#interactions — ⁞ ❝ i usually like a little more romancing. ❞

[teojira]

(Planet of the apes) Please can you give me anything about Caesar like head cannons a fanfic anything please I am just in the mood for Caesar :(

[Assortment of Caesar headcanons]

Summary: Just random headcanons for Caesar x reader <3

Warnings: Monster/Human romance, angst, can't think of anything else!

A/N: Caesar my BELOVED, I hope these are okay anon! You didn't specify if you wanted romantic or platonic so I'll do a mix of both that you can read as either or! I love my man sm

Caesar is an old man at this point, he's tired. This being said, he is not above pinning you down and resting his entire fucking body weight on you.

You can struggle all you want, you cannot lift him up and you just have to sit there and let him do what he wants. And what he wants is to have 5 minutes of quiet with his favorite human, okay? Let him have this.

Caesar also takes it upon himself to help groom you, parting your hair, scratching at your scalp and checking you for anything, taking your face in his hands and twisting and turning your head every which way.

Very very huge worrier, he worries for you so much and it comes out as anger. He's not mad at you for doing what he seems stupid shit, he's mad because he's scared of you getting hurt and he can't fix it.

He usually won't leave you alone without at least one ape he trusts in the beginning, he's worried about another ape like Koba emerging, so for his sake, please stick around with Maurice.

Maurice loves you by the way, and so does Nova. Since you're immune to the sickness, you're able to freely interact with her, so whenever you're not with Caesar or Cornelius, you're with them.

Caesar watches you alot when you're not looking, especially when you're laughing and smiling with the young girl. It fills his heart with warmth, even more so when you include other apes in on your jokes.

Give him hugs, he'll never admit just how touch starved he is, the only apes he has physical affection with often were Cornelia, Blue eyes and Koba. He won't admit it that he misses it, but he gets a little huffy if you go on to hug Rocket and not him.

You make him feel younger, almost like how he used to be when he was with Will. Yes, he's a leader and he will always predominantly be the collected and righteous leader, but he has his little shit tendencies that come out when he's around you.

I don't care what anyone says, Caesar is asshole at his core, he's just repressed it because he's a leader. He's the kind of person to have a bug in his hand, and gesture for you to open your palm.

"Open your hand."

"...I don't trust you."

"You do trust me, now open."

And then you have a centipede in your hand and you screech and he just smirks and huffs out a laugh.

I've said it before but he is so overprotective, you will not leave the confines of the colony if he can help it.

He knows you're a grown adult, and that you are capable of holding your own but he doesn't care. He much rather have you here when he can keep an eye out for you.

That being said, he will go with you if you're insistent, he has to teach Cornelius how to hunt and fish anyways, so you come with. It's a family day trip:)

Caesar doesn't like guns, but he gives you a pistol, it's a huge sign of trust due to losing his wife and son by them, by being shot by them, and you know he's trusting you with his life.

Speaking of trauma, he littered with it. Sleep doesn't come as easy to him anymore, he's too anxious, to the point you're scared he'll have a heart attack.

The only way you've found that he'll relax enough to sleep is when you and Cornelius are by his side, his arms wrapped around the both of you.

He finds it hard to tell you about Cornelia, especially since you're both teetering on the verge of something more, he feels like he's betraying her, but you reassure him you'll wait for him as long as he needs. Never overstepping any boundary he has.

He loves you, truly he does, he didn't think he could continue on, even with getting everyone to relative safety, but you've always been there, loving not only him, but everyone else around you. He doesn't know what he'd do without you.

#teddy asks ♧ #i love and miss him so much it hurts yall #planet of the apes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #caesar x reader #teddy loves apes ☆ #planet of the apes caesar

[foreverppl]

Moodboard for Amais Rena (he/they), lead singer of alt rock band Way Way Downers @infamous-if

Playlist

#catch them being like ‘what happened to the MUSIC???’ every time some reality tv show drama goes down lmfao #having them be a homewrecker by romancing mrs. valentine so we’ll see how that goes #but also after playing the demo i’ve fallen down the seven rabbit hole and i CANNOT get out omg #anyway personality facts ig: #they toe the line between confident and arrogant but ONLY when it comes the music #like he’d never call himself the best but they know that they’re a good singer and the band makes good music #so they don’t usually care to listen to criticisms that say otherwise #can be a little intense and takes things way too seriously somtimes #loves their bandmates to death so he was def put off a little by g in that one convo #is OBSESSED with doing the pop punk voice/accent much to the dismay of everyone around them. they think it’s the most hilarious thing ever #still feels really guilty abt what went down w seven so is just sorta… taking whatever they dish atp #okay at social interactions just veers more on the detatched polite side of things in interviews/w fans and other ppl they don’t know #which is veryy different from how they are on stage. #on stage they fully embody the music and let themselves do whatever feels right. no inhibitions. a complete release. #lover of tight pants and nice cuban heeled boots #is pretty responsible but has issues being told what to do prob stemming from the whole absent parent thing (srry orion) #can play piano but only the basics. only learned to help with the songwriting process. #if underground wastebasket has a million haters amais is one of them. if underground wastebasket has one hater they are that one. #if underground wastebasket has no haters that means amais is dead. #my mcs #if: infamous #mc: amais rena (infamous) #mb

[frozenambiguity]

«The day Diluc is not such a bore is the day I rejoice».

#{{ kaeya vc: i love him but the guy is always stealing all my fun }} #{{ kaeya vc: whether that be in the form of taking away my drinks or having opinions on my flirtations or the way I act }} #{{ kaeya vc: if he started to enjoy life's pleasures more and relaxed he would understand that I'm the one that is in the right here... }} #{{ kaeya vc: Diluc is TOO OPINIONATED and needs to let loose. as a treat. he will like it }} #{{ me: kaeya diluc letting loose is not... a good idea usually **sideglances diluc and his little 4 year adventure around teyvat** }} #{{ anyway. Thinking about trivial interactions between Kaeya and Diluc makes me happy. Let them go drinking together }} #{{ aka diluc having the worst hangover and kaeya just POINTING and LAUGHING at him }} #{{ LET THEM TALK ABOUT SILLY LITTLE THINGS LIKE ROMANCE AND GIRLS OR GUYS OR WHATEVER }} #{{ In the universe where Diluc likes Jean Kaeya just fcking.... stares at him for 79 years like WHEN WILL YOU MAKE A MOVE OH MY GOD. }} #{{ literally has to play the devilish cupid for something to happen because jesus christ. }} #{{ trivial/mundane ragbros. is nice. let them have the freedom of being normal young men for once. thanks for coming to my tedtalk }} #【 ic | fool you once; fool you twice. 】

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

This is going to be part of a Baby Fever Angst series with the other drivers. So, multiple drivers are going to have an smau like this.

