have held you back from using him for the bet against Jisung but we’re gonna ignore that—and still, he sent you some half-comprehensible gibberish that he must have wrote while he was drunk.

But the worst part of it all—as if you don’t already have enough issues going on inside your head and life—your brother told you that the girl he likes—Felix’s roommate—is currently dating Hyunjin. While Hyunjin goes around and asks other women out. So, of course you told Minho but it still leaves you confused and guilty although you haven’t done anything.

Hopefully, the second somaek you’re drinking will help you drown out those thoughts inside your head and luckily Lily is here to keep you company. Yuna and Hannah are somewhere else, currently talking to people they seem to be interested in and when you see the latter with a person she gets a bit close to, you notice how Chan—who’s also here—doesn’t care about it. You sometimes wish Minho was as chill about the whole dating topic as well. But judging from how he reacted to you telling him about j.0ne, you’ve got hopes again.

An hour later, you join an already ongoing drinking game. You’re not really in the mood but since Minho is gone—wherever the hell he went—and Lily is encouraging you to participate in a fun activity after all the horror with Seojun, you oblige. Although you don’t really feel like it. The only one that you want is j.0ne anyway. You’re finally gonna meet him tomorrow.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts, when the living room door swings open and Jisung enters the room again. Weird. You saw him leave the party an hour ago with Felix and his roommate, but he seems to be back. What you don’t know is that Jisung has got another mission on his to-do-list tonight and it’s called revenge. Revenge for you kissing Chan and winning the stupid bet. He’s ignored you for over a day now but when Minho told him that Hyunjin asked you out, he couldn’t control his emotions anymore. Sure, he’s finally gonna meet the girl from his Discord server tomorrow night but he also knows that he needs to end whatever it is between the both of you to move on and be with her instead.

What is his plan?

Well, he didn’t think that far. But he’s gonna improvise.

Meanwhile, you’re left confused. J.0ne mentioned a party of a friend that just returned from Paris. And you just know it must be the same where you’re at right now. Which also means, j.0ne is friends with Hyunjin and way closer to you. Ever since you entered your friend’s apartment, you have started wondering who it could be.

Perhaps Yeonjun? No, he doesn’t seem like a video game type of guy. His personality in real life would differ too much from the one online.

What if it’s Hyunjin himself? Oh, God. That would be the plot twist of the century. But then again, you’ve never talked about the game Levanter with him despite it being super popular. You doubt he even has time to play video games when he’s busy with his art or dating all those women. Ugh.

Which leaves you with… Felix. What if it’s Felix, one of your brother’s friends? He’s cute, he’s on the server too as far as you know and it would match him. But hasn’t he been crushing on his gym coach for literal years? You’ve only talked to him a few times but since he’s so in-your-face with it, you couldn’t forget about this info.

So, this only leaves you with…

“Jisung, it’s your turn.”

No.

Oh, hell, no.

What if j.0ne has been Jisung all along?

Your vision instantly becomes dizzy but you try to focus on what’s happening right now.

“Truth,” the man in question replies.

Yeonjun chuckles, “Are you seeing someone right now?”

You can hear a few giggles echoing through the room. Sure, Jisung isn’t that experienced but there’s no need to make fun of him just for being a nerd.

You kind of feel bad for him. There’s already this huge weight of guilt that’s been laying on your shoulders since the semester opening party and your kiss with Chan. Although you know you shouldn’t be. It was Jisung who suggested the whole bet so he had seen it coming.

“I am, yeah,” he says with a smirk and the room goes dead silent.

“Wow, who’s the lucky one? Do we know her?” Yeonjun asks further.

You gulp, unsure how to categorise that tightening feeling inside your chest once again. You’ve got someone new. You’re over him if there was ever anything between the two of you. Move on.

But why did he react that way last night? And why did Chan behave so oddly too?

“You’ll meet my girlfriend soon, I’m sure.”

Jisung has…

Jisung has a girlfriend?

It’s that serious?

“Y/N, it’s your turn,” Soobin asks.

“What?”

“Truth or dare, Y/N?”

“Uhm, dare?”

You don’t even know why you chose that option. You’re usually not bold at all. Especially not in front of all these people. But maybe it’s better than revealing some messy secrets in front of Jisung. Although you’d love to provoke him back now. Sure, j.0ne and you aren’t a couple yet, but there’s nothing bad about exaggerating things right? And on top of that, it’s what you’re aiming for anyway, right?

However, now being so close to Jisung and him moving on, you don’t manage to be able to think clearly anymore.

“Show us the underwear you’re wearing tonight,” Soobin says with a grin. God, is he a thirteen year old teenager? If Jisung’s a pathetic nerd, you don’t know what that guy is.

“Fine,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. You curse yourself for wearing one of those black dresses again, but opt for pulling it down so you only reveal your bra and not your panties to all of them. You’re not gonna show what’s reserved for j.0ne to the whole group, after all.

Reaching for the fabric, you slide the material down just as much to present the red lingerie that’s covering your breasts. The glitter is pretty and you’re glad about your choice this time, feeling like the main character and totally forgetting about the fact that your friends are literally staring at your tits. It’s an odd feeling but you don’t mind for whatever twisted reason.

Until your eyes interlock with Jisung’s.

You’ve expected a bunch of emotions to be visible on his face.

Surprise. Disgust. Confusion. Even arousal.

But he seems shocked. Panicking, almost.

However, before you’re able to connect the dots, you’re pulling your dress back up again.

A few more rounds follow and then the bottle gets spun again. This time pointing at Jisung.

“Truth or Dare, Ji?” Hyunjin asks. You still don’t get in which order you’re playing this game since it feels as if it’s always a random person’s turn to propose that infamous question.

Jisung looks right into your eyes when he says, “Dare.”

Hyunjin—already quite intoxicated and a bit emotional for whatever reason you don’t know—replies, “I’m gonna spin the bottle again and then it’s Seven Minutes In Heaven for that person and you. Heaven being my storage room, sorry. Rent is expensive these days.”

You close your eyes, you don’t wanna see the disaster of Jisung going to the storage room with another person and at the same time you feel guilty for being jealous. You’ve got a new man. Why are you still thinking about your ex crush?

Well, to put it in perspective: Jisung and you have never talked anything out between the two of you. Neither the romantic feelings you have for him, nor the hatred or rivalry.

“Y/N.”

What?

You open your eyes and find the bottle pointing at you, all while your heart drops down. Your pulse is echoing through your body, making it hard to think rationally but some magic force brings you up to your feet. You follow Jisung down the hallway, whereas the whistles in the background coming from your friends decrease more and more in volume.

“I’m sure they’re gonna fuck,” you still hear Yeonjun giggle.

“It’s about damn time. God, I hope they don’t make a mess in my storage room.”

You shake your head and Jisung opens the door for you. The smirk on his face is wide, making your head spin and for whatever reason it lets a sensation erupt between your legs that definitely surprises you. Or it doesn’t, if you’re completely honest.

Silence. There’s silence in the room. You can still hear your own heartbeat and probably even Jisung’s that’s threatening to burst out of his chest. He’s so nervous and confused.

When he saw the glimpse of your underwear, he finally connected the dots. Sure, he’s had the idea before when the two of you were studying and in hindsight, it makes so much sense now.

You’re her.

Butt3rfly_baby must be you.

But what if there’s a slight chance that all of this is just a simple coincidence? The necklace, the lingerie, you being drunk while she was too, going to the same university, living in the same city. It would be too crazy to believe that you and her aren’t the same person, right?

Still, Jisung is left confused and nervous.

However, he’s got the greatest idea to figure out if his thesis equals the truth.

Meanwhile, you’re caught in the same dilemma, your thoughts running in circles at lightning speed, whereas you’re wondering when you’ll receive the award for being the idiot of the century.

How haven’t you realised sooner and how come, after a few drinks and being inside this cramped storage room with him, you finally count two and two together? Jisung having a friend who returned from Paris, him taking care of a drunk girl when you were drunk, going to the same university, living in the same city.

Perhaps you’ve known this whole time, subconsciously. And you were just too scared of the consequences.

There’s just one way to confirm the thesis inside your head. You’ve got the best idea to figure things out.

Fuck it, you think, before you get closer to him, your mouth only separated from his by a thin layer of air. You’ve been secretly waiting for this moment for years now, it’s embarrassing. But this is for science, right? If this all turns out to be a coincidence and j.0ne is another person, this is your way of ending things with Jisung.

“Do it, Han,” you whisper, a smirk on your face.

“Fuck it,” he curses, before he crashes his lips into yours.

Time stands still for what feels like eternity. His mouth is pressed against yours and for a moment you can’t breathe, until he starts moving. You haven’t kissed many people in your life, but you soon learn that there isn’t any feeling comparable in this world that’s ever gonna come close to the kiss you’re currently sharing with none other than Han Jisung.

Your academic rival since your childhood days.

Your brother’s best friend.

And perhaps the guy who’s made you come without touching you for a few too many times for months now.

The moans. The whimpers.

They sound just like him.

He’s him.

J.0ne must be Jisung. And you wonder how dumb you have been to not realise sooner.

Jisung surprises you when he takes the initiative and slips his tongue inside your mouth, soon finding your own. You fight for dominance, while your arms swing around his neck and pull him closer. It’s messy. It’s wild. It’s passionate. It’s indescribable.

His hands are attached to your waist, bringing you near him as if the room is getting smaller and smaller with every kiss you share.

“Touch me,” you tell him and he lets out a grunt.

Jisung’s fingers wander under your dress, pulling the fabric up and he reveals the matching panties to the bra you presented to the whole group earlier. It’s the same one that is part of most of the many nudes he’s saved on his phone from you.

None of you speaks out loud their thoughts, what you’ve realised, not wanting to ruin the mood. And it doesn’t even matter. After all, you don’t have much time here and it could be at any second that those Seven Minutes In Heaven will end.

So, Jisung lets his hand wander further and you spread your legs automatically. He chuckles, adoring how you follow suit without him having to tell you. It’s odd that you don’t talk but on the other hand you finally found a way to shut him up. And you’re so in trance, you wouldn’t do it any other way.

His fingertips are grazing over your lingerie while his gaze shoots down to where your bodies meet. He chuckles to himself, both because of the fact that he’s finally touching that pretty fabric that he’s been staring at on his phone for months now and because you’re so soaked, just for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, doll.”

Doll.

It’s him. Without a doubt.

Jisung pushes the material aside and a high pitched moan spills from your lips, when his fingers push your pussy lips apart, just to find your clit within seconds. At first, you’re surprised, since you know how inexperienced he is but then you realise—this man has been watching you touching yourself for weeks now, he must know your body quite well, knows what you get off to, what motions make you come.

Another whimper leaves your lips, volume slightly increasing, and Jisung is fast to place the palm of his other hand on your mouth, “Shhh, those sweet noises are only reserved for me, yeah?”

You close your eyes so he doesn’t see them rolling to the back of your head. You can feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter with every second, and when he pushes a finger into your aching hole as if he’s done this a thousand times before, you fully surrender.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whispers but you barely hear it.

It feels so fucking great. This whole scene. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. You’re so caught up in the moment, moans coming out of you but Jisung drowns them out, that you forget about everything.

Until you hear a voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/N? Are you in there?”

Minho.

Why is your brother back and why’s he looking for you?

Jisung and you come to a halt and he’s fast to pull out and away from you, before he’s adjusting your underwear and sliding back down your dress.

“Answer me, Y/N,” you brother repeats, his voice filled with anger. “Are you in there with Jisung?!”

433 notes · View notes

xiubaek13ficrecs · 4 months

Text

🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter XI

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: minho is alive and someone finally gets retribution. it's the start of the rest of their lives

word count: 19k

warnings: violence, blood, evil guy death; drinking; mentions of anxiety and cptsd symptoms (they went through it, okay?); some (unprotected) smut! a happy end <3 yay!

author's note: by all laws of storytelling this chapter is too long, but I could not care less. I wanted some gratuitous sweetness after all the pain. also I thought about splitting this up into another chapter but I figured I tortured you with enough cliffhangers akshdhas so enjoy!! the last official chapter before our epilogue <3 thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. thank you to everyone who commented, who messaged me, who took the time to read <3 thank you for loving my baby <3 it means the world

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

series masterlist // skzms masterlist

< chapter X - interlude (& epilogue coming friday, may 24 at 3pm CET) >

You meet Felix’s eyes as Changbin shoves him behind him, out of harms way, and there’s nothing but sunshine; tears of joy and a brilliant, blinding smile. He nods at you, as if to say this is exactly what I meant, and you have to fight back a sob.

The thought of everyone else having seen you, what they will think, after all these years, Minho, and your secret barely a secret at all – this and the realisation that Jisung said Minho is alive, the feeling of your whole life spinning out of control, it will have to wait. Because Han Yujun is in there, and there are more guards now. Way more. Ten of them against the maybe eight of you. And these ones look more serious, less like young men with no experience to speak of.

Chan’s eyes are locked onto them already, rolling his shoulders as he readies himself for the fight. Hyunjin has found Jisung’s other side as he cocks his gun, squeezes his arm with a smile, mouthing something to him that looks like a thank god you’re okay.

The first guy approaches and Hyunjin lifts his gun, shoots him point-blank. He sinks to the floor right in front of the next one, that Jisung takes care of just as quickly, swiping at his legs and driving his cutlass into his chest when he crumples to the floor. One goes down from the force of your elbow alone, another falls victim to Felix’s blade, who squeals and turns to Changbin excitedly when he realises he got one. Changbin doesn’t look proud at all, he’s white as a sheet as he tugs Felix back behind him.

Hyunjin strikes another one down with a practised hand and a toss of his hair and his companion drops his weapon, lifts his hands and hightails it down the path toward the gate. Hyunjin watches him, perplexed, then turns to you and raises an eyebrow in question. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. You shake your head.

“Let him go, he’s not worth it. He’ll probably get intercepted by the captain’s men anyway.”

Chan deals with the next two at once, a cutlass in one hand, his short knife in the other. His knife into the one’s throat, his cutlass into the chest of the other. He wipes the bloody blade on his pants as he scoffs.

“If we’d known his men were this shit, we could’ve done this ages ago.”

The last three fall equally easily, and you don’t wait for more to come, push forward until you find yourself in the cool, marble foyer. In here, it’s so quiet it’s almost eery, the noise of fighting only a dull din from somewhere seemingly far away. The house seems mostly abandoned. Though you have a feeling Han Yujun is still here, holed up somewhere, clutching onto hope and all his money that he’ll somehow make it out of this alive. But you know better. You take a second to survey the scene. A hallway to your right, a sitting room with more doors to your left, a stairway right in front of you.

“His office is upstairs,” Jisung offers next to you. You look at him with a question in your eyes, and he nods.

“Changbin, take Felix and check the left wing,” you order, “Hyunjin, Chan, take the right. Someone else check the basement, and as many of you as possible find all the exits and guard them. Han Yujun can’t escape us today. Jisung and I will check upstairs.”

Changbin takes Felix’s hand, mumbles something to him about staying behind him, before he makes his way down the hallway. Hyunjin salutes you quietly, and he and Chan enter the sitting room with their weapons drawn. Two of your crew stay by the front door, the rest of the group disperses.

You look at Jisung, meet his gaze where it’s already locked onto yours. It makes sweet adrenaline rush through your veins. You motion for him to follow you upstairs and hurry up the stairwell, taking two steps at a time.

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight again, you’re dead wrong,” you mumble, and he chuckles behind you, bright and airy and happy, and it makes you stop at the top of the stairs, turn around in shock. Something heavy squeezes your chest because, of course, Minho isn’t there, but it’s soothed over by Jisung’s beautiful, radiant smile. And there is hope. You can’t help but feel it, despite it all.

“Don’t ever let me out of your sight again, please,” Jisung chirps, hurries up to meet you, wraps his muscular arms around your waist and pulls you in, “I’m way too in love with you for that.”

Butterflies, in your stomach, so many that you can barely breathe – in the middle of the biggest fight of your entire life, on the day you started thinking everyone you loved was dead, when you were prepared for this day to be your last. Jisung giggles sweetly, pulls you closer against his strong chest, presses wet hot lips in the shape of a smile against the side of your neck. He’s the most magical, most insane, most lovable person you’ve ever met, and you realise now that you’ll never be the same again.

A guard spots you, then, yells, comes barreling down the hallway. Jisung doesn’t hesitate. He unfolds himself from you casually, parries two of his opponent’s attacks before he sinks his cutlass into him, and he slumps to the ground.

“Where were we?” he asks, giddily, eyes sparkling with mischief as he stalks up to you, crowds you against the wall until his breath is on your face.

“Jisung, we can’t be messing around. Not today,” you breathe, though your eyes are glued to his lips, no doubt betraying every ounce of your blind, desperate want. Damn him.

“There’s no way we aren’t winning today, captain,” he purrs, smiles again, brushes his lips against yours in a breath of a kiss, “there’s nowhere for him to run. So let’s have some fun.”

And you’re about to give in, let him kiss you breathless in your arch enemy’s house, but fate has a different plan. Five more of Han Yujun’s men come barrelling down the hallway and this time, much to your chagrin, you have to fight in earnest. One of them catches your arm, adds a second cut to the one already there, and it drives tears into your eyes. But you don’t stop, wave away Jisung’s concerned look, focus on fighting your way down the hallway and manage to kill the last one right before it forks.