Max’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

I do have Part 2s planned if people want them but also happy to leave it like this :)

#baby fever angst #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo headcanon #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smau #daniel ricciardo x reader

[repressfeelings]

tag drop!

visage — ⁞ ❝ maybe if i try long and hard maybe i can fool myself. ❞ musings — ⁞ ❝ i can repress feelings all day. ❞ headcanon — ⁞ ❝ you can’t fix me. i’m unbreakable. ❞ playlist — ⁞ ❝ your business is my business when i have to listen to it. ❞ likes — ⁞ ❝ it’s called whiskey. ❞ wants — ⁞ ❝ i don’t flirt i just say what i want. ❞ open starter — ⁞ ❝ i’m rude to everybody. ❞ wishlist — ⁞ ❝ what doesn’t kill us makes us stranger. ❞ self-promo — ⁞ ❝ my greatest weakness? occasionally i give a damn. ❞ meme — ⁞  ❝ you know why i live alone? ❞ answered meme — ⁞  ❝ people distract me. ❞ closed starter — ⁞ ❝ aren’t relationships great? ❞ interactions — ⁞ ❝ i usually like a little more romancing. ❞ psa — ⁞  ❝ crap ass luck. ❞ OOC — ⁞ ❝ if you want to yell or hug it out i’m here. ❞ promo — ⁞ ❝ i choose you everyday. ❞ timeline — ⁞ undetermined. timeline — ⁞ season one. timeline — ⁞ defenders. timeline — ⁞ season two. timeline — ⁞ season three. timeline — ⁞ after the blip.

#visage — ⁞ ❝ maybe if i try long and hard maybe i can fool myself. ❞ #musings — ⁞ ❝ i can repress feelings all day. ❞ #headcanon — ⁞ ❝ you can’t fix me. i’m unbreakable. ❞ #playlist — ⁞ ❝ your business is my business when i have to listen to it. ❞ #likes — ⁞ ❝ it’s called whiskey. ❞ #wants — ⁞ ❝ i don’t flirt i just say what i want. ❞ #open starter — ⁞ ❝ i’m rude to everybody. ❞ #wishlist — ⁞ ❝ what doesn’t kill us makes us stranger. ❞ #self-promo — ⁞ ❝ my greatest weakness? occasionally i give a damn. ❞ #meme — ⁞ ❝ you know why i live alone? ❞ #answered meme — ⁞ ❝ people distract me. ❞ #closed starter — ⁞ ❝ aren’t relationships great? ❞ #interactions — ⁞ ❝ i usually like a little more romancing. ❞ #psa — ⁞ ❝ crap ass luck. ❞ #OOC — ⁞ ❝ if you want to yell or hug it out i’m here. ❞ #promo — ⁞ ❝ i choose you everyday. ❞ #timeline — ⁞ undetermined. #timeline — ⁞ season one. #timeline — ⁞ defenders. #timeline — ⁞ season two. #timeline — ⁞ season three. #timeline — ⁞ after the blip.

[moonchild1]

park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

#kiki's recs #moon's recs #kiki!fic!rec #jimin #park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #bts fanfction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin series #jimin oneshot #jimin:fluff #jimin:smut #jimin:angst #jimin:oneshot #jimin:series #favourites!pjm #jimin drabble #jimin bts #jimin fic #bts jimin #jimin fic recs

[naomi-nana]

bofurin and romance tropes . wind breaker

just as the title says, bofurin and romance tropes.

featuring : umemiya, sakura, kaji

cw : fluff, gn!reader, probably ooc

a/n : since there isn't many wind breaker fics right now, i'm gonna make one since im obsessed with the characters! if this goes well, maybe i'll make a second part:D

UMEMIYA HAJIME . friends to lovers !

the two of you first met in café pothos, when you were helping out kotoha since it was pretty busy that day. he was the one that noticed you first and came up to you with a huge smile on his face. he didn't say anything and only stared at you for a while, which makes you think that the leader of bofurin is a freak. but you talked to him anyway.

and that leads you to being friends with him somehow. and because of that, he won't stop bothering you whenever he got the chance to. "name, look! my plants are looking so beautiful under the moon today, hahaha!" he showed them off proudly at you. you only nod your head with a smile on your face. "that's great. but, why are you taking me to furin at night? surely this isn't because you want to have a bbq party with me."

"do you want to?!"

"just tell me what you want, ume."

he chuckled and looks over at you with sincere eyes that makes you feel weirded out. not because you're disgusted by him, but because he usually looks at you that way whenever he has something serious to say. "say, are you alone right now?" you tilt your head to the side at his question. "what do you mean? i'm with you right now."

"haha, sorry. i should've been more specific. i mean, are you single?"

SAKURA HARUKA . clueless and flustered !

"stop doing that!" sakura glares at you while his whole face glows bright red. suou and nirei only watches from the side as the interaction between you and him goes on. "doing what? i'm not doing anything!" you put the bandage on his injury. the three of them had just gotten back from a fight in the town. and apparently, sakura jumped way too early into the fight and got injured because of that. which is why you're trying to put bandages on his arms right now. keyword, trying.

"could you please stop moving?" you grab his wrist with your hand to make him stop running away from you, but it only makes it worse. he's now screaming like a crazy guy. "hey! get them away from me!" he stares at suou who only smiles at him.

"i-i think we should help him before he passed out from the amount of affection name is giving him." nirei whispers to suou, which earns a hum from him. "hmm, you're right. but this is way too amusing to watch. i say we wait a few more minutes."

KAJI REN . talkative and quiet !

kaji is known for being a person who's easily angry. well, he might look calm, but the second someone or something pisses him off, he's really scary. which is why people often run away from him. not the people in furin though, including you, who came from a different high school. of course people think you're weird, acting all smiley besides him while he's 'ignoring' you and listening to his music.

but, in reality, he actually hears whatever you're currently saying. "kaji, did you hear? apparently that new coffee shop is closing because they didn't sell well!" you crossed your arms together as you looked at kaji with a dissappointed face. "how sad, i really liked how their coffee taste!" kaji only nod at what you said, and didn't say anything back.

you noticed that he didn't say anything and decided to just shut your mouth, since you think that you're bothering him a little and you don't want him to get mad at you. but then, he suddenly stops walking. "what's wrong, kaji?" you noticed he stopped at the coffee shop you were talking about. he took off his headphone and opened his mouth to speak,

"do you..want to buy coffee?"

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

#nao.writes #wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii) #wind breaker x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #sakura haruka x reader #kaji ren x reader #umemiya hajime #sakura haruka #kaji ren #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x yn #wind breaker fanfics

[starillusion13]

Yes, Noona?

Request: "Hyuck as bf with a noona!! but he's dom in bed and a sunshine in front of others hahaha"

Pairing: bf!Haechan x f!reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, romance

W.C: 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit themes, DOM!Hyuck, sub!reader, Noona gf and younger bf, nipple play, kissing, crying, begging(not literally), Hyuck being sarcastic as usual and Mark as third wheel lol.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Enjoy a little fic on my Hyuck.

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE CUE! 🔞

His Noona.

You have been always referred as his noona. He has always been a nerdy and bright student all his life and you are always standing proudly beside him with a bright smile on your face for his success. Well whatever he achieves, his first intention is to go to a bakery shop to buy a cake and then your favorite flowers and hurriedly make a run to your apartment to give you the news and celebrate.

You have adored him, well also admired him a lot since then. His bestfriend or his only hyung, Mark Lee who was your classmate made it possible to you to meet him first time. one day when you were hanging out with in Mark's house. Haechan also came who bought some snacks and when he entered the door, his eyes locked with yours.

First he was so awkward and smiling at you timidly but the moment you smiled, as if something inside him shifted.

"You are so pretty, Noona." He sat beside you and leaned back into the sofa. When you felt his presence beside you and his compliment made you smile, you turned towards him, his eyes were already on you.

"Aw...Hyuck, thank you. I'm glad to get such a compliment from my little one."

He smirked at you and you already know that something stupid was going to spit out his mouth. Before he could speak a single word, you pushed a slice of pizza into his mouth.

He grumbled at your action while chewing it and you laughed at him loudly.

The thing you didn't notice was that his lustrous eyes with a little smile in the corner of his lips were staring at you.

He is a bright sunlight in the trio of you, him and Mark. The younger one is sometimes so cocky and sarcastic that he won't let anything to get slide without making a stupid remark.

You have babied him a lot. You always look after him like he was your little brother and when you gradually became his bestfriend. You both were like inseparable ones. You also got to know about his clingy side. Him whining for your attention all the times and then when you push him away jokingly, he would give you a hurt look.

Sometimes you are really surprised with his sudden change in mood.

"Don't tell me you are sulking because I didn't take you to the cafe." You raised your brows at him from across the room.

As soon as he nodded, your eyes went wide.

"Mark was busy yesterday and when I thought to go to your place, you were not there."

"You know my place?"

"Yeah. I have once followed Mark." He stayed proudly, leaving you in disbelief.

"Don't say anything more. You are creeping me out."

He laughed when you cupped your cheek and turned towards the laptop.

Even if he is making up the fact that he got to know your address being a stalker behind Mark. He is actually more than that. To your oblivion he has been all around you for a while. He knows everything about you, things which you yourself is unaware of.

As the days went on, you both grew closer together and Mark got to get a hold of the tensions between you both. He is always being aware of Haechan's feelings towards older girls and he was quite shock when you two get along with each other and started being best friends.

He didn't know about you and seeing you were so friendly with younger guy surprised him but when one day you both confessed to each other and of course keeping the older one as third wheeling in between. He was sure that both of your life was going to take a turn.

Even though Haechan is younger but you can still feel his possessiveness and dominance over you. You didn't mind the sudden change of his moods and you used to shrug it off as a way of ignoring but this sparked an intense energy in him.

"You didn't tell me that you are going to attend the party. I could have come along with you. Or are you just keeping something secret?"

You frowned at the thought, "what secret? And it's just a reunion party with my friends. What to tell you about it, nothing."

"Y/n." After you both have started dating, he calls you by your name but still he uses the word Noona very often but hearing your name in this sudden tone made you gulp. "Is Renjun coming to the party?"

And you know why. You nodded slowly when he suddenly smirked and cockily walked away.

His actions and other activities were still similar from his teenage days and let's add his possessive tendencies over his girlfriend and that's you.

If he is laughing with his friends group, of course he is the mood maker of the group and the one to annoy everyone with his sassy little comments. But a single remark about you will snap him out. He won't show it in front, maybe he will.

One day he grabbed Renjun's collar when he addressed that you could be his girlfriend instead and it would have been better. He snickered when he saw the reaction on Haechan's face.

Apart from the bubbly Haechan, the sunshine. There's something else to notice about him that is his other side, Hyuck.

Just the opposite to his appearance in public.

Even though he looks like a lovely guy when hanging out with you or spending time with you in the living room. You can't really match the two persons —- Haechan in public and Hyuck behind the closed doors of bedroom.

"Haechan—"

"It's Hyuck...noona." He chuckled when he hovered on top of you. Your throat already being rough with earlier activities and hearing him calling you Noona made you clench around nothing.

He was enjoying the sight of you being so impatient and your hooded eyes staring at him, literally begging at him.

"Aw...Noona...won't you scold me?" He flicked a nipple making you moan and squirm under his hold. You shook your head as your hands were already tied to the headboard.

"Use your words." He leaned forwards and whispered in your ears, "Noona..." he breathed out the word, goosebumps spread over your body and you whined for him.

His breaths hitting against your heated and over sensitive skin and getting bruised by his attacks with hickeys and kisses.

You previously like earlier days in the relationship were a lot nervous about him in sexual activities. Even if you are the older one but you can't take control over him because you are so shy about having the intimacy with him. But, don't worry because the menace was waiting for this exact opportunity to get hold of and finally he got it when he got to know that his only Noona who is daring to everything is nothing but a shy and sub to him.

"Hyuck...please I can't." Tears slid down from side of your eyes and he kissed the tearline before putting his attention on the breasts. Your body arch into his warm and torturous mouth but filling you up with the pleasures.

"Have patience, Noona...don't wanna get punished, right?" He snuggled his face down into your chest.

You shook your head roughly and soon you felt him teasing your entrance but he quickly pushed down your hip still to the bed and laughed at your whines.

You cried with the unbearable pleasure and his laughter filled the room.

"Please..." you mumbled something after it but his rough kiss muffled the words into his mouth. The intense yet a sweet kiss filled with passion, love and longing made you yearning for more when he broke it apart, saliva lining both your lips.

When you will be distracted, he would take it as the chance to finally enter you and push himself inside of yours into every corner, stretching every inch of your skin until you are begging and crying for him to stop.

It makes you wonder sometimes how he is the younger one and you the older one.

"No more Haechan please...please..."

"Yes, Noona?"

He will act as if he can't hear you but oops he is not having any intention to stop when he got the taste of you and feeling so good when you are tightly wrapped around him.

And he will repeatedly call you 'Noona' to make you come for the nth time that night.

>>>> <<<<

I hope you liked it.

>>>> <<<<

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #nct #nct x reader #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct haechan #haechan x reader #haechan smut #haechan fluff #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #nct 127 hard hours #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 au #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #haechan imagines

[secondhandsorrows]

Some Vital Scenes to Include in a Romantic Subplot, pt. 1

I’ve been in the plotting stages of a novel I’ve been working on for some time now. It’s not a romance novel, per se, but the romantic aspect is very prevalent… dare I say important. Anyway, so as I was working on my scenes and character arcs, I began to realize that I didn’t have enough fleshed-out about romantic arc, nor deepened the protagonist’s love interest or their connection, for that matter. This led me to devise up some scenes that I felt were crucial to the story if I wanted to keep this romantic angle to it, and now that I’ve most of them arranged, I find now that I’m way more excited about my characters’ love story. 