Your breath is coming out in short bursts as you gather your bearings. Your arm aches, your lungs burn. You have the choice now, between left and right. Right leads you down a hallway with few doors, at the end of which there’s an open glass door that leads out to a French balcony that’s facing out into the garden, curtains billowing in the wind. The other direction leads deeper into the house, culminating in two heavy oak doors, very similar to the ones in Trott’s house.

“That’s his office,” Jisung comments with a nod towards the ominous doors. You nod and realise that this is really it. You wonder if you’ll still be able to do what needs to be done when it comes down to it, now that Jisung is alive. But you have to. For them.

You look at Jisung, give him a tense smile.

“Shall we?”

Jisung smiles, then his face pulls into the pout of determination you know and love so well. He extends his hand, takes yours, and you make your way down the hallway.

Suddenly, a thump sounds behind you, then a curse and a voice that you would recognise anywhere, anytime.

“Sung–“

The call of Jisung’s name is cut off. Your heart stops, and for a painful second, you wonder if it will give out.

You’re frozen where you are, unable to turn around. You can’t face it, you can’t be wrong. You wouldn’t survive it. You’re distantly aware of Jisung’s worried eyes on you, his gaze flicking between you and …

“Y/N?” Minho says, and there’s no longer any doubt in your mind.

You turn around slowly, your ears ringing as you let your eyes drag over the carpet and up and up, until you see him.

Minho. It’s undoubtedly him. Breathing. Shaky. Alive. His old, brown leather boots with the big silver buckle. Strong thighs in his black pants. A white v-neck shirt you don’t recognise exposing his flushed, heaving chest. Blood on his sleeves, hair swept back like he was in a hurry.

You suck in a breath. One of his eyes is covered with a black eyepatch. But the other one looks at you, the same way he always did. Does.

Your shaky legs move towards him. He doesn’t approach you, just stares, his eyebrows lifted in an expression that is almost helpless.

You stop a cautious few feet in front of him, like getting any closer would shatter the mirage. But you can see the little birthmark on his nose, smell the unmistakable smell of him, can almost feel him on your skin. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

“You’re alive,” you mutter, blink, eyes roving all over his face.

He nods, helplessly, his eyes, his eye glued to yours. So soft. So scared.

“T-the gunshot,” you breathe, but your voice gives out. A tremor wracks through your body, and you see Minho’s hand twitch to reach out, before he drops it again.

“They shot into the sky. They wanted you to think I was dead.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sob, though there are no tears. You feel wrung dry, empty, soulless. Minho shivers. His hand reaches out, again and this time, he doesn’t pull back. He runs a fingertip over the sleeve of your coat. Doesn’t look at you when he forces out his next words.

“I heard you scream.”

You blink, watch his eyebrow twitch, his mouth pulls into a grimace of pain. It’s too much, it’s unbearable. The memory of it, the knowledge of it, the thought of him dead, the weight of every single minute of the last weeks. Now, the fact that he’s here. A flesh and blood reminder of all you thought you lost. It’s too much, it’s too–

“What happened to your eye?” you ask, your voice only a ghost of itself. Minho lifts his head until his gaze finds yours again and punches a breath clean out of you with how much love it holds. Though this time, there’s no more kraken that roars, riots, threatens to burst out of your skin. There’s only honeysuckle sweetness and a longing that you don’t know how you managed to keep locked away for so long.

“The guy got me just right, I think his ring cut my retina,” he shrugs, “pretty sure it’s fucked. But I’ve gotten used to it already, doesn’t hu-”

“I love you.”

You breathe the words into the space between you, and Minho reels back like he has been punched straight in the chest. His next breath comes out in a stutter. He’s so beautiful.

“I’ve always loved you, I think,” it tumbles out of you, unable to stop now that you’ve finally said it.

“Y/N …” Minho chokes out. He takes a step forward, cups your face. His hands are shaking. He’s looking at you, staring into your eyes like he’s searching for something, like he doesn’t quite believe your words. You feel half crazed.

“I do, Min,” you choke out, “I do, I love you. I love you so much. I–“

When he leans in, he doesn’t even have to pull you because you meet him halfway. His lips find yours, trembling as he kisses you so desperately, you gasp into his mouth. Your tongue is heavy with emotion when it tangles with his, kissing him like you’re tasting him for the first time. He pulls back only enough to stare down at you, his trembling breath against your lips.

“I love you, too, baby, oh god, I love you so much,” he forces out the words like they hurt. He looks so disbelieving, so sure yet so unsure, like he doesn’t know how he has found his way here, and you don’t know what to do because he’s alive and breathing and you get another chance, another chance to make it right, another chance you don’t fucking deserve.

You pull him back into your lips and, of course, he matches you perfectly, swallows your desperate whine when you shove him backwards, crowd him against the wall. He takes it, pulls you even closer, buries his hand in your hair, then flips you, so your back is against the wall, tilts your head, kisses you deeper. It’s you and him, it’s just like every other time, except it’s not – because you can finally feel and your poor, broken heart beats to the tune of he’s here, he’s alive, he’s here, he’s alive.

He pulls back when there is no more air, pants against your lips, makes a tortured little sound in the back of his throat as his fingers curl around your neck, dig into the soft skin. He’s blinking rapidly, his mouth open like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out, only a disbelieving huff.

Someone yells outside, there’s a gunshot, then another. The sounds rip through the atmosphere around you and Minho and shatter it like glass, a brutal reminder of where you are, what you have yet to do.

You close your eyes again, just for a moment, basking in the way Minho’s breath fans over your lips, breathing it in greedily. But you can’t help but feel like there’s something missing. Some_one_ missing.

You blink your eyes open and find Jisung where you left him. He’s staring at you, and he looks awed, but he also looks so, so sad, his arms wrapped around himself almost protectively.

“I can leave if you want,” he croaks out, the sound of it tinny and brittle in the big, empty hallway. He takes an uneven step back, closer to the hallway that leads back to the stairs, like he’s ready to run.

Minho sighs softly, leans against you, his thumb softly running up the side of your neck. You don’t need to look at him to understand.

He scoffs at the same time as you reach out your hand.

“Why the fuck would we want that?” you laugh out.

Jisung’s shoulders fall, he sniffles, and then he’s running up to you, flinging himself into your and Minho’s arms with all his might, burying his face in Minho’s chest and pulling you until you’re both pressed against him, until the three of you are all but squeezed together, in the middle of the hallway in Han Yujun’s house. Over Jisung’s mop of brown hair, you meet Minho’s gaze, and he looks so happy it makes you almost sick with joy. He presses a soft little kiss into Jisung’s hair and Jisung laughs, his shoulders shaking where’s buried between you.

Then he lifts his head, gives Minho a cheeky look, despite the single tear that runs down the pink apple of his cheek that Minho traces with his eye.

“She said it to me first, you know. So at least I have that,” he teases, and Minho blinks at him in disbelief before he barks out a laugh, softly removes one of his hands from you to catch Jisung’s chin between his hands.

“I love you, too, even though you’re a pain in my ass.”

Jisung beams, his whole face splitting into a beautiful heart-shaped smile. He nuzzles his chin further into Minho’s hold, tips his head up happily.

“I love you, too, you grumpy old cat,” he hums, before his expression turns cheeky, “and you wish I would finally be a pain in your ass. I’ll have you know I’m very good at it.”

The sudden laugh that bubbles out of you feels misshapen and odd, like your body is out of practice – but it warms you from the inside and it feels right. More right than anything you have ever felt in your life.

Minho’s gaze is fond and so, so soft as he looks from Jisung to you. But when the sound of a scuffle comes from downstairs, his expression hardens into a regretful scowl.

“We should get this over with,” he hums, blinks at the big doors down the hallway before looking back down at Jisung, then you.

“Be careful, okay? No sudden moves or decisions. We take no risks. If he moves, we pull the trigger.”

Minho waits until Jisung nods, then you. Then he dips down, presses a sweet kiss to Jisung’s lips, then yours. When he pulls back, he momentarily stops, blinks, a quiet kind of disbelief in his pretty eyes. But it disappears as quickly as it came, and he refocuses and steps back.

Jisung unfolds himself from you hesitantly, follows Minho’s eyes to the doors. He swallows.

“There’s a gun in the top left drawer of his desk, so don’t let him reach it,” Jisung explains. His brows are furrowed in concentration.

“In a situation like this, he wouldn’t be alone. Probably has at least one of his closest guards with him, if not two. And they’re ruthless, they won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes. So we need to act fast.” Minho nods, and Jisung looks at you.

“We’ll go in first. Minho, keep your gun drawn. Shoot him if you have to. I’ll go for the guard, if there’s only one, then you can–“

His sentence is interrupted by the faraway crack of a gunshot, the sound of glass shattering, something heavy hitting the floor and a yelp and then the heavy doors at the other end of the hallway fly open and Han Yujun, in all his half-bald, pot-bellied glory nearly falls flat on his face as he rushes out the door – only to be met by the three of you.

Minho moves in the blink of an eye, shoves you half behind him, draws his gun, and Jisung takes the few steps forward needed to block his uncle’s path.

Han Yujun freezes, pales, turns on his heels and makes back for his office and Minho takes off running, closely followed by both you and Jisung.

Han Yujun reaches his office first, tries to rush in and slam the door behind him, but Minho manages to shove his foot in the door just in time. He shoulders it open so hard it sends Han Yujun sprawling on the floor with a scream. Minho is on him within seconds, wrestling him until his face is pressed into the carpet. Yujun puts up a fight, writhes, and resists and spews curses, but Minho is stronger.

“Get off me, you disgusting pirate,” he squeaks, though his voice betrays his fear. He tries to free himself again, and Minho loses his temper. He drives his boot into Han Yujun’s ribs and he howls. Jisung next to you scoffs.

You let your eyes roam around the room, and you don’t have to look far for to find the reason for all the noise and Han Yujun’s panicked flight – a man in his guards’ uniform lies lifeless on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. There’s a neat hole in the side of his head. You leave him where he is. There’s nothing the living can do for him any more.

“Jisung, help me,” Han Yujun wails behind you, and it’s so fake it makes you sick. There’s a dull thud and a groan. You don’t have to look to know that Jisung put his fist into his face.

“Why would I help you?!” Jisung growls.

Behind the big, heavy desk, one of the panels of the windows is shattered. Cautiously, you step closer to the window and when you look down into the garden, behind a stone railing, amidst the bright pink English roses, your eyes meet Sungjin’s. Your former Captain’s best marksman. Of course.

You nearly laugh when he shoots you a smirk and a thumbs up.

By the time you turn around, Minho has managed to tie Han Yujun’s hands behind his back and is hoisting him to his feet. Jisung is watching from where he’s leaned against his uncle’s desk, arms crossed over his chest, a sour look on his face. Minho pulls his gun from his holster and digs it into Han Yujun’s back, hard.

“Let’s take a walk,” he growls and meets your eyes, wordlessly asking you to lead the way.

And you do. You leave the room first, followed by Minho, who’s guiding a bound Yujun with the barrel of his gun. Jisung marks the end of your procession, his hand on his knife, ready to strike any second. The distant sound of fighting all over the carefully kept grounds is still ringing through the eerily empty halls of the house.

Your mind is eerily calm here, right on the precipice of everything you’ve ever wanted.

You meet Changbin and Felix as you descend the stairs. Felix’s eyes go wide when he sees you, his glassy gaze locked behind you.

“Minho,” he gasps, and you think there may be tears in his eyes. Changbin is staring up at the three of you with wide eyes, one hand curled against his rapidly rising and falling chest, like he’s trying to hold it together.

You chance a look behind you, find Minho there, giving them a small smile, though his hands never falter on the gun pressed to Jisung’s uncle’s back, even when Hyunjin and Chan come hurrying down the right hallway and Hyunjin goes white as a sheet when he sees Minho.

As calmly as you can, you motion for them to keep calm, to follow you as you push through the front doors, into the blazing afternoon sunlight. You walk through the courtyard, where the water is still trickling down the fountain, down the path, past the azalea bushes until you’re in the front part of the yard.

There’s fighting going on all around you, clumps of your and the Captain’s men dotted around, fighting Han Yujun’s guardsmen, though their numbers are small, and they are uncoordinated and clumsy. You see some men from the town fighting among the pirates, wild and uncoordinated in their rage, but encouraged and helped along by the pirates. There must be more fighting around the back of the house, the sounds of which have been ringing in your ears this whole time; knives meeting, guns going off.

But you don’t pay any of it any mind. Soon it won’t matter any more.

You allow yourself a moment of melodrama, walk to the centre of the garden calmly, without looking behind you, left or right. But you’re hyperaware of the others behind you, their regular footsteps, and the fighting around you that becomes quieter, the whispering and the people that approach. You can feel their eyes on you when you stop in the centre of the garden, somewhere halfway between the front gate and the courtyard; in perfect view of everyone, both the ones fighting and the gaggle of onlookers that has gathered at the gates, looking in through the tall fences. This feels like a good place for the end of it all.

Hyunjin, Chan, and Felix form a loose circle around you, knives drawn. Jeongin and Seungmin join them. You see your men approach, Minho’s name falling from some of their lips with desperate sighs of relief. The air is electric with tension, anticipation.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your old Captain, Sungjin, more of his crew, some you know and some you don’t.

Minho lets go of Han Yujun pushes him closer to where you’re waiting, before he comes to stand behind you. His presence right there, only an arm’s reach away, soothes you more than you can describe. Jisung makes his way behind you, too, takes the spot on the other side so naturally as if he has always been there.

You feel invincible. You look down at the man below you.

Han Yujun stares at you, tries his best to be intimidating, but he makes a pitiful sight. His thinning hair is badly mussed, exposing his sunburned scalp and the spotty skin of his forehead. His face is pink and flushed and his eyes are small and cold, and they glimmer like a cornered animal’s. His chest heaves with a phlegmy breath. God, he makes you sick.

“Han Yujun,” you finally say. You let the words drop from your lips, calmly, coldly. You have all the time in the world now. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

Han Yujun scoffs, takes his time to look around at his audience, seemingly unfazed that they all stare at him with hatred. The Captain’s face is impassive, though you see it in his eyes. Changbin doesn’t even pretend to hide his disdain. There’s a cold, vicious smile on his face, more hateful than you’ve ever seen him before. But you understand. Han Yujun killed his little sister when she was only a child. Felix by Changbin’s side calmly wraps a hand around his arm.

“A public execution of a government official,” Han Yujun muses, his voice a lot more pompous than you thought he was capable of in a situation like this. He tugs at his restraints, but it’s futile. “You’ll hang for treason!”

He meets your eye, looking much too smug, given that his hands are literally tied behind his back. But you don’t bite, just look back at him steadily, coldly, until he starts fidgeting.

“I’m glad you know you’re going to die, that saves us all a lot of time,” you finally say, a deadly sweet smile on your lips.

Apparently not deadly enough because Han Yujun puffs up, takes a step towards you.

“Well, I can’t believe that really is your plan. I heard a lot about you, captain Y/N, but I never pegged you for a fool,” he singsongs, as he takes another step closer, staring into your eyes so intensely, with such a repulsive curiosity and self-satisfaction, it makes your fingers twitch at the handle of your knife.

“Let’s get me out of these ties, sit down,” he purrs, takes another step, his breath hitting your face now. Nobody dares to move. Changbin looks like he wants to intervene, tries to tug his arm free, but Felix won’t let him. “Maybe we can come to an agreement.”

You stand your ground, bile rising in your throat as he comes closer and closer, but you refuse to budge. Your shoulders are so tense, you start trembling.

He licks his lips, leans in as if to whisper into your ear, but before he can get any closer, Minho barrels past you.

He plants his boot in the middle of Han Yujun’s chest and shoves him so hard he flies backwards a few feet, crashing into the ground with a pained yell.

“You don’t fucking touch her, you understand?” Minho growls, his eye dark with rage as he stalks towards him. He brings his foot down onto Han Yujun’s throat, presses down until the man is gasping and whimpering. “You try something else, and you will meet Davy Jones with none of your limbs attached.”

Nobody dares move because his demeanour leaves no doubt that it’s not an idle threat. Minho throws a look back at you, his eye wild but soft, a quiet question if you’re okay, and you nod. Only then does he let up – but not before crushing his foot harder into Han Yujun’s windpipe, making him writhe and gurgle pathetically.

Minho turns and comes back to you, his arm brushing against yours as he returns to his spot behind you. Han Yujun is coughing and gasping on the floor, trying to regain his breath as he sits up, glares up at you. You wait patiently, every second calculated to allow him enough time to feel every second of your victory.

Han Yujun doesn’t attempt to get up again. You take a step towards him, your face still schooled into calm, but the hands crossed behind your back are shaking, against your will.

“Han Yujun, after we’re done with you, we will go into your house, and we will collect the evidence of everything you have done. Then we will deliver this to the crown, and they will find you guilty, convict you –of not only corruption, of price gauging, drug and human trafficking, prostitution and more, no – you will also be convicted of high treason, trying to stage a coup against the crown. Posthumously, of course,” you add sweetly, with a dangerous glint to your eyes.

Han Yujun’s eyes shake slightly. All around you, except for the sound of distant fighting, there’s silence. Your audience is glued to your lips.

“And then they will thank us. For sparing them having to dirty their noose with your vile, useless body.”

Han Yujun frowns.

“Why do you think you’ll find evidence of anything?”

Jisung on your left scoffs.

“Oh, please,” he laughs. It’s deadly cold. “I know you keep the records of all your above-board dealings in your office, and everything else under the floorboards in the drawing room. Third plank from the bookcase with the replica of the Victory, if I remember right?”

His uncle’s face swells, red rage rising to his cheeks as he glares at Jisung. There’s so much hatred in his gleaming little eyes, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I knew from the day you were born that you would bring shame upon this family,” Han Yujun spits, “I saw that you were a little sissy when you were five. And then you grew up like this, like a degenerate,” he gives him a disgusted once-over, “and I told your father! I told him you’d never grow up to be a real man, would disappoint his entire bloodline, but he wouldn’t hear it.”

Jisung’s breath has gotten ragged, and you feel his intention to move before he even takes a step. You reach your hand out, motioning for him to stay back and to his credit, he does, though the shaky breath he takes in betrays how much it takes him.

“Now look at you. Leading these unwashed, murderous lowlives right to your own family. Do you have any idea how hard we worked to get here? What it took for us to get these positions?”

“I do,” Jisung presses out, his voice trembling with emotion, “I know what it took. Blood. Lies. Deception. Corruption. The destruction of neighbourhoods, the killing and displacing of innocent people. And Appa knew it, too. It’s why he wanted out. It’s why he took the risk. It’s why he’s fucking dead.”

Jisung brushes your hand to the side and takes a step forward. You let him.

“And you piece of shit didn’t do anything. You let them take him. And Eomma, too. Hell, for all I know you told them where to find them,” Jisung yells, drags his sleeve over his face.

His hand finds his holster, and he pulls his gun, cocks it, points it right at his uncle’s head. His breath is ragged, and his body is trembling, but his hand is awfully still. It doesn’t waver from where it’s pointed.

“Captain,” Jisung, addresses you, calmly. There’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before.

“Permission to finally put us all out of our misery.”

You let your eyes wander over your audience, your crew, the townspeople, the other crew, familiar and unfamiliar faces, all waiting for the moment this finally ends. Your eyes meet the Captain’s. He holds your gaze.

“Captain?” Jisung asks again, and this time his voice audibly shakes. His other fist is balled at his side.

You can’t let Jisung wait any longer. You let your eyes rest on the back of his head and speak.

“Permission granted.”

A single beat of silence.

Then the gunshot rings clear over the grounds. Han Yujun’s dead body slumps back.

Another beat of silence.

Then the whole yard breaks out into deafening cheers.

It’s so loud, so sudden, so charged that it makes you flinch. You whip your head up to see men hugging each other, Hyunjin running to Minho to envelop him in a hug, the Captain, still looking at you, as calm as a statue surrounded by his cheering men, though there is a small proud smile on his lips. You nod to him and he nods back. It’s enough.

The only person who isn’t celebrating is Jisung. He’s still standing there, staring down at his uncle, his hand, that’s still holding the smoking gun, hanging limply by his side.

You approach him carefully, say his name softly. He barely turns his head. You inch closer, place a careful hand on his back, ever so gently rub it up and down. The muscles underneath your fingertips are so tense, they feel like they’re ready to snap.

“Jisung,” you breathe, low enough for only him to hear, “talk to me. Do you regret it?”

Jisung huffs out a laugh then, shakes his head, turns his head and meets your gaze with his big, beautiful, shining eyes. They’re full of tears. He tries to blink them away, and you wish you could tell him that you meant it when you said you never wanted him to hide them again, that you were ready to love every single one of them.

“God, no, that felt incredible,” he mumbles, wipes at his nose and sniffles, “I just think it’s so unfair that I will have to spend the rest of my life learning to live with what he has done. To everyone … but also to me.”

You hum, rubbing a thumb over the muscles in Jisung’s back soothingly, sliding your hand down until you can wrap your arm around him. He leans into you readily, folds his arm over your shoulder and pulls you closer.

“That’s what we all do every single day, so you’ll be in great company. But we have each other.”

Jisung blinks at you, then looks around, like he’s finally realising the celebration going on. He looks dazed. You squeeze him harder, and he rests his temple against yours.

You can’t help but smile.

“Welcome to the beginning of the rest of your life, Han Jisung.”

Minho watches over Hyunjin’s shoulder, as the captain and Jisung stand over the body of Han Yujun with their arms wound around each other. Hyunjin sobs, a wet, heartbreaking sound, and Minho pulls him closer, soothes his palm over Hyunjin’s narrow back, shushes him quietly.

Then another person wraps himself around his back, then another, and before he knows it, Minho finds himself enveloped by his crew, his friends, squeezing him, some smiling, some sniffling, some laughing and yelling his name in relief.

“Fuck, Min,” he hears Changbin mumble from where he’s wedged between Hyunjin’s back and someone else’s front, his hand coming up to ruffle Minho’s hair, “your eye! We really thought they got you.” Minho tries to laugh, but it doesn’t come out right, half wedged in his chest that feels like it’s about ready to burst.

“I couldn’t let that happen, could I,” he jokes, quietly, “who else would take care of all of you idiots.”

Hyunjin chokes out something that’s half sob and half laugh and buries his face in Minho’s neck. Minho can feel his tears wet his skin.

“God, I hate you so much,” he whines, “can’t you just be serious for once?!”

Minho smiles softly, meets Changbin’s eyes again. He pats Hyunjin’s hair.

“Aw, Jinnie, but I am. I’ll always come back to you. You’re all I have.” Hyunjin starts sobbing for real then, and Minho thinks he can even see Changbin blink away some tears. There are more sniffles, whoever is wrapped around his back, he thinks it’s Jeongin, squeezes him harder. From somewhere to the side, he catches Seungmin’s eye, then his fist in his arm.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Seungmin mumbles. It’s obvious that he tries to be stern, but the tear escaping his eye betrays him. Minho grins at him, reaches out blindly to ruffle his hair.

Changbin laughs quietly, wipes at his eyes, before he claps his hands. He mumbles something to the effect of “let’s not suffocate him” and the gaggle around Minho slowly thins until there’s only Hyunjin in his arms, Jeongin plastered over his back. But eventually, even they are pulled away, Hyunjin by Chan, who lets Hyunjin latch onto his arm and hide his splotchy face in his sleeve3, and Jeongin by Seungmin, but not before Seungmin punches Minho’s shoulder again.

Minho doesn’t resist his disappointment when he’s finally free – he allows himself to feel that he could’ve stayed in that embrace for a lot longer.

But he’s also starting to notice the strange pirates loitering around, a tall, older one currently speaking to the captain, Jisung and Felix, who had found his way to them, glued to Jisung’s free side, hands intertwined, like he’s trying to hold on to him now that the captain stepped back. Like Jisung would disappear again otherwise.

Gently, he steps out of the group of his crew, giving them a gentle smile as he makes his way to the captain. She turns around when she hears his footsteps. When her eyes meet his, she blinks, looks a little disoriented for a split second, before her lips pull into a beautiful smile.

“Min,” she exclaims. A pang of love hits him so hard he’s nearly dizzy. It’s their nickname, what she breathes into his lips when he kisses her, what she exclaims with her unfairly sexy annoyed voice when he does something stupid and petty. But she had never, ever used it in public, in front of their crew, in front of a stranger, in front of everyone. He would’ve remembered. God, he would’ve remembered because it would’ve given him so much hope.

“May I introduce you to my captain?”

Her captain. She had mentioned him before, in passing, so briefly she may as well haven’t. And Minho hadn’t pried, had taken all the little pieces she had surrendered to him and built himself his own idea. She had to run, the captain took her in, taught her all she knew, given her her ship. He had imagined him serious, tough. Older, maybe a little brittle. He tries to reconcile this idea with the tall, older man in front of her. He’s dressed in all black and does look strong, and like he can be tough, but he’s smiling. He also wears the same uncanny expression in his intelligent eyes that the captain gets when she’s analysing him.

Minho steps forward, stiffly, tries his best to smile at the man, who studies him carefully. He gives a calculated, stiff bow.

“Lee Minho,” he offers, “the captain’s second in command.”

The tall pirate keeps his eyes on him, bores his gaze into Minho’s and Minho finds himself wishing stupidly, desperately for him to approve of him.

“Recently come back from the dead?”

Minho grimaces, but nods.

“Well,” the strange captain says with a gentle smile, “your crew filled your shoes well while you were gone.”

Minho blinks, but the stranger just laughs. It’s not an unkind laugh, but Minho finds himself bristling against his will. Felix throws him a look. He hates to be reminded of what he missed; The stranger, the captain’s former captain, a whole crew she probably knows, a whole lifetime without Minho, and now also two weeks of her, without him, without Jisung. He hates not knowing what happened, hates that she felt whatever she felt, and he wasn’t there to hold her through it, take some of it onto himself, anything to ease her pain.

The stranger nods at the captain.

“I’ll take my men, and we’ll see what we can find of value in this piece of shit’s house.”

“1542,” Jisung says. The strange captain whips around to him, raises an eyebrow.

Jisung shrugs with a lopsided smirk that is so infuriatingly hot it makes Minho want to kiss it off him. Jisung loops a casual arm around the captain’s waist.

“The combination to the safe in his office. It’s where he keeps most of his gold. There and in the top drawer of the armoire in the master bedroom. It has a false bottom.”

The man regards Jisung for a second, then bellows out a laugh.

“Thank you, Mr Han.”

Jisung grimaces, waves him off.

“Please, just … Jisung.”

The stranger sticks out his hand to Jisung, who shakes it proudly.

“Well, Jisung, I’ll make sure to buy you a drink in thanks later.”

Then, he turns to the captain.

“Because I’m sure there will be a celebration of what you have achieved here today.”

He gives the captain a wink.

“Anyway, you will excuse me.”

The captain nods, bows almost imperceptibly as the stranger walks off, waves to some of his crew to follow him into the house.

As soon as they’re alone, Felix sighs out and turns to the captain, who finds his gaze almost immediately. He watches quietly as Felix and the captain fall into each other’s arms, Felix wordlessly hooks his chin over the captain’s shoulder and closes his eyes. He rocks her back and forth soothingly, rubs a palm over her back, and she squeezes him back almost desperately. The stab of jealousy in his chest comes before he can stop it and remind himself that she … loves him. She loves him.

“It’s over now,” Felix whispers to her, and he sounds happy, but he also sounds … tired. Minho meets Jisung’s eyes, catches him also watching Felix and the captain with big, unblinking eyes.

And even when Felix steps back and the captain smiles at him and calls for the crew so they can make their way into the house – it’s like he suddenly can’t stop noticing how almost imperceptibly, but undeniably, everyone had changed. The bags under Felix’s eyes, the way he looks a little thinner than he did before as he follows behind the captain, who leads them into the house. Right behind Changbin, unshakeable, strong Changbin, who also looks so incredibly tired. Pale and nervous, an edge to his voice when he tells Felix to stay behind him, to be careful, one hand stretched out protectively in his direction, despite the relative safety of the house now that the rest of Han Yujun’s men are long gone, flown into the woods or to the harbour, or slaughtered by the waiting mob.

Hyunjin behind him is still sniffling, and there’s no indication of him stopping. Chan walks next to him, deep bags under his own eyes, his hand ready at the small of Hyunjin’s back as if he’s ready to catch him anytime.

Minho walks right behind the captain, Jisung by his side. He can’t, doesn’t want to allow himself to be any more than a single step behind her at all times. His good eye scans every room, every doorway, every single bend dark corner of the house, laser focused on anything that could possibly go wrong because the mere thought of losing her now … He can’t even bear the thought.

I love you, Min. The words play in his head over and over again, her voice so broken, yet so gentle, so full of sunshine and warmth and conviction as she said the words he had told himself he could live without ever hearing. And he told her he loved her, too, of course he did, because there was never a single shred of doubt in his mind about that. But it’s not enough. He hasn’t said everything else yet. So many years of his devotion, bottled up in his bruised, stretched out heart, ready to burst forth. He’s always been ready, but now he’s finally allowed to love her, her who has consumed his entire being, who is the best, kindest, strongest person he has ever met …

She who looks so, so fragile right now. Her voice is still clear and strong and full of authority as she gives her orders, her mind clear and her decisions immediate, but something about her is off. Maybe it’s just because he knows her so well, but her eyes look tired, and he can see how her shirt hangs more loosely on her tense shoulders. There’s also a tremor in her hand that wasn’t there before, and it drives him crazy. His fingertips burn with the need to touch her, to hold her hand until it stops shaking, to pull her into his arms, to get Jisung within reach again, to touch, and protect and love, God, love them with everything he has because he’s been a fool to ever think he was made for anything else. And he knows it’s safe now, he knows it’s over, but his body didn’t seem to get the memo because his body is thrumming with unnamed anxiety that makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He tries to catch Jisung’s eyes, but he slips away from him, the captain ordering him downstairs, to retrieve the papers from the secret stash he talked about. Jisung goes, though clearly unwillingly, flanked by Hyunjin and Chan, and with it goes the last shred of Minho’s sanity.

And then Minho is alone with the senseless dread buzzing in his veins. He remains stationed by the door, eyes glued to the hallway, ears straining for any sign of danger and deaf to anything else the captain and the crew say. He curses the fact that his eye is fucked, that he didn’t turn away when he should have because now he’s completely blind to anything happening on his left side, and it’s risky.

The thought alone makes his heartbeat thud in his ears so loudly that it makes every creak of the old house sound deafeningly loud and yet not loud enough, like he’s constantly one step behind, missing something crucial, like someone could jump out where he can’t see them or come barreling down the hallway, gun in hand, and he wouldn’t be able to judge how far away they are and fail to stop them and …

He only snaps out of it when they’re back outside in the setting sun, regrouping on the trampled grass of the now deserted yard, and Felix pulls him aside.

“Breathe,” Felix murmurs, squeezes Minho’s arm gently, then firmer, when Minho doesn’t respond, until Minho finally gulps down a breath of air, tears his eyes away from where he hadn’t even realised they were glued to the captain. He meets Felix’s worried gaze.

“Shit, sorry,” Minho mumbles, blinks. He tries to take a step back, but Felix doesn’t let him. His grip is firm and grounding. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m freaking out now. We won, didn’t we …”

Felix chuckles softly. He looks tired again. He rubs Minho’s arm comfortingly.

"There’s no timeline for this kind of stuff, Minho.”

Minho watches the captain a ways off, as she scribbles down the combination to the safe in her office so Jeongin can take the evidence back to the ship and stow it away safely. Felix follows his gaze.

“She’s okay.”

Minho shakes his head. He wants to shield his concern in something less vulnerable, but he doesn’t have the strength to find any fake words, so he just asks.

“Was it bad?”

Felix looks at him, eyes searching his for a few seconds before he sighs.

He tells him about it all, then, as they make their way away from Han Yujun’s house, down the loud, winding streets, filled with locals and children who run from house to house, cheer and celebrate and run to bring them gifts, ones they try to deny but can’t because they insist, tears of gratitude in their eyes.

The air of celebration can do nothing to soothe the lancing, aching pain that blooms in Minho’s chest when Felix finally tells him everything he had been so desperate to hear, though Minho can tell he’s sparing him the most gruesome details. Minho lets him; He’s more fragile than he cares to admit. Felix tells him how, when they heard the gunshot, the captain had screamed and screamed, that it had felt like she would never stop, before she collapsed into a feverish daze, mumbling and sobbing so hard she could barely walk. Tells him, with reverence, how gently Chan had picked her up, cooed sweet nothings to her as he held her, rocked her back and forth in an effort to stop her from crying. How pale Jeongin had been as he said that she shouldn’t be alone, that he could stay with her, but how Seungmin had stepped forward to tell him not to be stupid, that they needed their lookout and their lookout needed rest, and how Felix had volunteered without even thinking, suggesting Jisung’s empty cot in his cabin for her to rest.

Felix paints so vivid a picture, it’s like Minho can see them all walk down the stairs, a quiet procession following Chan, with the captain in his arms, none of them ready to leave each other after what happened. He can picture them waiting outside, consoling each other, can see Chan gently place her on her feet in Felix’s cabin, Jeongin stepping forward, speaking softly, tears in his eyes as he takes her heavy boots and coat off, combs her hair carefully before he guides her into bed. And it hurts him so much it briefly blinds him.

He stumbles, and Felix’s hand shoots out, wraps around his arm immediately.

“Minho? Are you okay?” he asks, concern laced into his deep voice. Minho nods blindly, motions for him to go on.

“Are you sure? Do you really want me to continue?”

Minho nods again.

“I … need to know,” he says, forces his voice to steady and his gaze to meet Felix’s. Because he does. He can’t stand not knowing.

So Felix takes Minho’s hand, and he tells him about how she had calmed down slightly with the smell of Jisung lingering around her, but how Felix had refused to leave her. How he had spent that night with her, and how they had found their way back into Jisung’s cot night after night afterwards, how they cried in each other’s arms. How the whole crew had made a meticulous plan, swallowing their own pain as best as they could so that even when the captain came to, marched onwards, set her jaw and steeled herself and kept going, on and on to Han Yujun’s demise, she never had to be alone. And God, their pain. Felix just keeps talking, how Changbin wasn’t able to keep his food down for three days after it happened until Chan started cutting all his meals so small it was basically mush. How drunk Jeongin got one night, threatening to throw himself off the top until Seungmin, fear of heights be damned, climbed up to him and held him through his tears. How Felix was barely able to keep himself on his feet for long enough to cook for them all, but how every day, there were at least 4 of them that found their way into the kitchen, taking Felix’ every order, helping him chop vegetables and stir potatoes and ensured there would be dinner on the table.