These tips will be unnumbered because, obviously, the sequence of these events and how they will fall into your storyline will probably be different. Also, you don’t have to use only one scene for every suggestion that will be mentioned, as you can have multiple scenes of flirtations or deep conversations, for example. They usually blend all together into the narrative at this point. Just remember that there should be some relevance to the plot at hand in some of these scenes as to not derail completely from the main narrative or other conflicts.

I was going to post this all at once, but decided it was too long and wanted to split it into two parts to go more in-depth and for easy reading. /-\ Enjoy ~

- The meet-cute, or the meet-ugly:

Ah, yes, the first encounter. Or, as we sometimes like to call it: the meet-cute, or the meet-ugly if you’re feeling a little unconventional or perhaps mischievous. Though we may enjoy setting up our star-crossed characters in a whole range of moments from awkward to swoon-worthy, the initial meeting is what’s important (if your characters haven't already met before the beginning of the story, ofc, but this is useful to have in mind). Let us quickly define the two:

Meet-Cute: A charming and serendipitous first encounter between the characters in question that sets a positive, memorable, and oftentimes romantic tone.

Meet-Ugly: An unconventional, awkward, or disastrous initial meeting that adds a unique twist to the start of the romantic connection, often leading to unexpected chemistry and an added intrigue on whether or not they’ll get together.

You don’t have to nail your characters’ first encounter into a label or bubble such as these two examples, but I like bringing these up for a general idea. 

- Bouts of flirting and/or banter:

Just as the title suggests, these are scenes containing the flirtaious communication between the two characters. These kinds of interactions will, of course, develop over time and deepen the bond or relationship. Playful interactions, gazes, and witty exchanges between the characters can create a lighthearted and flirtatious atmosphere that hints at their growing attraction.

The way they might flirt or tease can reveal their personalities. For example, one character might be more sarcastic, while the other responds with quick wit, or quiet bashfulness. There’s an element of subtlety, as flirting lets the characters express their romantic interest without explicitly stating it (unless one of your characters lacks subtlety in general and prefers to shout their undying love from the rooftops, which would make for an interesting dynamic, but I’m only spit-balling). 

Banter, teasing, and romantic tension underscoring heated debates or loathsome gazes suit just as nicely, especially if you’re writing with enemies-to-lovers or rivalry tropes in mind. But be careful! A little goes a long way: too much all at once can repel any growth for the characters or narrative.

- Initial conflict or struggle:

Depending on your story’s big-picture conflict, the introduction of challenges or obstacles can create tension between the characters, adding depth to their relationship and making their eventual connection all the more satisfying. This might include cultural or class differences, opposing goals or values, history of past heartbreak, personality weaknesses such as stubbornness, or external pressures that threaten to keep the characters apart. Even a nosy family or a disapproving mother can be considered. How the characters navigate and resolve these conflicts contributes significantly to the overall emotional impact of the romance subplot, as well as allowing for some exploration of each character's strengths, weaknesses, and resilience. 

- Shared vulnerability:

This kind of scene involves the characters opening up to each other about their innermost fears, insecurities, past trauma, or personal struggles. Shared vulnerability goes beyond surface-level interactions. It involves characters revealing their authentic selves, exposing their emotional vulnerabilities, and allowing the other person to see them in an honest — and sometimes new — light.

This is a symbolic gesture of commitment we’re talking about, here… something that requires trust. As characters share their fears or past traumas, they are entrusting the other person with sensitive information, fostering a sense of trust and emotional intimacy. It might be scary, it could be out from left field, but they will end up learning something new about themselves, their situation, or about the other person, and thus deepen their connection, little by little.

#writing advice #creative writing #fiction #writing #writing tips #character #on writing #story tips #story conflict #writing process #writer stuff #writer #writeblr #writing help #how to write #writing resources #writing tips and tricks #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #subplot #romance #writing romance #writing characters

[highvern]

Heart of the Sea

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: angst, romance, adventure, pirate!au, royalty!au

Content Warnings: weapons, graphic depictions of violence, blood, mentions of drowning, prostitution, depictions of parental abuse, torture, drugging, alcohol, death, eventual smut, unhealthy relationship dynamics/toxicity, they're pirates and not the peter pan silly goofy kind.

reader warnings: reader has breasts, long hair but i try not to describe more than length, she/her pronouns, and referred to as "princess"

Length: ~22k

Note: ITS FINALLY HERE!! longest fic I've ever written. my pride and joy. this is a dark fic and i tried to make the warnings as clear as possible. the romance is a slow burn. please do not interact if you may be triggered! take care of yourself first!

extra warning: MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! You will be hard blocked!

read more here

Old Friends

Salt water on the stale air caresses your senses awake, rousing you from your deep slumber as the gentle rocking of the tide tempts you to return to its depths. In the belly of the ship, only the gentle flame of an oil lantern hanging from the ceiling illuminates the dark closet you call your room. Just wide enough that your palms lay flat against each wall when your arms are extended, deep enough to hang a hammock for restless dozes through the night. 

Something is wrong.

A ship full of thieves, criminals, and other degenerates never quiets to an eerie silence such as this. The lap of the ocean at the wooden sides of the vessel drowns most noise but she seldom comes away with a clean sweep like she does currently. 

Something is very very wrong.

Twisting out of the hammock, your feet hit the floor with a slash. The black oily surface of water reflects in the dim light, consuming the entirety of your boots, soaking up to the middle of your shins. A quick survey of your space shows your only possession, a small leather trunk, bobbing in the corner.

The real prizes decorate your figure. Daggers tucked in their sheaths, littering their usual hiding places: one tucked under each cuff of your shirt, the largest one strapped to your thigh, one in the lining of each boot, and several strapped to the leather belt across your chest. Your revolver sits on your hip, golden neck polished, loaded like you left it before dozing off.

The door to this room is one of the few that sits less than an inch off the ground. Meaning the water in here is likely nothing compared to what's beyond the thick piece of wood. You need to get out of here. Out of this room and out to the deck. 

Steadying yourself, you plant your feet in a fighting stance, preparing for the force that will race in once the door opens. Barely a turn of the knob, a click of the latch and the door is blown wide; smacking into the wall behind as the sea rushes in, informing you that the water beyond is up to your thigh as it threatens to knock you off your feet.

The worn wood of the threshold threatens to rip your nails as you hold on for dear life. If you fall into the flood, it's over. You won’t be able to get back up, crushed under the weight of the ocean’s will. It's the first thing you learn on a ship: the sea takes and takes and she doesn’t return what she’s claimed no matter how much you plead. And if you do get away, she’ll come to collect eventually.