Minho’s chest feels like it’s ready to burst. It’s not like he thought the crew didn’t care about him but – he knows what he’s like. He knows he’s callous and short-tempered. He says things he doesn’t mean and lashes out instead of talking about what bothers him. Most days, he figured, the only reason they kept him around was because he was good with a sword, because he protected them. And he was fine with that.

But now, with Felix’s small hand in his, his tired eyes vouching for the truth of all the pain Minho’s supposed death had caused – Minho realises that maybe, just maybe, he’s more loved than he thought. And the knowledge threatens to overwhelm him.

And then there’s the captain, the crew. How closely they all stuck together, cared for each other, picked up the slack whenever one of them couldn’t go on any more. He knew they were strong together, but God, despite it all, the captain, the crew – none of them had been truly alone.

Felix looks at him with a soft smile.

“You would’ve been proud,” he sighs, and Minho wonders if somewhere along the way he learned how to read minds. “Chan and Changbin took turns sleeping at night, so one of the could stand guard at our door, even while we were at sea. Just in case we needed anything. Hyunjin and Chan refused to leave her side, even when the strange captain glared at them when he was trying to talk to her.”

Minho opens his mouth, but no words come. It’s like he has been wrung dry, and what he does feel is too much, too big for words now. He blinks at Felix with tears beading in his lashes.

“We really need you, Min,” Felix mumbles, quietly, “not just the captain needs you, not just Jisung. We all do. It nearly killed us when we thought we lost you.”

Minho chokes out a laugh, and before he can overthink it, he pulls Felix into a hug. Felix yelps in surprise, but he wraps his lithe arms around Minho’s middle and squeezes hard.

“Thanks, Lix,” he mumbles, “for … for everything.” For taking care of her. For loving him. For loving all of them. For being a part of the crew. All of that and more is what he wants to say, but he can’t get it out.

Felix wraps his arm tighter around Minho, nuzzles his nose into his shoulder, and Minho can’t help but smile.

“Thanks for coming back,” he mumbles back.

Minho pulls back, chuckles awkwardly as he wipes some stray tears away. Felix grins at him.

“Who knew you could be so soft, hm?”

Minho rolls his eyes, cuffs him in the shoulder so hard Felix squeaks, and keeps walking.

“Or I guess I know who knows …” Felix sing-songs, puts a little skip in his step, dodges Minho’s next playful fist, “two people, to be exact.”

Minho’s blush races up to the tips of his ears embarrassingly quickly.

“Shut up …” he mumbles. It’s looming, but he can’t handle thinking about the implications of everyone knowing about them right now.

“It’s okay, Min,” Felix hums, and throws an arm around his shoulders. They’re approaching a tavern at the end of the street, golden light streaming through its windows into the already golden light of the waning day, the gaggle of people, men, women, children, that has been following them through town, having only grown, and now weaving together with the crowd already waiting in front of the tavern, waving them in with loud cheers.

Felix nudges his shoulder with his own.

“Before it all went down, when Jisung disappeared into the captain’s quarters every day … Hyune and I … well, we may have spoken to the crew. Primed them, let them know just how serious things might get between you three.”

Minho’s ears burn hotter. He wants to hide.

“For all you knew, it could’ve just been a casual thing. A temporary thing.”

Felix scoffs, raises an eyebrow that makes Minho’s ears burn hotter.

“As if anything could ever be casual with you and the captain involved. Everyone can see it every time you look at each other. And then they could see it when you looked at Jisung.”

Minho cringes, tries to shake Felix off again, but he just grins, clearly very pleased with himself.

“Don’t worry about it! Hyune and I were able to clear up some questions, get them used to the idea. They were a little weirded out about the idea at first, but now nothing stands in your way.”

“Get them used to the idea of what exactly?” Minho asks, cautiously, his heart beating in his throat. Felix shrugs, casually, almost carelessly, as if nothing could break his mood now.

“Whatever you want it to be. You and the captain, the captain and Jisung, hell, you and Jisung.”

Minho looks at him, and it must be written all over his face because Felix throws his head back and laughs. Minho blushes hard, groans.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t mess with you after the day you’ve had. And with your fucked up eye and all. Yes, Min, also you and the captain and Jisung … all together, the three of you, in whatever arrangement.”

Minho lets out a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“I don’t … I don’t think I can even think about that right now,” he mumbles, more to himself than to Felix, but Felix just nods, drags him faster towards the tavern.

“Then don’t! Let’s just celebrate tonight! Let go, let loose. With the knowledge that they’re yours– ”

He stops, gives Minho a look.

“They are yours, right? Because the captain and Jisung …”

Minho can’t help the crooked grin that slips into his lips. Felix squeals, slips his cold hands into Minho’s.

“God, I’m so happy for you. We’ve all been waiting for this day for so long, you have no idea!”

He’s beaming so wide that the last of Minho’s resolve melts easily. Felix laughs, turns and tugs Minho closer to the tavern doors.

“And all the more reason to celebrate!” he yells before he drags him through the doors.

As soon as they step into the tavern, they’re welcomed with cheers and drinks on the house by the barkeep, who immediately uncorks a whole barrel of rum and sends the boy for the local band to come and play music. Minho watches as the captain gets whisked away into the crowd of people and is about to follow her when someone slings an arm over his shoulder and drags him to the bar. He loses sight of Felix immediately.

“She’ll be okay by herself for a moment, Minho,” Changbin laughs, rum already heavy on his breath. “Let’s get you a drink and make a toast!”

Hyunjin and Chan are already at the bar, greeting Minho with a chuckle when they see him throwing looks at the captain, and he blushes too deeply. The fact that they know about it all is still … something Minho has to get used to.

Changbin motions to the barkeep, who slides two glasses of rum over to them. Changbin doesn’t waste any time, shoves one into Minho’s hand.

“To you and Jisung coming back from the dead!”

“We didn’t …”

Chan claps Minho on the back so hard, he nearly chokes on his spit.

“We thought you were! For two whole weeks! We had to scrape our captain off the floor, too. So for all intents and purposes, for us, you came back from the dead!”

Minho grimaces, feels a prickle of anxiety on the back of his neck and he turns again. The captain is on the other side of the tavern, surrounded by locals and other pirates who are talking to her. There’s a drink in her hand and Minho wonders if someone got it for her, if it’s safe.

A man comes up to her, tears in his eyes, stuttering and stumbling over his words as he thanks her. Minho can see her tense shoulders, her helpless hands, the sheer disbelief on her features as she tries to calm him down. When another man comes up to shake her hand, loudly praising her as their saviour, he can see her neck flush harder. The anxiety alleviates a little, and he can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. She deserves this.

Hyunjin nudges him, draws his attention back to them, and nods at his glass.

He feels himself blush, but ignores it. He raises his glass with an exaggerated, fake sigh.

“Alright then, to me and Jisung coming back from the dead!”

Hyunjin, Chan and Changbin raise their glasses with a cheer.

“We came back from the dead?” Jisung’s voice comes from behind Minho.

When he turns around, there he is, with Felix, Jeongin and Seungmin in tow, appearing in front of Minho like a vision of honeyed, glistening skin and happiness. The smile on his face is unreal, and Minho wonders, not for the first time, and definitely not the last, how he does it, when Minho’s heart feels like it’s struggling against the weight of the years every time it beats.

He effortlessly threads his arm into Minho’s, rests his fingers on his wrist. Minho’s ears burn hotter, the embarrassment and affection mixing into a dangerous cocktail of feelings.

Hyunjin sighs dramatically and leaves Chan’s side, only to collapse into Jisung’s free side, letting his head drop onto his shoulder.

“You have no idea what we went through when the captain came back without you. She nearly went out of her mind when she had to leave you behind.”

Jisung’s lips pull into a pout.

“I told her it would be fine …”

Minho scoffs. Pain lances through him. Regret.

“I did, too. She didn’t like that.”

He can still hear her sobbing, gasping for breath behind a locked door that he was about to kick down when Changbin found him and dragged him away.

Seungmin sends him a glare.

“You were being an asshole about it,” he quips, “and you were clearly worried, you were white as a sheet. You were just trying to play it off.”

Jisung scrapes his nails over the sensitive skin of Minho’s wrist, and Minho shivers.

“Aw, were you worried about me? That’s so sweet, Minho,” he singsongs, a teasing smile on his lips. Minho glares at him now, though he knows his eyes hold no edge. He long lost the ability to be rough to Jisung.

“Dumbass,” he grumbles, nonetheless, "of course I was. You’re not known for your sense of self-preservation.”

Jisung huffs, but his pout quirks up at the edges. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Well, thank God I have such a strong pirate to protect me then,” he coos, nudges Minho, flutters his eyelashes up at him, so cutely Minho has to narrow his eyes by force, lest he melt on the spot. There was only one thing that flustered him more than Han Jisung, pettily and pointlessly angry at him, and that was Jisung, so brazenly, saucily flirting with him.

“You guys are disgustingly cute, even without the captain,” Jeongin sighs, “what even happened? How did you manage to find each other before we did?”

Minho sighs.

“It’s a long story.”

He empties his rum in one long drag and motions for the bartender to bring him another. Jisung’s fingers slip in between his, his thumb rubs over the back of his hand. Minho feels love singe him from the inside. He wants so badly.

“When they took me, after they made me kneel there and shot into the sky to make you believe I was dead, they dragged me into their hold and who do I see? Jisung, with a split lip, blood caked into his shirt, sulking in one of the cells. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw me, thought he was concussed, and I was a hallucination. And also nearly gave us away by getting too excited.”

“Excited?!” Jisung exclaims, indignant, “I was kidnapped, ready to be shipped back to my uncle to be killed and probably actually concussed because I broke Trott’s nose, and they beat me up, and in you walk, half your face smashed in, covered in blood. You scared the shit out of me!”

Minho can’t help the fondness that seeps into his eyes.

“I guess I looked pretty bad …”

“No offence to your gorgeous face, but you looked awful. I was so worried your eye was going to get infected,” Jisung says, pouting again.

Minho shrugs.

“So then we spent about a week locked in there, pretending not to know each other whenever someone came to check on us. Though in reality, we spent every waking second plotting our escape for when we were in Han Yujun’s cells. Jisung, once again, saving our asses with his incredible memory and the knowledge of his uncle’s business.”

Jisung straightens, preens under the praise. There’s a glint of pride in his eyes.

“My uncle has always been a cheapskate. I figured pretty much anything could pick the cheap locks on his basement cells, as long as it was long and thin enough. And conveniently enough, the cots we were sleeping on were just old wooden crates, with all sizes of nails hammered into them.”

Minho hums, turns back to their audience.

“But we knew that if we just escaped, we would likely not make it very far. And we knew it was only a matter of time before you would arrive.”

“How could you be so sure? Did you know we thought you were dead?”

Minho falters for the briefest moment.

“I figured nothing would stop the captain from completing her life’s mission. Especially not just my death.”

“Just your death?” Changbin breathes out in disbelief. Hyunjin is staring at Minho almost angrily and Minho regrets his choice of words immediately. “Minho, the mission was the only thing keeping us going. Without that, who knows what would have happened. Chan and I were so wired, we only slept alternate nights, taking turns to sit guard to sit in front of Felix’s cabin.”

The pain blooms again, and Jisung stiffens next to him.

“Felix’s cabin?” he asks quietly, a nameless worry in his voice.

Minho’s heart aches.

“The captain and I … slept in your bed. Every night,” Felix says, quietly, sheepishly, blushing a deep red, more embarrassment than shame.

Minho watches closely as Jisung freezes, blinks – watches his bottom lip quiver as the knowledge sinks in.

“We couldn’t leave her alone, and it was the only thing that calmed her down because seeing Minho’s things in her own cabin made her break down – and Felix just … refused to leave her after that first night,” Chan explains hastily. Jisung’s bottom lip quivers harder. The revelation that Minho’s things made her break down aches deep in Minho’s bones.

With a choked up little sob, Jisung lets go of his arm and throws himself into Felix’s arms, who catches him readily, and wraps him into a tight hug.

“Lix,” Jisung howls, squeezes Felix harder, “ Lix that is so … how … why … oh my god.”

Felix laughs sadly, rubs a hand over Jisung’s back. When Jisung pulls back, Felix gives Minho a look.

“I didn’t know if you were alive. Hope wasn’t really … well, I pretended to have it, because the captain didn’t have any, and I felt like she needed a reason to keep going, but really … I didn’t dare hope, either.”

Changbin sighs, Hyunjin’s face darkens.

“Keeping the captain from doing something stupid was a full-time job,” he mumbles, and for a brief second, Minho feels his world almost spin out of control. He turns again, scans over the crowd until he finds her, animatedly talking to a woman with a child on her hip, the baby’s meaty little fingers wrapped around the captain’s thumb, the captain’s eyes sparkling as she coos at the little thing. As if the captain could feel his gaze on her, she turns, finds him effortlessly. There’s a pretty little blush. Her eyelids flutter, ever so slightly. Then she smiles.

A ripple of cheers runs through the tavern, but Minho holds the captain’s gaze for a second, as if to reassure himself that she’s alive, before he turns back around.

It doesn’t take long to identify the reason for the commotion. The tall, strange pirate commanding everyone’s attention when he walks in surrounded by his crew. The tavern, already full enough to burst, becomes louder and more raucous yet. And it seems that with the pirates, the band arrived, because only a few minutes later, the first notes of a jig sound from somewhere on the other side of the tavern and a cheer runs through the crowd.

The barkeep appears in front of them then, slides another round of rum towards them with a toothy grin.

“From the tall fella’, over there,” he yells over the noise, “though I did tell ‘im it was all free ‘a charge tonight anyways. But he said it was the principle of th’ thing.”

When Minho lifts his eyes, he meets the strange captain’s eyes. He grins at them, lifts his hat in greeting, and bows lightly to Jisung, who blushes and bows back.

“Guess your advice was good,” Minho laughs, pulls Jisung back into his side, revels in the way he willingly wraps his arm around his waist. He hands Jisung one of the drinks, and they all cheers, loudly, Minho and Jisung raising their glasses over to the stranger and the men of his crew around him.

“So,” Jeongin asks, once their drinks are emptied, “I still wanna know. How did you end up escaping?”

“We waited until we heard two of the guards on duty to watch us talk about a privateer ship docking at the harbour,” Minho explains, “though in hindsight that was probably whoever that is over there. Then I picked the locks, took care of those sorry excuses Han Yujun hired for his guards, got Jisung out, and we split up. Took the fight to them, one by one, until you arrived to back us up.”

“We arrived at least an hour, if not two, after the other crew,” Seungmin observes, narrows his eyes at Minho, “how could you have possibly held them off for 2 hours?”

Minho feels his own neck burn up, but the rum in his blood has long made itself known, injecting him with more confidence than he would usually have.

“Well, maybe we didn’t leave to fight them immediately …” he hums. He tries hard not to sound too cocky about it, but it’s hard when he can feel Jisung squirm against him, and the memory of him basically jumping him as soon as he unlocked the door is still more than fresh in his memory.

Seungmin stares at him for a beat, then recoils with a disgusted scoff.

“Ugh, fucking gross,” he grunts and motions for the bartender to get him another drink. The tips of his ears are bright pink.

“Still risky, though,” Chan comments, seemingly already moved on from Minho’s dirty revelation, “timing it like that.”

Minho shrugs.

“You did take longer than expected and threw us off when talk of the second privateer ship got around in the house, but it was only a matter of time.”

Changbin shakes his head, reaches over and slaps Minho over the back of the head so hard, Minho actually flinches.

“Fucking dumbass,” he grumbles, “fucking risking your life like that. Again.”

A happy little laugh bubbles out of Jisung’s chest, before he protectively pulls Minho out of Changbin’s grasp and slaps at Changbin’s hands.

“Stop attacking my strong pirate bodyguard!” he squeals, with a fake scowl, “I will not hesitate to kick you in the shin again!”

That pulls a laugh out of all of them, even Changbin, who narrows his eyes, plays along readily.

“Well, the captain’s not here, so this time, I will kick back,” he yells, throws a dramatic fist into the air and Felix nearly falls off his barstool giggling.

Minho feels himself speak before he can stop himself.

“Then I’d kick you right back, I have sworn to protect this idiot, after all.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Hyunjin stares at him, and Minho’s heart rockets into his throat, suddenly painfully aware of just how out of character his little joke had just been. But then Hyunjin’s eyes crease up, and he giggles, and the spell is broken. Minho breathes a sigh of relief.

Jisung turns, wraps his arm tighter around Minho’s waist and looks up at him with a theatrical gasp.

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

Minho can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line, not something you call yourself?”

Jisung pouts, blinks up at him, and he’s so, so gorgeous it makes Minho’s head spin a little.

“Well, if you won’t do it, I have to take the initiative,” he exclaims and Minho rolls his eyes again, but he lets his hand splay over the small of Jisung’s back, lets his fingers whisper over the sliver of exposed skin there. Jisung stares back at him, eyes softening until Minho thinks he could drown in them.

But they’re painfully interrupted by Felix, pulling Jisung right out of Minho’s grasp.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit from you two, my best friend just came back to life, I want to celebrate!”

He drags Jisung towards the middle of the room where people have moved the tables aside to form a haphazard dance floor, and Jisung goes willingly, with an apologetic smile to Minho, who swallows his irritation and just sighs.

He sticks around with the others for a while, has another drink that makes his body hum and his vision fuzzy, listens to Chan tell him about the terrified kitchen staff they had found holed up in Han Yujun’s pantry earlier today, who barely allowed them to help them out the door before they ran, and watches as Jisung and Felix dance, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, swaying their hips, pivoting each other away from prying eyes and strange, wandering hands, giggling and laughing.

But his gaze returns again and again to the captain. After watching her float through the room, thanked and congratulated and celebrated over and over again, it seems that she has finally found a moment of rest.

She’s by herself, sat in front of an open window, on the back of a heavy wooden bench that doubles as a windowsill. Her posture suggests a calm that Minho has rarely seen in her outside of her own quarters, let alone somewhere as public like as a tavern. She’s leaning back against the window frame, head leaning against the thick wood, her eyes lazily roving over the crowd. There’s a soft smile on her lips, a glass of rum dangling from her elegant fingers. The tip of her boot sways to the beat of the music.

And he’s struck again just how breathtakingly beautiful she is. And how much she’s like nobody else he has ever met. He could call it charisma, or confidence, or authority, but it all seems too simple a word for the energy that radiates from her. He has had the privilege to see her in so many forms – at her best, at the helm of the ship, of her crew, her eyes sparkling with determination, a calculated violence and ruthlessness guiding her always skilled, always steady hands. The flip side of it, her other best, when she turns around at the mere sound of one of them getting hurt, defending every single one of her crew like they’re her own flesh and blood. The same care and love for every single human being when she finds people who are hurt, when she finds new recruits. The way she looks at them and seems to see in them more than anyone else can. Her innate ability to see the best and the worst in people, but most importantly, to see their fears and their potential. Like the day they picked up Felix, and the captain wrapped him in her coat, guided him back to the ship with a soothing hand on his back. Like the day they captured Jisung, and somehow, she saw through everything that set off the alarm bells in Minho’s head so badly he hated his guts for weeks.

And then the side of her only he got to see. Soft, desperate, needy. Her usually steady hands trembling against his skin, pulling at his wrists to get him closer, whispering about how much she needed him. The words, despite their context, never failing to make him reel. Or when she was underneath him, eyes fluttered shut, body beautifully bared to him and only him, entrusted to him because she knew he would keep her safe, would do anything for her. Her pleasure, his charge. His privilege to give her.

And even the darker moments, the ones he coveted quietly, a sick sort of pride in the knowledge that they were also his to keep. The occasional flickers of doubt, the shadows of fear. The darkness that would cloud her eyes sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere, that made her body unnaturally still, her breathing catch in her throat. The moments she hid from everyone because she thought they would make her less … less what, Minho wonders. Less of a leader? Less trustworthy? Less strong? Less lovable? As if these weren’t the moments that solidified for Minho, more than any others, that this was someone he would follow until the ends of the earth. Someone he would break his own heart over again and again and again, if it meant he was able to stay in her orbit. Her magical, addictive orbit, one he could never resist. One, he thinks, he will find himself in in his next life, and the one after that, and the one after that – if something like that exists. Maybe if he ever meets Ryujin again, he can ask her if it does.

Maybe it’s her orbit that draws him over to her now, pushing through the crowd, drawn in by her energy until she spots him, smiles at him, straightens up only enough to stretch an arm towards him.

He lets himself reach for her, too, lets his fingers intertwine with hers, lets himself be pulled closer, onto the back of the bench with her, until he can feel her leg press against his, and he’s right back in her orbit, her energy prickling through his veins and the smell of her hair in his nose.

Slowly, carefully, dancing the same sweet, covert dance they have played so many times before, he lets his leg rest agains hers. And despite it all, despite how many times they’ve done this, despite the three magical words that have so easily dripped from her lips earlier, his heart skips an uneven beat when she leans hers against his. He wonders if he could ever get used to it.

“I can’t believe we did it,” she hums, quietly.

He looks over at her, finds her still looking into the crowd of raucous, drunken people, before she turns to him and smiles. “I can’t believe we actually did it.”

Minho remembers all the years they spent, all the frustration and the setbacks and the pain when they lost again and again and again. The year they got so close before he eluded them again, when she locked him out of her quarters for an entire week. The time when they only narrowly eluded the coast guard that Han Yujun had sicced on them. The year they didn’t elude it, and they had to break Changbin out of jail.

But, his body also unhelpfully reminds him now, with her leg pressed against his, the sound of her voice telling him she loved him still warm and honeyed in his ears, of the year after that, the small victory of uncovering the drug ring that was funnelling roofies into the brothels of Nassau, when she dragged him into the kitchen while everyone was in the common area celebrating and kissed him so hard and demanding he felt his blood rush to his cock in record time before she sank to her knees, right there, where anyone could’ve walked in. He had never gotten over the headrush of it, her readiness to let him have his way with her almost in public. The closest thing to her love he thought he could ever have. But now here he was. He forces his mind out of the gutter, his gaze back to the dancers. He sees Felix’s blonde mop of head jumping around somewhere in the back.

The captain hands him her drink and he takes a sip.

“I always knew we would, eventually,” he offers, tries to get the conversation back on track because he finds he misses her voice already. She sighs.

"I mean, I guess I did, too, but it took so long, and we failed so many times, and then we lost all the evidence and … I just really thought it might never happen.”

She leans forward, rests her chin in her hand, her elbow on her leg.

“I guess I thought that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, you know. That we weren’t strong enough, not smart enough, didn’t want it enough. That we never stood a chance.”

Minho scoffs, turns back to her, and finds himself so close to her, he can smell the rum on her breath. Desire rushes through him so fast it almost makes him dizzy. Desire and love, though the two have always been intertwined when it comes to her.

“Captain,” he murmurs, watches her eyelids flutter, gaze dropping down to his lips so briefly he thinks he imagined it, “you were always strong enough. It was only a matter of time. For fate to finally help us find the last piece of the puzzle. I never doubted it would be you who finally took him down.”

He watches her fluster, her eyes waver, fall down to the floor, her lashes fanning over her cheeks like they do when she’s asleep. One separates, comes to rest on her cheekbone. He reaches out, brushes it away softly. Her skin under his fingertips drives him crazy.

She smiles at him, briefly leans into his touch, before her attention is drawn back into the room, where the music comes to a stuttering halt and someone stumbles his way through the crowd and onto a chair in the middle of the room. A chuckle runs through the room when he nearly tumbles onto the floor.

Minho nearly laughs out loud when he sees it’s Kim Seungmin. He tries again and this time, Seungmin manages to climb up and stand tall over the crowd. And despite his flushed cheeks and uneven feet, he finds the captain immediately. His voice, too, is surprisingly stable.

“I’m a little bit drunk, and I’m sure everyone who knows me will never let me live this down for as long as I live, but I have something I wanted to say,” he begins. The room quiets down to listen.

“Not many of you know this, actually, because I have never told the story and because, frankly, nobody has ever asked, but I have been with the captain since the very first day. I met her the day she stumbled onto our former captain’s ship,” he says, with a bow in the direction of where Minho can see the strange pirate’s hat tower over everyone.

Through his own surprise, his confusion as he tries to puzzle out how none of them had ever asked, watches Hyunjin’s mouth fall open on the other side of the room, hears San yell out a “what the fuck, Seungmin!” that makes the crowd chuckle. Seungmin just shrugs and lifts his hand, and the room quiets down again. Minho’s almost impressed with how well he handles the crowd.

“Years later, when she picked me to go with her when our captain gave her her ship, I went willingly. And I still remember the first night on the new ship like it was yesterday. Just her, me, and three other crew mates from the Captain’s crew, sailing into the unknown on a ship that was too big for us to realistically man. The uncertainty. The doubts. But then dawn broke, and she rallied us all into the kitchen, sat us down, brewed us coffee and scrambled some eggs and told us her plan for recruitment, for money, for how she wanted to refurbish the common room we all know and love today, everything, like she hadn’t slept at all that night and just figured it out. She told me then, on that very first day, that she wanted me to be her navigator. And mind you, I had never told anyone about my interest in cartography, in navigation, only sneaking books from land, and drawing in my spare time, in whatever corner of the ship I could hide when I wasn’t on swabby duties. But the captain had noticed.”

Minho turns to the captain next to him, who is watching Seungmin with rapt attention, a deep blush on her soft cheeks, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. She looks younger than she ever has, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how she looked when Seungmin met her. If her face looked very different when she was younger. If she had worn her hair differently back then. Not for the first time, he wishes he could’ve been there. It makes him almost jealous of Seungmin.

“And of course I said yes, so I became her navigator and have since sailed our ship over more miles than I can count. I watched her dedication to goodness from the very first day, when we picked up that old drunk in a dinghy that threw up all over the deck, and she wanted to clean it up, but we refused to let her and drew lots instead. I lost.”

Seungmin grimaces, and the captain does, too. A loud laugh runs through the audience.

“I could talk for hours about her. The obvious, like her fighting skills, her intelligence, her courage, her leadership. But also about her staring evil in the face and still choosing the good every time. And her ability to make split second decisions that determine life or death, and coming out on the side of life every time. And you know what? As cheesy as it sounds, I think that is her real power.”

Seungmin sweeps his arms to the side, looks over where Hyunjin, Seungmin, Changbin and Chan are watching him, then back to the captain.

“The captain is a giver of life. Every single one of us has come from dark places. Have lead lives we’re not proud of, or ones we’d rather not remember. We suffered and fought for our survival, and we thought that was all we were ever going to have. And most of us had accepted our lots, and we would’ve continued on, surviving, until we couldn’t. But the captain found us.

“And I truly, do not know how she does it. How she saw me, a lanky, cowardly, moody swabby and picked me to come with her, to give me the honour of being her navigator. And I’ve asked myself for years if it was because she saw something in me that I didn’t know was there but … I’ve since come to a different conclusion: It’s her who brought it out of me. Because I wanted to be worthy of the chance.”

Minho hears the captain scoff, but she’s smiling. She cups her hands over her mouth and shouts “untrue! You were always destined to be the best cartographer in the seven seas!”

Hyunjin, Chan and Changbin cheer loudly, the crowd laughs.

Seungmin sighs deeply, waves the captain off with a lighthearted scowl.

“See, ladies and gentlemen, she does it again. But it does remind me that I should get to the point.”

The chuckles ebb down and Seungmin look serious, throws another look to the group around Hyunjin at the bar, then looks at Minho, and then the captain.

“Our captain is more than just our captain. Yes, she leads us, every single day without fail. But even more importantly, she has given us what many of us thought we would never get to have again – another chance. Safety. Autonomy. Purpose. And most importantly.”

Seungmin takes a deep breath, gives the captain the smallest smile.

“She has given us a family. She is our family. And we know how hard she works, how much she swallows, hides, how much she sacrifices, in order for us not to think her any less strong – something we could never think of her, by the way – and nothing made this clearer than the last two weeks, when not even the death of two people she loved more than anything could keep her down for longer than a day. When she pushed through all her own pain to guide us through ours. She got up every single morning and kept fighting because she knew how much this victory meant to all of us …”

Seungmin breaks off, and Minho swears he can see tears glimmer in his eyes before he blinks them away. Minho hears the captain sniffle beside him, quiet enough for only him to hear. A single tear runs down her cheek.

“So …” Seungmin croaks out, clears his throat, “we did the same. We did what she has done for us all of these years, and we swallowed our pain so we could help her through hers. So we could help each other. Because it’s the least we could do to repay her.”

The captain huffs out a wet laugh next to Minho, tears streaming down her face. Something about it is so much more vulnerable than anything Minho had ever seen, it breaks his heart. Gently, he places a hand on her knee, rubs his thumb soothingly. She shakes her head at Seungmin, but Seungmin doesn’t budge.

“No, captain. Without you, none of us would be here. We would be dead or in jail or destitute or criminals. But you have given us something bigger to strive for. And we did it – we rid this world off its biggest leech!”

A cheer goes through the crowd.

“With the help of our former captain and his formidable crew that we used to call our own,” he says, with another deep bow in their direction that is answered by loud cheers, “with the help of our own fearless crew, and …”

Seungmin fixes Minho with fake glare.

“… the captain’s ever fearless second in command, who can be a massive ass but is unfortunately also one of the best people I’ve ever met and deserves our thanks for protecting us with everything he has for years …”

Minho’s heart knocks against his ribcage almost painfully. The captain’s fingers thread between his own softly, and squeeze. Right here, next to her, even the attention doesn’t feel so bad.

“… and Han Jisung, who is the living proof for anyone that your name is not your legacy, and has chosen us from day one. I hope you continue to be … well, whatever your role is on our ship …”

Another loud giggle through the crowd, interrupted by Jisung’s loud yell

“That’s kitchen assistant, fighter, and the captain’s concubine to you, Kim Seungmin!”

Seungmin grimaces, shoots him an exasperated glare, but he can’t hide the smile on his lips. The captain giggles, blushes, squeezes Minho’s hand harder.

“Well, then I hope you continue to be … all of that … a part of our crew, a part of our family.”

Then Seungmin turns back to the captain and raises his glass.

“But none of this would have been possible without you, captain. You have made an indelible mark on this world, today. Here’s to a long, happy life, without any more sacrifices. We could never respect you less. We are incredibly proud to be your crew,” Seungmin closes, a sense of grandiosity in his voice that makes everyone cheer louder, especially the members of their crew. He climbs off the table awkwardly.

The captain is on her feet before Minho can do so much as blink. She threads through the cheering crowd, and Minho follows her almost blindly, seemingly unable to escape her orbit now that he has been drawn into it. As soon as Seungmin is within her reach, the captain tackles him into a tight hug. It takes him a few seconds to compute the sudden presence of her, but then he wraps his arms around her, pulls her against him and squeezes his eyes shut until a tear does escape him.

“Seungminnie,” the captain mumbles, into Seungmin’s shoulders, without looking at him, so quietly Minho can barely hear her, “I– … in the top drawer of my desk. There’s a piece of paper. I wrote my will, just in case I wouldn’t make it. But it didn’t take me long at all. Because there was only one instruction: The ship should belong to Kim Seungmin. I have always known that.”

The sob that wrenches out of Seungmin’s chest is so guttural it makes Minho’s heart physically ache with it, and he watches as he cradles her closer, as Jeongin and Hyunjin and Changbin and Chan make their way over with more rum, crowd around the two until Seungmin finally pushes himself away from the captain and wipes at his eyes with a huff.

“If any of you make fun of me for this tomorrow, I will kill you,” he grumbles.

Hyunjin scoffs, shakes his head at Seungmin.

“Idiot, we would never make fun of you for saying out loud what we were all too cowardly to say,” he mumbles, hands Seungmin a drink. Seungmin takes it with a grumble, downs half of it in one big draught. Then Hyunjin turns to the captain with a radiant smile, hands her a glass, too, wipes at her tears and giggles and asks her if she’s alright.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minho watches as Jeongin quietly abandons his spot next to Chan, makes his way around everyone until he can squeeze in next to Seungmin, his chest pressed against Seungmin’s arm; Seungmin looks down at him with wide eyes, and Minho can hear his breath hitch when Jeongin gives him the gentlest smile, reaches up, cradles his face in his hands and tenderly wipes Seungmin’s tears away. It’s the smallest moment, but it feels so achingly private, Minho feels like he shouldn’t be watching. And it’s over as soon as it happened, though when Jeongin steps back, takes his place next to Seungmin, Minho thinks he can see Seungmin reach out and intertwine their hands between them. He hopes so. He hopes the two of them will finally let themselves be happy.

He turns from them, gives them their privacy, lets himself get swept up by Hyunjin, who’s passing out drinks, making toast after toast after toast, to the end of Han Yujun, to their victory, to their captain, to Minho and Jisung, who, along with Felix, has finally found his way back to them, coming ‘back to life’ as he says over and over again. Minho sips his drink slowly. He doesn’t want to drink tonight. Frankly, he doesn’t know if he can. The high of their victory, the gut-wrenching pain of everything it cost, the storm of confusion and love, so much, uncontrollable love – it already scares the living shit out of him. If he drinks now, who knows what he would do. And, really, what does he need a drink for when he has them, right in front of him, smiling and laughing, flushed and beautiful, looking at each other and touching each other subtly and sweetly and so intimately that it makes Minho’s entire body burn with need.

But he’s patient. Truly, he’s more patient than he thought he could be, makes small talk and lets everyone congratulate him. Lets Jisung and Felix dance some more. Lets the captain and Hyunjin talk and laugh at the corner of the bar. Lets the captain talk to the tall stranger, her captain, whose encouraging words and heavy hand on her shoulder make her blush and bow. But as the night wears on and the party gets louder and everyone around them gets drunker except for them, as everyone gets swept away into the crowd and leaves the three of them there – Minho sees it in her eyes. Glossy and big and beautiful and dark with desire, shivering when Jisung’s hand, lightly, but possessively laying against her nape, threads up and into her hair and scratches gently at her scalp.

They leave without telling anyone; sneak out the door to the tavern, take off running down the street when they hear someone call for them. Their laughter rings through the balmy night air that still holds the scent of a sunny day, the dust under their feet kicks up as they run and run and run, all the way through town, until their feet hit the sand of the beach and they, breathlessly, climb into one of the dinghies and row out.

It’s a dizzying contrast, the sudden quiet of the night, with only the water lapping against the sides of the boat, the oars hitting the waves.