Arms straining and thighs burning, you force forward against the onslaught. By the time you exit the confines of your room , the water is at your chest. Caressing your collar bones, lapping at your neck like a crude noose. The jostle of your movement claps waves into your face. 

I’ve got you now. The sea whispers. Finally ran out of borrowed time, little bird.

Salt water burns your nose with each bob of your head as you work towards the stairs leading up and out. The tang floods your mouth, pooling in the back of your throat; choking you, silencing your scream for help.

Give up. The seductive voice purrs in your ear. Come to me. Let me give you oblivion.

When the ocean finds home in your lungs, you let her take what she’s owed. 

A knife to the throat is a less than friendly way to greet your second but Wonwoo should have expected it. His mistake for standing too close to wake his captain.

Wild eyes stare up at him, cataloging his features as the cool metal point pinches his airway. Sharp eyes, firm mouth, scar from temple to chin. He doesn’t flinch as you press a little firmer, forcing the dagger into the pale skin of his neck. Finally, safe triggers in your head.

Still, it takes a few seconds before your muscles relax enough to let you retract the small piece of steel.

“You’re needed on the deck.”

A shuddered breath is all the response he gets before you wave him out.

Wonwoo refuses to move, pointed gaze burning yours.

“Handle it.” You bark.

“Told me not to make deals in your name.”

That peaks your interest.

“Who is it?”

“Stragglers from a sinking ship.” He reports. “Seokmin pulled them from the wreckage.”

“Of course he did.” 

If Wonwoo was a stupider man he’d mistake the exasperation in your tone for fondness. But he’s not. If Seokmin was less valuable then his ass would have been at the bottom of the sea months ago. But the strikes against him are stacking higher and higher, and your goodwill is running out.

Today, you’re in one of your better moods. Seokmin will probably end up back in the wreckage with the sorry sailors he saved if none of them prove to be of any use. That is, if you let them take a breath after finding out just who exactly is standing above you.

“What colors?”

Their allegiance. The flag had been long gone by the time the three men were pulled from the chilly depths. But the brands on their necks tell it just the same. A circle with a vertical line through the middle.

“Krakens.”

You're out of your bed and up the stairs before Wonwoo can blink.

Face cold as the winter wind that screams from the north, you hone in on your target the second you're in the daylight. Seokmin doesn’t see it coming as you round on him. The brass knuckles swirling around your fingers rips a sizable gash across his cheek as the crack of your hand rings out, silencing your audience.

He falls to his knees as his own hands move to protect his face, a pained “Fuck!” leaving his lips. 

“You’re lucky I don't shoot you!” You spit, lips curled and teeth bared.

Garnet blood dripping from his chin to the wooden planks only furthers your disdain for the man in front of you. The gun on your hip sings like a siren but you have bigger problems to deal with. Seokmin won’t get the bullet with his name engraved on it today but tonight he should pray to whatever powers be that it finds another target first.

Whirling to the three strangers backed against the main mast, you eye them up and down. Wonwoo was right to wake you, because looking you in the eye with a shit eating grin is the demon you’ve been avoiding for years. The reason for your nightmares. The reason for the lump of hardened charcoal where a beating heart should be.

“Miss me?” he smirks.

In a flash, the revolver is in your hand. The shot hits dead center of the scant inches between his feet, smoke rising from the hole embedded in the surface of the deck. Whisps still rise from the muzzle of the gun as you cock the second bullet and raise your arm to aim for his heart. 

His cocky facade slips for a fraction of a second, but it pulls the infamous bloodthirsty smile to your lips.

“You’re a dead man, Jeonghan.”

The hesitant rap at the door rips your attention away from the creased parchment sprawled across your desk. Tallies of loots, debts, bribes, and more litter the ledger in tight neat script; providing nothing more than a swelling vein throbbing across your temple.

“Come in.” You beckon, eyes glued to your ledger.

Tracking his movements in your peripheral, Seokmin’s entire presence screams terror. He doesn’t dare look up when he cracks the door to your office open, barely enough for him to slip inside. Even the click of the latch is silent as he shuts it, releasing the twisted knob once it’s back home; attempting to make himself as small as possible, like a mouse trying to escape a snake’s nest. He knows it’s judgment day and he’s been found wanting. The weight of his sentence hangs around his heart where he just might find a bullet in the next few minutes.

“Sit.”

He isn’t a horrible crew member. Bad pirate? Absolutely. But he’s loyal as they come, works hard as anyone else with something to prove to the world. 

Seokmin was a farmer's son. One of several and the last in line to inherit any crumb of wealth his family could ever offer. At least that's what he told everyone. On the Hydra, a person’s story was their own. You didn’t care who they were before they inked their loyalty onto the base of their skull, just that no one would come for them with a debt to settle while aboard your ship.

The farm hardened his body but his heart was soft as wax under a flame. In spite of the obvious flaw, it’s why he’s the best at collecting information. Pure face and a familiar warmth, naivety rolling off him in waves. A few cheap secrets swimming out his mouth, misinformed beliefs regarding the way the world worked spoken a little too loud and viola! Some fool would step up to the plate to correct him, spilling their guts on the table just before Seokmin’s knife spilled them on the floor. 

Despite what he cost you in sanity, he’d been worth his weight in gold when it came to finding leads on loose lips. Sometimes even loose legs. The women at brothels adamantly refused to take the coin you padded his pocket with. Always sending him back hours later than expected with the familiar jingle of a full purse and an unmistakable swagger in his step. You swear the velvet pocket is sometimes heavier than when it left.

You deliberately drag your gaze up to Seokmin’s face, unhurried in pace, blinking lazily, almost sleepy. Jaw relaxed, and shoulders loose; your entire posture screams threat. Each of your crew needed a different captain when it came to reprimands. Soonyoung, eager to please and prove, suffered most with silent dismissals. Jihoon, the rare times he earned your ire, only responded to direct threats.

Seokmin’s master and executioner was guilt.

“Do you know how Wonwoo got his scar?” 

Schooling your face into a neutral expression, you wait for his response. Providing nothing, refusing to allow him comfort in this moment.

Seokmin doesn’t raise his gaze from his worn leather boots as he mumbles, “No.”

“It was my fault.” You share, picking your nails as the weight of your admission settles. “I thought I was helping a kid escape some cons. Told her she could follow us to town but after that, she was on her own. Turns out she was leading us into a deathtrap. One of her little gang took a swing at Wonwoo’s face and almost took his eye with him. Luckily, Wonwoo got him first.”

Apparently, this was one of the rare instances Seokmin had the sense to stay quiet.

“He’d thought it was a bad idea, but I tried to help her anyway. Didn’t listen to his advice that some things need to be left to the fates.”

Standing from your desk, you snag the bottle of whiskey resting on the cluttered bookshelf behind you. One of the few luxuries you afford yourself. Pouring two glasses, you slide one across your desk to the frightened man before continuing.

“I didn’t listen, and he got hurt.” Your tone so sharp it bites with blood stained teeth. “Wonwoo almost lost his eye, Min. Tell me, what kind of shooter would he be with one eye?”

“Not a very useful one?”

“Just about as useful as a spy you’d be without your tongue.”

Seokmin’s pale face balks at the implication. Hands wringing in his lap, you think he might piss himself.

“I’m not in the business of charity so I say this once: pull another stunt like you did today, and I’ll have Shua make you wish I killed you this morning.” Sitting back into the ancient leather chair, you jut your chin hauntingly. “Understand?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Get out.”

The door clicks shut before your next breath.

Your head drops with a heavy thud against the wooden trim of your seat, eyes sliding shut. Holding the stretch of your lungs as you inhale, attempting to do the same to the stiff muscles corded around your shoulders as a squeak alerts you to a new presence.

“That went well.”

You don’t have the patience for Wonwoo's taunting tonight. 

Sprawling in the now abandoned chair, he leisurely sips at Seokmin’s untouched glass of amber liquor before speaking again..

“I didn't almost lose my eye.”

“I fail to see how that's of importance.”

“Too many rumors flying around means someone will eventually ask for the truth.”

“Do let me know when they approach you, I’d pay good money to watch you stutter your way through the story.”

In truth, Wonwoo’s trademark scar came as the result of too much lager and a very short pier. You both were still fresh as spring lambs to the cruel world beyond the high walls of the marble palace, but quickly figured that anything you could use to your advantage needed exhaustion. The rumors you’ve stirred up around the jagged silver mark spanning half his face granted him a reputation beyond the edges of the ship, carried further by those who managed to escape your wrath.

Legends across the seas of the Viper’s second painted a terrifying character. Wonwoo’s quiet nature and intimidating features served to fan the flames further. He was mean with a blade, even meaner with a gun. Only those with a deathwish knowingly went toe to toe with him. Those unfortunate enough to cross his mark were dead before they could even hear the cock of the pistol. 

When Wonwoo doesn’t answer, you continue. “If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Oh?”

“How many fights have you gotten in since I started telling people your scar was because you made a deal with a daemon?”

“Several.”

“Which is certainly less than otherwise.”

“Certainly.”

“And I don’t even get a thank you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” He grovels, cocking his head forward. 

“I’m not in the mood for your poor humor.”

“You seemed to be generous with Seokmin.”

Knocking back the remnants of your cup before pouring another drink, you respond. “When he fucks up and I let Shua cut him to a million pieces he’ll see generous as I am, I’m good on my threats.”

That’s why they called you the Viper. Lethal. Calculating. Even when things don’t appear to be in your favor, luck seems to find you as a friend. Everything could be a lesson or another method for you to strengthen your alliances.

Even Seokmin’s fatal mistake of pulling Jeonghan on board would serve a purpose.

“Speaking of threats. What are we doing with those Krakens?”

“Eager to take a swing?” You jest, ignoring the sheen clinging to his lips.

“I have no interest in hearing them screaming at all hours for the next week. Kill Jeonghan, dump the other two and let the sharks claim them.”

“But then Jeonghan won’t see how we greet old friends. The other two are insurance.”

There isn’t enough time in the universe for you to deal Jeonghan what you owe him. The hunger to see him suffer would have terrified you in a past life. Even the hit on Seokmin this morning came with a swallowed trickle of sympathy after your rage cooled to a smolder, but no room for regret on the sea. Strike first and strike hard. You’ll pay for it all in the end and guilt wouldn’t spare you. 

But what grows in you now isn’t concerned with what you’ll face on the other side of the light. The poison you’ve collected in your veins for years pleads for the chance to fruit in his blood and stop his cold heart.

“You think he cares that much?”

“He’s captain, they’re his crew.”

“So you’d squirm if Seokmin got under the knife?” 

“Ask me in a few days.”

Silence finds the space between you like a familiar companion. Wonwoo is the last piece of home you have. You’d grown up together, run away together. Found each other again and again, no matter how long you ended up separated. A friend like him was difficult to come by when everyone had a price. Wonwoo’s turned out to be too high to ever hang you out to dry, and you the same.

“Tell Jihoon I want us at port by midday tomorrow.”

A humorless breath leaves his nose, “Oh, he’ll be thrilled.”

“I don’t pay him to be happy, I pay him to get my ship where I want it to go.”

You’re snappier than usual. The fury you feed in front of the crew protects you from the whispers and speculations. You’d won the vote fair and square when your processor had been ousted, a man nothing more than a relic from the old days, lazy and more than willing to let others do his dirty work while he soaked in riches. You’d sewed patches of discontent after years spent aboard, earning favors and friends along the way, mastering every job to be done on the once dingy ship. 

Tentative friendships were easily gained, but respect? Respect was on the bidding block everyday. It wasn’t enough to stain your hands whenever needed; the price for respect was razored words and padded pockets. 

Unfortunately, Wonwoo earned his fair share of both.

“When we get to the pier, we’re dropping Chan.”

“What?” Now anger heats his tongue.

“He’s not making progress.”

“Guns take time.”

“I've got enough mediocre gunslingers, I don’t need another.” Your focus is on the parchment again, searching for the cost the youngest member of your crew is having you foot. “He’s wasting ammunition and gunpowder as if it falls from the sky.”

“No.”

Occasionally Wonwoo argued with you, pressed you to see different perspectives but rarely did he disagree completely. Even more rare was flat out refusal.

“Pardon?”

“We’re not dropping Chan. He’s better than Vernon, and better than I was when I’d been doing it as long as he has.”

Your eyes slink to his, slow and purposeful. A lioness toying with her prey, gaze sharp as the knife you raised to his throat earlier that morning. Head tilting to the side, you open your mouth with a venomous smile.

“So when he catches up, I drop you?”

The threat is empty as the decanter perched on your desk, but there is always a sliver of Wonwoo’s heart that freezes at the possibility you’ll make good on it.

“You’ll never drop me.”

“After today, I might.” 

The charade drops in an instant. Eyes closing once again, you scrub your face until stars burst against the black backdrop of your lids. 

Nights like these rip open the place in your mind that rains endless questions. What if you remained in your little piece of the world? What if you accepted the frilly dress and silly parties? Allowed your father to make your marriage match as he saw fit for his own gains, a marriage to the cold Duke of Nas-Shost’s son or one of the brutish princes of Uspar. Perhaps you’d only be subjected to the violence of one man rather than dozens. Certainly there'd be less blood, fewer scars climbing your body like grotesque ivy. The warm arms of lavish life would embrace you, dull your mind till you were pliant as your peers. Produce babe after babe for whatever loveless man you’d been bound to, allowing nannies and wet nurses to care for your children while you indulged in cards and gossip like your mother.