Minho rows you out, leaving you and Jisung to sit opposite him. Your body feels light as air, like you’re floating above yourself somewhere, and you allow yourself to sink into Jisung’s arms, lean against his solid chest behind you. From where you are, you have a perfect view of Minho, his raven hair glimmering in the moonlight, the muscles in his shoulders straining against his shirt as he rows, the dark eyepatch obscuring one of his eyes. You can’t help but mourn it, deep down. His eyes, his beautiful, glimmering, loving eyes, are one of your favourite things about him. But when he looked at you earlier, you realised that it won’t be so different. All the love, the devotion, his soul; it’s still reflected there for you to see. It must’ve hurt, though, you think, and it may still hurt now, but he doesn’t let it show. It makes you wonder just how much pain he has swallowed over the years, how much he has been hiding behind the ever-present furrow of his eyebrows that you have long learned has nothing to do with his actual mood. Or so you thought. You decide you will figure this one out in time.

You lean back, further into Jisung’s warmth, into his pine and musk scent, the one you’ve been sleeping in through all the pain, the one you never thought you would smell again. The fact that he’s here is still unbelievable to you, a part of you terrified that you will blink and wake up, in Jisung’s cot with Felix glued to your back, and it was all a dream. Absentmindedly, you let your hands splay over Jisung’s thighs, run them up and down, drawing little patterns against the rough material until his breath hitches, trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, that it’s real.

You still are when Jisung’s hand finds your jaw, and he leans in, brushes his nose against yours before his eyes flutter shut and he kisses you. And you know that this can’t be a dream.

It’s the sweetest whisper of a kiss, a brush of his lips against yours, perfect reticence and tenderness, even when he presses closer, a little more insistent this time, and then again and again, until your mouth opens for him and Jisung dips down, licks a moan right off your tongue.

You hear Minho’s movement stall, hear the lewd, wet sound of Jisung’s spit slick lips sliding against yours, feel Jisung’s hands cradle you closer, his tongue dancing with yours until you’re dizzy with want.

You barely notice when the little dinghy comes to a halt, bumps into the side of your ship, until Jisung pulls back, and you’re hauled up and straight into Minho’s arms. The gaze in his one good eye is penetrating, yet so tender, and you swear you have never needed him, never wanted him as badly as you want him right now. His gaze flutters to your lips, and yours glue to his. You whisper a hoarse “please” but he shakes his head, turns you around, ushers you up the stairs.

Your fragile, beaten heart doesn’t even have the time to panic, to wonder if something had changed, whether kissing Jisung when Minho was right there was wrong, because as soon as Minho swings his legs over the railing, he finds you, sweeps you up into his arms and kisses you, short and sweet and filthy, before he carries you into the ship, Jisung trailing after you with a dopey smile on his lips.

He carries you through the thick wooden door, down the familiar corridor, the way he has done so many times before when the two of you finally managed to steal a moment away from everyone, and it makes tears pool in your eyes at the same time as a laugh bubbles out of your chest. You bury your face in his neck, card your hand through his hair, drag your lips over the skin of his neck until you crash through the door of your quarters.

It’s pitch dark, but he doesn’t need any light to find the way to your bedroom, to push open the door and gently place you down on the foot of your bed. His hands find your face, and you only realise that you’re still crying when the thumbs he smoothes over your cheekbones come away wet.

Jisung stumbles over to you, toes off his boots hurriedly and crawls onto the bed until he’s behind you. He cards his careful, gentle hands through your hair.

“Hey,” Minho whispers. His voice is shaky with worry. “Y/N, baby, are you okay?”

But you can’t respond, the weight of the world sitting so heavy on your chest you think you might collapse under it, the absence of the kraken like a physical ache.

You shake your head. More tears drip down your face, your mouth screwed shut, desperately trying to keep the sobs in, but it just hurts so much.

“Shh … it’s okay, my love. Lean back against Sungie for me, okay? I’ll just light some candles,” Minho hums, softly, and makes to step away, but your hand shoots out in a reaction of senseless panic. Minho doesn’t force himself away. He comes back easily, gently, cradles your face back in his hands.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he whispers, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Just one second.”

Somehow, you manage to nod, let go of his hand, even when your heart is being torn apart because he’s here, he’s really here, taking care of you again. It makes the emptiness, the exhaustion, the pain of the last two weeks stand in such brutal relief that the sob tears out of your chest so hard it jolts Jisung into action.

He half turns you, pulls you into his lap, cradles you so close you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek and you cry. And he holds you.

Pine and musk and sweat and rum. Big, warm hands. A soft voice humming your name, whispering sweet nothings as Minho moves around the room, lights the candles in the sconces until the room is bathed in warm, golden candlelight, and you realise you haven’t seen it like this since the day you lost them.

And then Minho is back. Ever so gently, he pulls your shoes off your feet, manoeuvres you until he can tug your dirty, bloodied jacket off you. Carelessly, he throws it into the corner somewhere and comes to kneel in front of you and Jisung, who’s still holding you closely to his chest, rocking you back and forth soothingly. Minho reaches out, smoothes your messy hair back from your forehead. His touches so tender and careful more tears collect in your eyes, so many you can’t blink them away, and they run down your cheeks, collect in Jisung’s sleeve. You stare at Minho and you see your pain reflected in the devastated expression on his face.

“You’re here …” you whisper, your voice so brittle you barely recognise it, “taking care of me and everything … I thought you would never be able to … I thought I lost you. Both of you. I thought I was alone.”

You sob again, try to hide your face in Jisung’s chest, who cradles you closer. His chest convulses and you realise he’s crying, too.

“Ooooh no no no no, not you, too” Minho whines, scoots closer until he can wrap his arms around both of you. Jisung chuckles quietly behind you, then sniffles. He hugs you closer, rubs his hand up and down your arm. Minho’s fingers are still soothingly running over your hair.

“Everything’s okay,” he murmurs, quietly, lets his forehead rest against Jisung’s head in a gesture so surprisingly vulnerable it hits you square in the chest how much everything has changed. But you’re not scared. Not any more.

Jisung nuzzles into Minho’s touch, turns his head, places a soft kiss into his hair, then ducks down to do the same to you.

“I love you two, you know,” he mumbles, and you look up at him. He looks so nervous it makes your heart ache. “Like, I know I kinda made a joke out of it earlier, but … I really do. And it feels weird to say it now when, for the longest time, I really, really hated myself for it because I thought something was seriously wrong with me. Falling in love with the captain of the pirates who picked me up. Falling in love with a guy who hated my guts. The whole crew on my ass because they thought I wanted to break you up.”

He scoffs, sniffles again and looks down at you.

“Like, how was I going to tell them that I fell in love with you both?! It’s fucking delusional.”

Minho huffs out a laugh next to him, nudges Jisung’s cheek with his nose.

“No sense of self-preservation, I told you,” he grumbles, and it makes you laugh for real. Your tears finally stop coming and there’s something like hope blooming in your chest as you settle into this, the three of you, just … existing together. It feels right.

Jisung pouts at Minho, then at you.

“Captain, he’s being mean to me again,” he whines, and you chuckle, pull yourself up until you can turn around in his lap, straddling him instead, so you can look at him, stare into his big beautiful eyes.

You thread your hands into his hair loosely, rub at his cheeks until the pout falls from his lips and he can’t help the smile.

“Minho’s like that,” you muse, pointedly ignoring Minho’s glare, “but can I tell you a secret? Underneath that gruff exterior, there’s a heart bigger than anyone’s I’ve ever met.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Minho blink, staring at you. Jisung looks up at you with a wide grin.

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod, smile down at Jisung, wipe a few stray tears from your eyes with the back of your hand before you lean in, press a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips that he reciprocates happily.

“Mhmm,” you hum. Your heart feels like it’s ready to burst. “He’s really strong and fiercely protective of the people he loves. But he also has so much love to give. But he doesn’t realise how much everyone loves him, back.”

Minho’s hand winds around the back of your head, and he pivots your face to him. His gaze is laced with desperation, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen.

“You can’t just … you can’t just say that …” he mumbles, eyes flickering all over your face, “and not when you’re not even looking at me.”

You smile again. There’s a sense of peace in you now. Purpose. Your voice is soft when you speak again.

“He loves so entirely, so wholeheartedly it’s terrifying, because it makes you wonder what you ever did to deserve it. And …” you breathe in shakily, “because you don’t know what you’ll do if that love is ever taken from you. Because you need him like you need air to breathe, because without him there’s no warmth. Because nothing could ever compare to how it feels to be loved by him.”

Minho blinks, and three crystalline tears slip down his cheeks. He looks like he’s in pain, and you briefly wonder if you did something wrong, but then he breathes out your name and crashes his lips into yours and your whole body erupts into sparkles of electricity.

Because you’re loved by him again, and you need him like you need air to breathe. Because he’s warm. Because nothing could ever compare to this. To how it feels to be loved by him.

To be slowly, methodically, sweetly undressed by his and Jisung’s hot, calloused hands, Minho’s lips barely leaving yours for more than a second, until you’re panting and breathless, and he kisses his way down your body and makes you whimper his name into the quiet of the empty ship, your nails digging into Jisung’s arms until he moans.

He makes you cum like that, on his tongue, so hard you see stars, moons, entire galaxies, your body jellied in Jisung’s safe arms, where you remain, slotted back to front, against Jisung’s chest, when Minho lies down, on his side, in front of you, lifts your leg and slides home. Jisung’s hot lips on your shoulder, sucking and biting, rutting his cock against your ass and breathing moans into your ear until you’re half crazed with it, then Minho’s lips on yours again, then Minho’s lips on his, Minho’s hand reaching behind you to tug Jisung closer, until his cock brushes against where Minho’s drags in and out of you again and again until Jisung is whimpering into Minho’s lips. You don’t know which of them slides a hand between you, presses Jisung’s cock up until the head of it pushes in next to Minho, but it makes the three of you moan out in unison, the sensation so overwhelming, so hot and tight and intimate, so mind-numbingly, dizzyingly beautiful and like everything you never knew you wanted.

And Jisung presses in further, until they’re both buried in you, Minho fucking in and out of you feverishly, desperately, so deeply, alongside Jisung’s thick, hot cock, rubbing against him so hard it makes Jisung babble stupidly into your ear about how much he loves you, how perfect you are.

And you know it’s love that you’re feeling. The feeling the shivers through your veins, fills your chest, expanding and expanding until every single inch of the emptiness that the kraken used to inhabit is filled with nothing but love. Nothing but them.

Your vision whites out briefly when the tight heat in your abdomen explodes and pleasure zaps through your veins as you cum, and you sob out their names. Jisung moves to pull out, but you manage to reach behind you, to paw at his ass until he’s fucking back into you as far as he can go, and he releases with a devastating moan of your name, making the slide of it hot and filthy and loud. Jisung presses closer, drags Minho closer, too, and it makes Minho’s hips stutter until he whispers your name, ruts himself in three more times, as deep as he can go, and spills inside of you, his face buried in your neck, his nails raking down Jisung’s back behind you.

You stay that way for a long time, holding each other, until the last of the candles Minho lit burns down.

In the silence, Minho brushes his lips against yours. He takes a deep, shaky breath.

“I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you,” he whispers, so quietly you think you may be dreaming, “how could I not. You’re everything. I’ve loved you selflessly, and then I loved you selfishly. I was so selfish when I kissed you that one summer night, when it was just us and the stars and everyone else on land, and you were so beautiful, and I thought maybe, just maybe, you could be mine. And I thought you loved me, too, but I saw your fear and I … it was okay, it was enough. I was content to be whatever you needed me to be, as long as you needed me. It was enough.”

He takes a shuddery intake of breath. You can tell he’s not done yet, so you wait. You barely dare to breathe.

“When I thought they were going to kill me, my first thought was that they couldn’t because then you would be alone. I would crawl my way out of my own grave just to get back to you. You’re my everything. You’ve been my everything for a very long time. Every fucking second of every day I think about you, about how to keep you safe, how to make you happy. That’s all I ever want you to be. Safe and happy. And I couldn’t leave, not without you knowing how much I love you. Not without me knowing that you are safe and happy. And I’m selfish, because I want to be the one to make you happy, I want to be the one to keep you safe. So you see why I couldn’t leave you. I love you. You’re everything to me. The sea may rise, and the sky may fall, and they can try to take me away from you, but I will always come back to you, and I will always love you.”

< chapter X - interlude (& epilogue coming friday, may 24 at 3pm CET) >

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xiubaek13ficrecs · 4 months

Text

🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter X

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: and despite it all, there's still a fight to lead

word count: 8.8k

warnings: mentions of main character death but not actual main character death! as I mentioned in the series warnings; vague allusions to suicidal ideation and thoughts of sacrificing oneself; grief; panic; depression; violence and blood

author's note: i am so sorry, it had to hurt! but everything will be okay, within this chapter already. only this and one more regular chapter before the epilogue. are you ready to see han yujun's demise? i know i am. mwah mwah ily all

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

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< interlude - chapter XI (coming friday, may 17, 3pm CET) >

This is what it is. Pain, salt, blood. Wood, cotton, metal. Sleep, awake, dreams of death. One gunshot that keeps echoing in your ears. Over. And over. And over. Again.

You sit down on the steps leading to the forecastle deck at the front of the ship. Your aching, brittle body hits the solid planks of worn wood, and you can feel every single one of them underneath you. You look around. It’s still the same as when you sat in this exact spot on your first night on it, albeit with a few more bullet holes chipped into the railing, knife marks in the masts. It feels nice to be able to tell the story of most of them yourself.

The world is silent, except for the waves. There never are many sounds this far out at sea, where you are now. Taking the long way around Eleuthera Island. Not passing too close to Dunmore Town, not taking any more chances. Seungmin had suggested it. You had agreed. Two more days didn’t make a difference. Han Yujun would die at the end of this journey.

There are no birds this far out, of course, because there’s no land for them to rest. The only sound, the wind, ripping at the sails. Knocking a wooden peg against the mast over and over again. And waves. Water lapping at the ship. Jeongin isn’t singing. He hasn’t been in the mood much.

The wind cuts like it only does on cloudless nights. You shiver. Feel that your body is alive, despite it all.

It’s the first time you’ve been alone in days.

You sleep in Jisung’s cot with Felix every night. It’s where they carried you, after you collapsed. Not that you remember. Everything after the gunshot is darkness. Felix had filled in the blanks the day after, after you woke up. Sunlight on your face, the smell of Jisung, and a warm, skinny body wrapped around your back. A moment of silence. Then, pain. Unimaginable pain.

After the gunshot, you had collapsed. Screaming, sobbing, completely out of your mind. They’d decided you weren’t stable enough to be on your own, so they carried you into Felix’s cabin, deposited you into Jisung’s abandoned cot. Felix couldn’t take it. He told Changbin to heat up some stew for everyone for dinner, climbed into bed with you and wrapped his arms around you. He stayed there all night. Held you through the heaving, desperate sobs, drying your tears, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings into your deaf ears.

The next day, you forced yourself up. You nearly fell. Felix caught you before you could smash your skull open on the dresser. He had yelled for Changbin, who had stumbled in from next door half dressed, half crazed with panic, expelling the deepest sigh you ever heard when he saw that you were okay. Felix asked him to fetch you some breakfast and some coffee, didn’t allow you to take a single step out of the cabin until you ate. And you did. As much as you could, which wasn’t much, but you did. Then you got up. Reassured Felix that you were fine. Put on your bravest face while the inside of your chest felt like an empty grave. You made it to your cabin. One of Minho’s shirts was thrown over the back of your chair. You broke down. This time it was Seungmin who found you. He didn’t say a word, wrapped you up in a blanket, took you upstairs, deposited you right behind him on the quarterdeck, where he could keep an eye on you, and went back to the wheel. And that’s where you sat. Quiet. Hurting so much, you didn’t know where else to go, what else to do. You don’t remember what you thought about that first day, if you thought about anything at all. But you know you didn’t move until the sun started setting.

Until Seungmin softly said your name, crouched down in front of you, smoothed a gentle hand over your hair. Asked you if he should get Felix.

You nodded. Felix came, whisked you off downstairs, back into his cabin. The smell of Jisung made your body ache, but you couldn’t go back into your cabin. There was nowhere else to go. And here, you had Felix, who fed you soup, spoonful by spoonful as he chattered. You could see the dark circles around his eyes, the bloodshot white of them telling the story he didn’t want to tell. It made it all so much worse.

You stayed that night, and the night after that, and the night after that. And he never turned you away, only smiled at you and opened his arms. Sometimes you would cry, sometimes he would. Sometimes either of you would wake up sobbing in the middle of the night and the other held them. Sometimes you just talked. And sometimes you were both exhausted, and you would simply wind your arms around each other, let yourself be comforted by each other’s warmth and fall asleep.

It became a ritual. The two of you, in Jisung’s bed, against the world.

The second day dawned, and you swallowed it all down and got up again. This time, Felix didn’t even resist. He called for Changbin. It was the first day of the routine that would remain the same every single day. You weren’t a fool, you knew they were doing it for you. You didn’t fight it. In the morning, Changbin woke you and Felix up with a gentle knock, a soft call of your names. He accompanied you to your quarters. (On that second day, when you saw that Minho’s shirt was gone, you froze right there, in the doorway. You had asked, quietly, brokenly, if Changbin knew if they kept Minho’s stuff. The relief was guttural when he said they did. He asked you if you wanted them to get rid of it. You shook your head. Mumbled out a quiet ’never’.) You let Changbin deposit you on the edge of your bed while he drew you a bath. While you washed yourself, he remained outside, telling you the latest developments through the door.

Then he would say his goodbyes, and Hyunjin would stroll in, just at that moment, bringing you breakfast. He sat with you, ate with you, chatted about everything under the sun, until he had to go and Seungmin picked you up, took you upstairs to sit with him while he steered you around the countless sandbanks and islands. You spend your day there, staring at the horizon, quietly gathering your strength in Seungmin’s comfortable, silent companionship, your mind simultaneously whirring and eerily quiet as the whipping sea wind made you at least feel half alive. After the first day, everyone knew they’d find you there if they needed something. Gaon was helping Hyunjin with the next ration plan and wanted an okay for a budget for new bedding? San had a question about armament for when you reached Andros? They found you there. Approached you only after Seungmin gave them a terse smile.

Chan had dinner with you every night. His presence was nice. Calm. Solid. He chatted to you about things going on on the ship, told stories in his sweet voice, good and bad, about his parents, his childhood, his life as a prizefighter before you gave him another option. Then, after dinner, Jeongin would usually knock on the door and take you up to the top where you would both lie on your backs and stare at the stars. Sometimes he would sing as he kept a look-out. You would talk, but more often than not you were quiet. But when you did talk, you often tried to make him laugh. It was one of your favourite sounds in the world, even when it was streaked with sadness right now.

When the moon reached its zenith, Jeongin would help you down the sails, down to where Felix would already waiting, eyes heavy with sleep and, nonetheless, a beautiful smile on his lips. Always hopeful.

And the next day it would repeat itself.

With all of it, you can’t believe it’s only been days since … . They feel like months, these days, as they travel through your body. It hasn’t been long enough to forget. You remember it all too vividly. Warm hands. Golden skin. Raven hair. Cutting eyes. Skin against skin against skin. A heart shaped smile and a giddy little bunny toothed giggle. It hurts so much that you wish you could forget. That time would pass faster, that you could finally breathe again without missing them, missing them, missing them. But you can’t. It doesn’t stop hurting. It hurts so much that you can’t blame Changbin for refusing to leave you alone, even when you bathe. It hurts so much that sometimes you stumble when you get up the few steps it takes to get up to the quarterdeck, and Seungmin has to catch you, has to support you up.

Because you no longer believe Jisung is alive. The way Han Yujun’s captain had spoken, it was clear that he was either dead already, by Trott’s filthy hands, or his uncle would kill him as soon as he set foot into his house again. The realisation had found you deep in the night, Felix’s deep breaths puffing against your neck. It wasn’t sudden, the fact of it just … settled into your bones as you watched the moon through the porthole. The pain spread through your veins so slowly, you could feel every inch of it, until you could feel nothing else. Until your whole body was throbbing, inside out, with the loss of him. You had started trembling again, earth-shattering sobs waking a disoriented, panicked Felix, who had pulled you close, shushed you, asked you if you were okay, if anything hurt. But you couldn’t speak. You wailed their names into Felix’s chest until you fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Where the pain is, there’s also emptiness. A gust of wind sears through the thin material of your coat, the stars twinkle in the big vast nothing above you. It mirrors the big vast nothing inside of you, where it’s suddenly, for the first time – silent.

The kraken is gone. You have no idea where it went. Maybe it finally escaped, broke out of your ribcage with your screams, slithered out of your guts with the bile that you expelled over the side of the ship when your world went black. Maybe Chan had pulled it out of your throat when you were screaming and thrown it overboard. You don’t know. All you know is there’s a quiet inside of you now. It’s painful, like the feeling of an empty stomach when it starts to hurt.

The kraken is gone, and you’re utterly alone with the words you never said. You remember your dad’s lucky necklace. Wonder what they did with it when they found your stepfather’s dead body.

You blink up at the stars again. You wonder if it’s even colder up there. If what’s left of you would just blend into the darkness, or if you could find a purpose there, too. Maybe, if you looked hard enough, you could find Minho again. It makes you want to try.

You try not to think like that, you really don’t. You can’t. Because there’s work to do. Your crew, men who signed onto your legacy because they believed in you, all of them with you on this journey to avenge them. To make them proud, to keep true to your promise. This was bigger than you.

Distantly, you hear the door to below deck open, Felix’ voice, tentatively calling for you. So soft, so gentle, so pitiful. You can’t believe that tone is for you. You never wanted it to be like this. You’re disappointed in yourself.

When he finds you, spots you from the other side of the deck, a relief floods his features that makes something akin to anger rush through you. Felix. Having to worry for you.

“There you are,” he hums, and gently plops down beside you. He’s a calming presence, his skinny little body always running hot, a perpetual smile on his pretty lips, no matter how badly he’s hurting, soft blonde hair somehow always smelling like sun warmed fruit and toasted spices.

“Wanna go to bed?” He asks. More sugar-laced pity.

“I won’t break, you know,” you say, your voice not harsh, but cold. But Felix doesn’t take it personally. Knows you too well for that. Knows grief too well. You don’t deserve him.

“I know,” he hums, leans back a little so he can look you in the eyes, makes sure you can see just how earnest he is, “to be honest, you’re handling this a lot better than anyone else would.”

He’s still smiling, but you can’t bring yourself to smile back. The grief has hollowed you out, so painfully that you can feel the cold biting into the shell of you. You wish you could forget. You just want to forget.

You shrug and Felix shuffles closer again, throws an arm around your shoulders. It feels like second nature now. Like Felix had always been attached to each other.

“You don’t always have to be so strong, you know?” he says softly, “none of us expect it of you.”

You shake your head, stare straight ahead.

“You may say that, but we all know that reality is different. If I fall apart, who will lead you? Everyone will lose their respect for me. I will leave you all floundering when we’re so close to the goal, just because of my … no. I can’t.”

You grimace, shoot him a pained smile, but you can’t look him in the eye.

“And don’t worry, I won’t come crawling to you every night forever. I will get over it and your life can go back to normal. I can sleep in my quarters tonight, if you want me to.”

Felix shakes you slightly, scoffs, stares at you like you’re being ridiculous.

“Don’t be silly,” he chides. “Have you considered that I need you there, too? Because I’m grieving, too?”

You swallow harshly. His pain, their pain. A brand new well of pain that you can’t even bear the thought of right now. Because it might be the one thing that makes you give up. You steel yourself. It hurts.

“It will get easier,” you force out, your voice colder than you want it to be because you don't believe it either. The pain feels eternal. But Felix once again just seems to understand. He sighs.

“You always talk like your feelings are a choice.”

Something noxious spreads through your body.

“They are. They have to be. How else am I going to survive this?”

A tear drips from the tip of your nose and you curse. You were doing so well, keeping your violent crying fits to when you were curled up with Felix in Jisung’s bed late at night. You can’t start falling apart out here. It’s a slippery slope to a point where you break down entirely, in front of all of them.

“Like Jisung taught us,” Felix says softly, “You love. Let us love you, let us take care of you. Let us return a fraction of what you’ve given us all by taking us under your wing, protecting us, fighting for us when nobody else did, all on blind faith. For leading us for all these years, for keeping us safe and fed and clothed and gifting us a family when most of us thought we would never have one again.”

His words are so genuine it makes nausea settle in your stomach. It’s too much. Too fucking much.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, you know that,” you mumble and Felix laces his hand with yours, squeezes.

“But what if we want to?”

It’s hard to feel, but something warm does bloom, deep in your chest, in the middle of all the cracks and rubble and blood. It almost hurts more than the emptiness.

“And promise me something, captain,” Felix adds, and you look up at him. He looks wise beyond his years in the moonlight. You wonder when that happened. Another thing you missed, failed to see in time.

“When we find them? Let yourself love them, too. Loudly and openly. We would never think less of you.”

You shake your head, your whole chest aching with emptiness emptiness emptiness.

Love. Felix just says it like that. You can’t, but you let yourself use the word now, in the most private corners of the newfound emptiness where the kraken and your heart used to be. You let yourself finally call it what you think you always knew it was. Calling it love only now that it has turned into past tense. You loved Minho. For years, probably ever since you met, since the first time your eyes met and your souls intertwined so tightly you could never be separated again. You loved him with every touch, every kiss, every smile behind closed doors. Oh, you loved him more than you’d loved anyone.

And you’d grown to love Jisung. He, who had waltzed into your life, so likely to be your enemy, but really unlike anyone you’d ever met before. Pretty, pretty face and determined little scowl and soft hot skin, protective and genuine and honest and so, so tender. Like a missing piece, slotting into you, giving you more love than you ever thought you deserved, looking at every corner of you and finding something to love there, too. And loving not with fear, but with a devastating heart-shaped smile, like it was easy. He made you believe that maybe it could be.

But then death found you again, after years of quiet watchfulness, and took them both from you. So cruel, to give them to you to touch, to hold, just to rip them out of your arms before you could even have enough time. You wonder if you did something wrong. If you missed a sign somewhere. If it was trying to teach you something. But no matter how many times you turn it all over in your head, you can’t seem to figure out where you went wrong.

There was blood on your hands again. The people you loved were all dead. And there was nobody to blame but yourself. For failing over and over and over again.

“They love you, too, you know. God, I hope you know,” Felix continues, scoffs like he’s just made a private little joke. “Minho has loved you since the day he met you. He’s devoted to you, mind, body, and soul. And Jisung?! Jisung has risked everything, has fought us all just for a chance to be with you. He reveres you. The way he looks at you, you should see it, when you walk in the door it’s like the sun has risen, and he’s staring straight at it …”

A sob racks through your body, your whole body like an open wound. You dig your nails into your arm so hard you may be drawing blood. But the physical pain does nothing to dull the grief.

“Stop, Felix! Please … don’t,” you sob. “I- I can’t … they’re gone. Don’t … I know what I’ve lost. Don’t make it worse, please, I know … I know …”

“We don’t know if they’re gone–” Felix starts, but you wail, shake your head so vehemently it makes you dizzy. You pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around you like it will stop making you feel like you’re about to fall apart. But there’s nothing that can help. Felix rubs his hand up and down your arm soothingly.

“I can’t do hope, Felix,” you sob, let your head fall onto your knees, “I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting for them to come back.”

“Would you wait for the rest of your life?”

You sob again. You feel like you’re slowly breaking into pieces. The shiver is back.

“For them? Yeah.”

Felix pulls you in, then, into his solid chest, and you let him. He cups your head with one of his soft hands. You cling onto him. A cold gust of wind sweeps over the ship. He pulls you closer, grabs one of your hands in his.

“Let’s go to bed, your hands are freezing.”

The 9 more days it takes you to reach Andros Island fly past you in a blur of pain, emptiness, and your newfound routine. You no longer try to snatch moments alone. It’s like Felix’ words broke something inside of you, unleashing a self-hatred, a disappointment so sharp and unbearable, for everything you could’ve had, everything you never knew you had, that you’re scared to be alone. Scared what you would do if you were.

You don’t know if anyone notices, but you no longer look behind you. Even when someone approaches you from your back, you don’t turn. You walk around them, or wait until they approach you from the front. Keep your back to the wall. You can’t turn, when you know he won’t be there.

Every day you remind yourself of two things.

One: You’ve been alone before. In a way, you always have been. This is no different. You repeat it until you start to believe it.

Two: You have to stick around, if only until it’s done. Because you have a mission. More important than anything else. You will make sure Han Yujun will suffer, for all he did, to the world, to the people, to so many of your men. But now? You will make him beg for the mercy of death for what he took from you.

It’s hard, when, as your body numbs to the pain, you start to see something else in awful clarity. Their pain.

Felix cries, too. With you, yes, but sometimes you wake up in the night, and he’s quietly, privately sobbing into your back. Like he doesn’t want you to hear. Hyunjin’s pretty eyes lack lustre. None of his smiles reach them any more. His hair hangs limply, no longer freshly styled and cared for. He hasn’t sewed anything in two weeks, either, his pile of scrap fabric untouched in the corner of the living area. Chan and Changbin’s smiles come much less easily, their shoulders are always tense. They seem almost jumpy, especially when there’s any unexpected noise or someone yells. Seungmin doesn’t seem to have changed much, on the outside, but you can feel it. His silence is different now. When he speaks, it’s slower, quieter. When he looks at you, it’s like he doesn’t just worry for you, but like the weight of the world sits on his shoulders. And Jeongin – Jeongin almost never sings now. Only late at night, when he thinks everyone is asleep. Sometimes you can hear him when you lie awake in Felix’s cabin. They’re all sad songs. Gut-wrenchingly devastating melodies, lyrics of loss and pain. They break your heart. You never bring it up.

The knowledge that you failed them torments you day and night. That this is your doing. You failed Jisung, you failed Minho, you failed your crew. They counted on you to keep them all safe, to protect them from those who hurt them. To protect them from more pain and loss, of which they all had too much, as you well know. It’s what you always wanted, to give them hope again, a home again. But you failed. Yes, they may still be fine, but their beloved friends are gone. You failed to protect those they loved. They didn’t deserve to lose more people they loved. Especially not because you weren’t smart enough to see it coming, to anticipate that Han Yujun would be a step ahead of you. Twice. It’s unforgivable.

The need to make it right is what drives you forward, what forces you to detangle your legs from Felix’s every morning, drag your leaden body away from the only comfort you know. It’s what dries the tears in your eyes, makes your heart deaden in your chest as your soul becomes more and more murderous. In the absence of them, there is only violence.

Because you can’t lose again. You won’t. You won’t be too slow. You won’t be dulled to their machinations. Because you have to see it coming this time. Or it will cost you everything.

This time, you will do what you should’ve done in Trott’s house. You should’ve given yourself before you ever lost one of them. This time you won’t hesitate. It’s set down on a piece of paper, in the top drawer of your desk. Just a few words. Making your ship over to the one person you know would keep her safe.

This is what you hold on to, until the last day dawns and Andros Island lies clear and green on the horizon. Today will be Han Yujun’s last, if by your sword or someone else’s. Even if it costs you your life.

Felix looks at you differently that morning, Hyunjin falters when he steps into your office. You don’t want to think about why, if it’s the sick sort of determination in your eyes or if they’re scared you’ll fuck up again. You wish you could tell them that you won’t, that today, you will not hesitate, that you’ve prepared for this. But you don’t. If they knew, they would try to stop you. And you can’t risk that.

When the Andros Town harbour comes into view, you have built a wall around your heart so high you no longer have space for doubt. Only acceptance. It’s almost peaceful. Hopeful, in a way, even though you don’t believe in that kind of thing, usually. But the possibility is enough.

The wind is in your hair, the sails flap in the wind. Seungmin yells some last-minute orders to the men manning the sails, Hyunjin arms everyone to their teeth where they wait above deck. The air is buzzing with a nervous sort of anticipation that settles into your bones.

Everything is fine until your eyes fall on another ship, moored closely to the shore.

No … it can’t be …

You stumble backwards. Seungmin’s eyes find you immediately, his body half turned around, a hand already stretched out to you while his eyes still scan over your body to see if you’re hurt, then the horizon, trying to figure out what has upset you so much. But he couldn’t know, could he?

“Anchor next to that ship up there,” you tell him, and to his credit, he only hesitates for the barest moment before he complies.

And the closer you get, the more undeniable it is. It’s his ship. The Captain’s. Your captain, the man who had saved your life, who taught you everything you knew, who had faith in you when you didn’t know yourself. You don’t know what’s scarier – the thought of meeting him again after all this time, or the thought of his ship, but with someone else manning it.

And then there’s the obvious question: what is he doing here? What business could he possibly have on Andros Island, the most avid of the anti-privateer islands. Could he be after Han Yujun as well? Or worse, could he be on his side?

Your mind is spinning so fast it’s making nausea bloom in your guts. That’s what’s left now, after the kraken has disappeared. A gaping emptiness that makes you feel seasick. Ironic.

You swallow it down, will the dizziness away, focus on steeling your voice as you order your crew to pile into the dinghies and row to land. Ignore even Felix’s imploring look as you wait for them all to head out. Chan refuses to sit anywhere but by your side as Changbin rows you out as the last boat, ‘in order to better be able to protect you’ as he said.

It’s silent in the little boat as he rows, the oars slapping against the calm surf, the sun beating down on you on a day that’s as cloudless as it could be. You can’t tell if that is meant to be a good omen, or if death is laughing at you again, preparing to take you in its cold embrace while you stare up into a brilliant sky, and, if you’re lucky, the loving faces of your crew.

“There are other pirates on shore,” Chan murmurs, rips you out of your thoughts. “I’ve never seen them before. Do you think they’re the ones from that ship we anchored next to?”

You nod, try not to let your eyes linger on the shore for too long, foolishly trying to avert the moment of truth for a little longer. You pinch yourself forcefully for being so childish, but it’s what loss has done to you. Leaving you a brittle shell of yourself on the most important day of your life. Pathetic.

“Do you know if they’re friendly?” Chan asks, hesitantly, carefully.

You realise he wants more, but there’s only so much certainty you can give him.

“If they are who I think they are, then there’s a good chance they will be.”

Changbin gives you a funny look, before turning to Chan, clearly silently communicating between themselves. Before all this, you may have called them out on it. Today, you need to preserve all your strength.