Destined to be a mirror image of her dreamy smiles and distant eyes. A glance at your mother’s face showed her spirit miles away, blissful nothingness constantly clouded her features. Perhaps it was her own method of surviving your father. 

She mindlessly prattled in the few hours you spent with her as a child, typically spewing tattles of the neighbors and other society ladies as if it was of great importance. Laughing at her own quips and snarks that you couldn’t quite grasp the humor of. Only one conversation of substance ever occurred amongst dainty tea cups and porcelain plates of biscuits and cake. 

During one of the numerous lessons with your pious governess, Madam Atina, a hunched woman with a face like an old leather satchel; she’d hauntingly informed you everyone was born in the world with a cardinal flaw sealed in their soul. You’d run right to your mother, sharing the new knowledge with electrifying excitement. Her jeweled fingers brushed your hair as you sat in her lap, recalling the seven faults like it was an examination.

Your governess is right. She smiled.

What’s father’s? Pride. And yours? Envy. And me? You, my little bird, were born greedy as they come.

Barely seven at the time, you squealed as her fingers tickled your ribs, joyously unaware she bared your deepest secret so easily. But now, you understood why she always had a heavier hand in your upbringing than she had in your older sisters’. 

From the moment you left the womb, you’d wanted. Even with every luxury available, any whim granted, you’d always been greedy for a different sort of satisfaction. A different life. What use was having anything if you needed the approval of another to get it? Even as a child you’d resented the way your father had the final say on your mother’s choices. On your sisters’. On yours.

Imagination taking you to the stables every morning, pulling the shy stable boy from his chores to appease your need for a new identity. Finding freedom in the far edges of the palace gardens,  pretending you were soldiers on the front line between roses, using the bushes as cover before shooting make believe pistols at a fictitious enemy. Or two warring monarchs set to duel, branches becoming gilded swords as the day lilies provided their rapt attention. Sometimes you played pirates, forcing each other to walk the plank before breaking into maniacal giggles at the ridiculous accents you donned by the crystal lake.

The garden’s behind the estate remained a stage until your mother had you moved out of the nursery at twelve and into a private room down the hall to prepare you for balls and parties. New lady’s maids combed your hair up and tailored the hem of your dress down to brush the ground, signaling to everyone in court you were now of age. And then you were tasked with mastering a new kind of performance. The type that ends with your hands, neck, and crown covered in diamonds and your name on a contract to the highest bidder.

You and Wonwoo didn’t play anymore after that.

But now, even as misery loomed like a cloud over your head, at least you were alive with the knowledge that you created your own destiny. Now, the entire world is your stage, the gods your audience.

Wonwoo crosses to the door with a few long strides, the shuffle of his feet intentional to alert you to his movement.

“Make sure Hoshi checks on Seokmin. Don’t need his face getting infected.” You mumble into your glass, attention on the flame jumping from the black candle to the left of your desk. “And no food for our guests.”

“How long?”

“Three days, longer if they start fighting. Only enough water for them to stay alive.” 

Wonwoo’s exit is silent but his absence prickles the back of your neck, threatening to rip you to shreds. You try to focus on the pop and crack of the fire burning in the hearth across the room. How your throat burns raw with another swig of booze. Even the habitual press of your thumb across the silken abalone handle of your revolver does nothing to numb the world inside your head.

Waves crash below the windows of your office as you cut through the endless sea, pounding surf singing their nightly hymn of the souls you’ve banished from this world. The haunting tune echoes louder with the knowledge that their master is shackled in the belly of your ship. An atonal ballad filled with the ghostly rattle of the chains crossed around his wrists and throat.

Ventparsk

Sunlight glares from the vast waves, the harsh beams attempting to blind you, as an infinite blue sky supplies nary a cloud of reprieve from its brutal warmth. You’d never speak ill of a scarce blessing such as the weather of today. Glittering open sea as far as the eye could see, not a single blip in sight save for the dark mountain rising from the horizon.

Your crew has stripped their torsos down to their scarred and inked skin, only keeping the dignity of pants as they trudge back and forth below your watch from the quarterdeck. Braving the threat of a scarlett backside rather than risk fainting over the sides of the ship and into the depths. The roughspun linen of your undershirt tears across your skin as wind breathes and snaps into the white sails above, propelling the vessel closer to the crowded harbor of Ventparsk.

Weeks at sea had depleted the stock of provisions and riled the crew. Only so much entertainment to be had when surrounded by nothing but endless ocean and air. Even you found the monotony of the days tiresome despite the never ending responsibilities of being captain. Drinking and merriment kept everyone content enough, card games as well before Soonyoung inevitably ran his mouth directly into someone’s fists. He might have maintained a tight ship under your command but when everyone gathered at night to loosen their limbs and cheer their minds, a hit on Soonyoung was fair play. Sometimes encouraged. 

But the typical vices were no longer keeping their grumbles quelled. The gash on Seokmin’s cheek only fanned the flames higher. It was understood why you dealt him that hand, but their fondness for the newer member of your crew bred unconscious resentment. You’re not a physician but even you knew if you let the disease of discontent fester, it’ll kill the entire body.

The cure was simple enough. A few days wreaking havoc across dank gambling dens, cramped taverns, and numerous brothels in the great pleasure city would easily alleviate the tension rankling on board. Ventparsk opens its doors like an old friend to anyone with a few coins in their purse and your latest voyage ensured each of your crew would be welcomed like an emperor.

Ventparsk marina is a hodgepodge of every style ship and boat imaginable. Steel military ships from the cold north of Uspar tower above humble longships no doubt belonging to eastern traders of Truyso. Even oared ships from the dark days speckle through the thick rows of docks, Proera’s trademark. Your ship resembles one of the military fleet from Nas-Shost, swift and agile unlike the large square-rigged ships flying the blue and silver of the Islearain navy visible on the opposite end of the marina.

A cacophony of colors sail high above. The privateers and pirates aren’t stupid enough to announce their colors so boldly, but the armies foam at the mouth for a chance to intimidate the easily impressed. Amongst the other sheets flying in the wind, you recognize ally as well as foe. The sullen gray of the Usparian army here, a sheet rich maroon from Proera’s northern waters there. A rare flash of orange announces the Gulls, a band of Shostian mercenaries, are a long way from home. Even the maroon flag of the Seven Sirens flies high. If the Krakens had a ship to sail, the royal purple complete with a white circle and vertical slash would snap in the wind above all others. Cockiness bordering on stupidity, a bold challenge to anyone willing to follow them out of the harbor borders. But that tacky piece of cotton had been returned to the depths of the sea, finally resting where a Leviathan belongs.

The lush green flag with a golden ouroboros is hidden in the navigation room of the Hydra, far away from any prying eyes that may look your way. Men may be eager to have a public pissing contest, but you appreciated the fine art of minding your own business. The element of surprise and stealth could never be undervalued, only underappreciated. 