Before long, your dinghy hits sand and Changbin gets out, drags it until you can get out of it with dry feet, offering you his arm as he helps you down. The rest of your crew is gathered on the beach, talking quietly among themselves, throwing nervous glances this way and that. Because none of them know, not even you, if Han Yujun is expecting you, or how he will attack. If he will allow you to come find him or if he will bring the fight to you. But so far, it’s quiet.

A little ways down the quay, the strange pirates sit. They’re loud, relaxed, chatting and laughing raucously, taking long draughts from their flasks. It’s in stark contrast to your crew, high-strung and wary. The strange pirates are sharpening their weapons – at least now you know they’re here for a fight, too. You just hope to God it won’t be against you.

You push through your own crew, make down the beach towards them, two sets of footsteps, Chan and Changbin by the sounds of it, immediately breaking off the group to follow you.

As you approach, familiar faces start to stand out – still the same, only a little older. Some of them get up as you approach, their eyes widening in recognition. They look friendly, excited almost, but you don’t allow yourself to let that give you any hope. They turn somewhere in their crowd, and then, as you’re nearly there, almost close enough to speak, their group parts.

A familiar tall man, dressed in all black with a matching big black hat, turns around, and you fall to your knee without even thinking, your body reacting before your brain can think better of it.

Chan and Changbin freeze behind you, Hyunjin makes an undignified noise, then there are more footsteps hurrying along the beach behind you.

You hear him laugh, low and baritone, as he walks up to you. He places a big, calloused hand on your shoulder, and you shake like a leaf.

“Now, now,” he hums, “that’s hardly necessary any more, is it captain Y/N?”

Your head spins, your body feels like it’s not your own, but somehow, you manage to rise to your feet, meet the Captain’s eyes.

As soon as you do, it’s like all the years never happened. He still looks the same, though a little bit older. The wrinkles around his eyes are more pronounced, his nose is bigger, silver streaks running through his unruly black locks. There’s a new scar over his eyebrow.

“Captain,” you manage to say somehow, your voice still a little shaky.

He smiles at you.

“It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve asked for you,” you blurt out, breathless, “every port I landed, I asked for you, wanted to make sure you and the crew were still out there, still fine. But we never crossed paths.”

He shrugs. He’s still smiling, widely and warmly and affectionately, and it simultaneously gives you pause and makes your heart ache with it. He never used to smile this much – at least not at his crew. At you, sometimes, if you did especially well, but even then, it was a rare treat. He was a serious man, with the weight of all the years and losses on his shoulders. But now, he seems …lighter.

“Ah,” he says, “it seems it wasn’t meant to be yet then.”

He says it so easily, as if you didn’t hope, for years and years, that you could see him again, get closure, get … anything. And now you’re here. Without them. You huff out a laugh, but it’s dry and painful. Tears start prickling at your eyes, unbidden.

The Captain pauses, his face pulling into a concerned frown. He places a gentle hand on your arm and leads you down the beach, towards the line of trees bordering the town. Suddenly, he stops, looks over your shoulder in surprise.

“Sorry, sir,” you hear Hyunjin’s voice, shaky but determined, “but we promised someone we would protect her if he wasn’t here to do it.” Pain, pain, pain, empty, hollow, sharp.

The captain seems to think for a second, then nods and leads you further until you’re finally out of earshot of the two crews, dozens of pirates probably oh so curious about what you were breaking down over now. You dig your nails into your palms until you’re sure you’re drawing blood. You wish everything would stop spiralling out of control.

“How have you been?” the Captain asks, and you scoff out a painful laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chan and Hyunjin.

They’re standing a little ways away, their eyes trained on you. They look ready to sprint into action.

“I’ve killed everyone I’ve ever loved,” you mumble.

The Captain stares at you for a long moment. Watches as you swallow drily, avert your eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

You can’t look at him when it pours out of you.

“There’s something wrong with me, captain. Everyone I get close to, everyone I …love,” you choke out the words, “they all die. My father, my mother, now …”

Your throat constricts, an echo of the kraken, a painful convulsion in the emptiness. You gasp in a breath of air.

“The one who would protect you, the one they’re here for,” the Captain interrupts you, with a nod towards Hyunjin and Chan, “is that who you lost?”

You nod.

“Him and … I lost both of them. I … killed them.”

You look at the Captain and to your surprise, he smiles, sadly, but softly.

“Silly girl,” he hums, “people die all the time. The whimsy of the fates is not something you have power over. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

You stare at him. The words filter into you, travel through you, make something inside of you tip off balance. You’re too stunned to speak. He places a comforting, solid hand on your shoulder, squeezes. God, he would’ve never done this back then. He was harsh and cold, always said he wasn’t your friend, he was your captain. The crew had always had to rely on each other to patch each other up after a fight, to sort out fights, to help someone through nightmares. It was one of the reasons why you decided to never be like that, why you always wanted to be close to your crew. Or maybe, a mean part of yourself supplies, you just didn’t want to be alone.

“Don’t take responsibility for things that aren’t your fault,” the Captain continues, “life, and especially this one, it claims its victims at random. There’s no pattern, no celestial plot to torment you. You will find love again, probably have an abundance of it, if the way your crew is looking at you is anything to judge by.”

He looks over at Chan and Hyunjin. When you don’t react, he places his other hand on your other shoulder, gives you a soft little shake. It’s sweet, you think. Fatherly. You would’ve killed for this back then.

“You did well for yourself. Your reputation precedes you, everywhere they speak of you, of the hard fight you choose to fight every day, and how you do it fearlessly and with everything you have.”

He laughs suddenly, loud and rough, and the sound is entirely unfamiliar to you.

“Just the other week I got a drink on the house when the barkeep heard I knew you,” he laughs out, squeezes your shoulders one more time before he straightens up, smiles down at you. “So don’t worry, you’ve done well.”

You shake your head in disbelief, a soft laugh escaping past your lips. You wonder if it’s the first one since.

“I always wanted to say thank you,” you mumble before the rest of your courage leaves you. “For saving me, back then, for taking a chance on the random girl that showed up with blood all over her face. For not taking advantage of me and teaching me everything and giving me my ship–”

“Don’t. You deserved it,” he interrupts you, waves you off like you didn’t need to say anything more.

You scoff.

“I didn’t do anything back then, how could I have deserved it?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, another enigmatic smile on his chapped lips.

“When you walked up, all that determination, that strength in your eyes, the blood smeared over your brow, I knew that if I didn’t take you on, someone else would. And they would take advantage of that determination and use it for evil. Call it instinct, but something told me you could do a lot of good. And now look at you.”

You blink at him, his words a brutal reminder of the reality waiting for you when you return to your crew. Briefly, you wonder if he will have to watch you die today.

“That’s what we’re here for today, actually,” you say slowly, cautiously. You try to straighten up, find some of the decorum fitting your status, instead of crumbling like you’re still 18.

You decide to take the chance, to tell the Captain straight out, to take a gamble on what you know about him, what you’re seeing in his eyes, what you know about Han Yujun and his hatred for all privateers and their hatred for him, and if that fails, in your history – and hope it won’t be the third bad decision you make that will cost a life.

“Well, to be precise, we’re here for Han Yujun,” you start. You keep your eyes on the Captain’s, watching for any micro-expression that could possibly tip you off. “You know what he has done, to this island, the people, the whole region. He’s a leech, a corrupt murdered. And we finally got a lead. Evidence to take him down, once and for all. That evidence was stolen, along with …” your voice breaks and curse yourself for still being unable to say it, but you push through, keep talking like nothing happened, “so we’re back to a more primitive plan: go in there, take care of him the old-fashioned way, find new evidence and get his administration and his coconspirators to hang.”

The Captain takes a moment to contemplate your words, then he nods.

“We’re here for Han Yujun, too,” he finally says, and you hold your breath.

“I’m not nearly as good a person as you are, Y/N. We’re here because he hired us to ship something,” the Captain admits and he looks almost sheepish. “But then had us attacked on the way there. His hired guns were pathetic, no match for us, but they still managed to blow a hole into our ship. So we’re here to demand our payment – and get revenge.”

The breath you expel feels like relief, like hope. You have a chance now. You have a chance. With the captain’s crew and yours combined, you have a force of around 70 pirates. Han Yujun’s house guard, even on a good day, shouldn’t measure more than 30, most of them young and inexperienced, no match for your experienced fighters.

You stick out your hand.

“Well, then, Captain, may I suggest a deal? We fight him together. I get his head and enough evidence to topple that corrupt government of his. You can have as much money, as many jewels, anything you want from his house, as much as you can carry, and the satisfaction of a revenge well exacted.”

The Captain’s lips pull into a smirk, something like pride in his eyes when he takes your hand in his and shakes it.

“Deal, captain Y/N,” he says, throws a glance towards the beach where your crews are still lingering. Then he steps back, gestures for you to move. “You lead the way.”

Chan and Hyunjin are already watching you when you turn around and meet their eyes. You can read the question in their big, hopeful, eyes, the way Chan runs his hand through his hair nervously. You give them a small nod and an even smaller hand gesture that tells them to keep it quiet, but Hyunjin can’t entirely fight off the triumphant smile that threatens to take over his face. But they step back, dutifully bow, stand by as you pass them and follow you back to where your two crews are waiting.

The crews are quiet, each amongst themselves, eyeing each other curiously, but not a single pirate reaching out to the other yet. You’re proud of your men, proud of their loyalty, that they waited for you to come back. A memory bubbles up. Minho, spread out in your sheets, chest bare, hair mussed, both his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes closed, a pleased, almost proud smile on his face. ‘Well, of course they’re loyal. They have the best captain in the seven seas. They’d be stupid not to be.’

“Men,” the Captain announces, and silence falls over both crews. You ache, but a salty breeze picks up, and you feel more alive than you have in days.

“Han Yujun will pay today. We will get our pay and what he owes us for trying to fuck us over.”

A cheer runs through his crew, rowdy and loud. He holds up a palm and they fall silent.

“Captain Y/N and her crew are here for him, too. They have their own fight with him, one that demands his head. And I think it’s safe to say it’s in the interest of all of us, as men, as pirates, as the outcasts of this wretched society, that he is finally dealt with. Captain Y/N will make sure he pays with his life. Let’s make sure we give her and her crew all the support she might need.”

“Three cheers for captain Y/N! Let the pig die!” A voice exclaims from amongst the ranks of the Captain’s crew. Kind eyes, wide nose, half long hair. A memory of his tireless patience, teaching you how to shoot on the outskirts of Nassau in the burning midday sun. Sungjin gives you a smile and a wink. The smile you give him back is almost real.

When you turn to your crew, the first eyes you meet are Felix’s. He refused to be left behind today, fighting proficiency be damned. He said it was because, if Han Yujun was going to die, he wanted to be there to see it with his own eyes. But you think he probably also couldn’t stand the idea of being all alone on the ship with no way of knowing if everyone would come back. You had made Changbin promise to protect him at all costs.

Felix’s expression is grave, determined. He nods, knots his hands together in front of his chest. This is good. I have a good feeling about this he seems to say. You’re inclined to agree, for once. He sticks a fist into the air.

“Down with Han Yujun!” he yells, at the top of his lungs.

Your crew cheers, so does the Captain’s. A small smile creeps onto your face.

At least if you die today, they will still be here.

And so begins the long traipse through town. It’s quite the spectacle: A gaggle of almost 70 rowdy pirates, stomping and singing, rattling their swords, battle cries and laughter, spearheaded by you and the captain, followed closely by Chan and Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix right behind you.

It becomes quite clear, quite quickly that the Captain’s men are louder than yours – and a great deal more bloodthirsty. It’s evident in every single one of their raucous yells. The townspeople that happen to be in your path scramble to get out of your way, hiding in shops and alleys, peering at you with wide eyes. It was oddly satisfying, and so liberating. No false restraint, no playing nice or coy or pretending like you aren’t on a warpath. Only rage, determination, momentum.

But once you finally leave the expensive part of town behind, pass from clean paved streets into the dusty, dirty roads of the poorer districts, the mood changes. Children come running, men and women stick their heads out of windows, doors, watch with fascination as you march through. Some of the Captain’s pirates yell to them, tell them that you’re heading to the governor’s place, that the governor will die today – and before long, there’s cheering, locals joining in with the raucous yells, some working men even joining your procession, with shoddy weapons of their own, more determination in their face than sense. But you don’t stop them.

An uprising against Han Yujun had been unthinkable for so long, his bloody reign over the island and stores of his power seemingly endless – but now, with a small army of angry people, thirsty for justice, there was a chance. And you wouldn’t want to take this chance at revenge from anyone.

And God, maybe you were empty, maybe it was hard to live, but this is what you’d been fighting for for years. You and … you and Minho. Together. If you know one thing, it’s that he would’ve wanted you to finish it. He would’ve wanted you to pull through, make him proud. The pain shudders through your body, but it’s warm this time. You will make him proud. You will avenge him and Jisung. It won’t bring them back, but it will bring you just a sliver of peace.

When you lift your head, Han Yujun’s house lies right in front of you, at the end of the street. At first glance, it looks a lot like Trott’s, though where that one was a cheerful yellow, this one’s a ghostly white, weathered with time and bleached by the sun. It’s also twice as big, the garden only sparsely planted, an ugly water fountain in the middle of the too short lawn. The columns on his house are marble, so are the tasteless statues, cheap copies of European art, no doubt, dotted around. Your stomach turns at the display of wealth when you know what he has been doing to the people.

You approach the gate and the Captain’s men press forward, shove against it until the chain breaks with a loud clank.

A guard appears from the right. He’s dumbstruck for a moment, staring at you, the huge, never-ending group of angry pirates and townspeople, and pales. He scrambles for a tiny gold whistle on his lapel, and he manages to blow one shrill signal before he’s tackled to the ground by one of the Captain’s men.

From the house, what you believe is the courtyard, ten men come running, their weapons drawn, looking behind themselves as they approach. They’re out of breath, one of them already has a deep gash in his arm.

“How …” you mumble out, perplexed. “How are we not the first? Who else is here?!”

The Captain next to you mirrors your confusion, orders his men to spread out, to search the grounds, so there aren’t any more surprises hiding in the expensive English azalea bushes while Chan and Changbin effortlessly step forward to take care of the men from the courtyard.

And that’s when you see it. Out of the corner of your eye.

Emerald green silk, fluttering from a window on the top floor.

Your heart threatens to give out.

It’s Jisung’s jacket, there’s no doubt about it. It’s tied around a broken window frame by its sleeves, fluttering in the stiff breeze, the shining threads shimmering in the sun.

You try to breathe through the sense of urgency, but it's like something’s tugging you forward, as you push past Chan and Changbin. Two more guards try to get into your way. You fight one of them, Hyunjin cuts down the other one effortlessly. The one you’re fighting catches you in the arm with his small knife, but you pay it no mind. More guards come, but your crew has your back. You ignore the blood, the bruising pain as you push forward, towards the house, the courtyard, past the ugly fountain and the azalea bushes.

You round the corner, push your cutlass into the guts of the last guard when you see him–

No jacket, only his white, ruched shirt with one whole sleeve missing, honey skin glistening, brown hair wild and flying as he fights three guards. He’s pouting and scowling, determined, as always, and you swallow down a sob.

Hyunjin rushes past you, and so does Chan, yelling Jisung’s name in relief as they strike at his attackers.

Jisung’s eyes widen, his lips pull into a beautiful, heartbreaking, entirely alive smile and then his eyes meet yours and you run.

The air rushes through your hair and then straight out of your lungs when you crash into Jisung. His arms flying around your waist, lifting you off your feet until your legs can wrap around his waist.

“Baby,” he whispers, eyes wide in surprise, before you lean in and kiss him.

Peaches and sweat and copper and the smell you’ve been sleeping in that’s been fading for the last two weeks but better.Real. Alive.

You breathe him in like it’s the last thing you’ll do on this earth, threading your hands into his soft hair, scratching at his nape until he hums. And he kisses you back, his hand running up your back, pressing you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth, and you want to crawl into his skin. There’s probably blood on your hands, on his, smearing over his neck and the back of your coat. But you don’t care. How could you, when he’s right here. You force yourself to pull back, just enough so you can speak.

“You’re alive …” you whisper, and he melts, his eyes softening, spit slick lips pulling into a smile that feels like the sun is rising.

“I am, baby,” he murmurs. The emptiness inside you throbs.

“Minho …” you breathe, your hands tightening on Jisung’s shoulders.

Realisation zaps over his feature, and he pulls you closer, so close to his body it feels like he’s holding you together, keeping you from falling apart.

“He is, too,” Jisung mumbles, cups your face when the first tear falls. “He’s here, too. We’re both okay, darling. They didn’t get us.”

Relief. Blinding, unbelievable, too good to be true. It’s so big, so all-consuming that it’s too terrifying. You can’t, don’t dare hope until he’s in front of you, not when something else could rip him away from you still.

Your next words force themselves out of your brittle, aching body before you can stop them. Because even if he isn’t, Jisung is right here. You need to tell him. You need him to know.

“I … I love you.”Jisung looks entirely speechless, then he smiles. Your soul sings. He chuckles breathlessly.

“I know, I love you, too.”

A door slams open on the other end of the courtyard and Jisung presses a swift but sweet kiss to your lips before he drops you to your feet. You land, ready. Jisung smirks at you, so maddeningly beautiful, handsome, irresistible the way his eyes glint.

“Now let’s kill my uncle.”

< interlude - chapter XI (coming friday, may 17, 3pm CET) >

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