The hodgepodge of pirate crews, merchants, and soldiers neighboring one another along the decrepit docks only exist in the assumed neutrality of the city. If you’re caught fighting in Ventparsk, breaking the delicate truce that exists within its borders, there is no trial. Your entire crew is sentenced to hang as gull food above the gate that separates the docks from the city; staked with an iron rod through one end and out the other. And anyone is willing to sell out those that defy the rules, eager to abide by the code for the guarantee of a good time without the cold sweat of a knife to the back. 

After securing the Hydra, a portly man with watery eyes and a thick mustache waddles aboard. The worn olive green of his wrinkled uniform means he’s the customs master of this section of the marina.

He sidles up to Wonwoo, assuming his status of captain based on who can say what. Frustration lights a flame to simmer your blood, but it's better this way. The old men who run the ports won’t respond to a female captain, and if they do they’ll rip you off before finding a reason to banish you back to the open water.

“Cargo?”

“Nothing to sell.”

“Crew?”

“20.”

“Captives?”

“No, sir.”

“What’s the purpose of your visit?”

Wonwoo gives a lazy charming smile, “Just some men looking to enjoy the unique pleasures your lovely city has to offer.”

“Seems like you have something already on board.”

The desire to send a bullet through his skull swells riots but you reign her in. Last thing you need is to get your crew barred from the island city. Wonwoo would kill you himself.

Ignoring his comment, Wonwoo tosses the bag of coins at the officer. The old man fumbles to catch them but his assistant, a nimble tawny skinned boy who can’t be more than eleven, snags the jumbling coins before they hit the deck. In silence, they count and mark the toll in their book before smiling at the crew.

“Welcome to Ventparsk.”

You’ve tasked Wonwoo and his first mate, Seungkwan, with stocking up at the trading post. The younger man could barter with anyone and you only trust Wonwoo with the extra store of coins. It’ll take them the better part of the day to haul the crates down the docks and oversee the other crew organize them in the hold.

The night crew remains on board, dozing in hammocks strung between heavy cannons below deck in the berth to avoid the blaring sun. Jihoon remains on the quarterdeck, straw hat tucked low to cover his eyes; content to stay in his corner of the ship while others explore, never one to be tempted by the pleasure houses or bidding halls. The rest of the crew looks at him with pity for not lacking the desire to hand over his time to the intoxicating pulse of the city, but you know better. 

Back home, Jihoon has a lady. He hasn’t seen her in years but sends her a stiff share of his wage at the end of every job. The few letters he’s received during his time on your ship are kept in a wooden cigar box tucked under scrolls of parchment in the navigation room just above your own quarters. You’re only aware because the box was stashed with an abandoned codex you’d needed regarding the islands dappling the eastern waters of Truyso. In haste, the small wooden trunk clunked to the floor, spilling several envelopes stamped with a teal wax seal. Skimming the first few words of swirling script, the woman was rather…descriptive in how much she missed him. Jihoon chose that moment to shuffle into the space, fuming as you gapped over his private collection of personalized smut. 

Leaving the treasure of your heart in his capable hands, you stride through the rusted iron gate welcoming you to the much tamer southern district of Ventparsk. 

Rickety buildings line the streets, each advertising their services. Thick crowds bubble out of rowdy taverns and into the street, patrons unashamed to imbibe so heavily under the midday sun. The mismatched symphony of music pouring from open windows and crevices in the slats to greet them, seduce them back inside. Scantily clad brothel workers curl around banisters and press out windows, beckoning customers with a curl of a finger and twitch of the lips. The independents work hard to lure those with less pocket change to the shaded alleyways for a quick tryst against the dirty walls. Perched on the corners of cross streets, conmen rob those stupid enough to get tangled in their cheap card tricks.

The kid pressing past you barely makes it a foot before you snatch their wrist in an iron grip. Whipping the little pickpocket back to your person, you twist their arm at an angle that’ll force it to break if they so much as breathe the wrong way. Anyone looking, and no one does, will see a dotting sister ushering their younger sibling through the crush of the crowd.

“Where I’m from, thieves lose their hands.” You snarl down at the grubby face glaring up at you.

“I didn’t take anything!” She cries, voice thick with faux tears under the tattered hood of her cloak.

Your other hand reaches into her pocket to retrieve the polished silver dagger usually kept strapped to your side, flicking it into view between you. The cheap piece of steel was worth next to nothing. Best way to keep your coin is to let a thief think they bested you by giving them an easy target, too hard to resist.

“Liars lose their tongues.”

The fury at being caught brands her features. She’s barely skin and bones, moth eaten velvet cloak weighing more than her but blazing in her eyes is fire. The same fire that burned in your own as you learned the ways of the streets when you’d first left the cushion of your father’s kingdom. 

If you rat her out to the city guard she’ll be used as fish food. Or worse, one of the brothels will bid on her bond.

“Next time you wanna lift something, think about why it’s so easy before letting your hands get sticky.”

Retching her hand away, you brush her to the side, refusing to look at her face as you slip back into the crowd. She’ll find the coin you slipped in her pocket quick enough.

Each room of the Lion’s Den is draped in tacky swatches of gold and all variations of red. In this particular keep, a plush mattress is perched in front of the blazing fireplace. The garnet velvet bedspread trimmed with gold tassels clashes with the blush pillow cases, both jarring against the white oak bed frame and sheets of pale silk floating down from the bars. But the design of the room interests Wonwoo far less than the woman who inhabits it.

“How’s our little friend?” Yeseul calls over her shoulder. 

She’s perched at her vanity, using the light of an oil lantern to carefully fix the greasy smudges of red staining her lips. Wonwoo isn’t sure why she’s bothering with it. He’s paid for the entire night, she might as well remove wretched stuff. Laying back in the satin sheets of her bed, he lets one arm prop up his head as he watches the woman he’s visited for years tsk over her reflection. The swirl of smokey incense hazing her figure.

Yeseul was a few years older than he, versed in the ways of the world and determined to educate the once bright eyed boy he’d been. She’d imparted him with the knowledge of how to pleasure a woman even though he’d only fallen into bed with one other person. Taught the value of secrets in this world. Most importantly, Yeseul was the one who let Wonwoo know that the desire and devotion he feels towards Y/N was love, not just friendship.

“As pleasant as a spring breeze.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Wonwoo.”

“That gunk doesn’t suit you either but I settle for it.”

“You don’t pay enough for me to remove it.”

“And that’s my fault? You try to send me back with half every time I visit.”

“You’re more of a friend than a customer at this point.”

“You’re growing soft.”

“Mingyu says the same.”

“He wrote you?”

“Bribed a guard to get a letter out. Probably had to bribe him to write it too since he never learned to read.”

Wonwoo doesn’t ask if Mingyu will get out of the Iron Isle. Even with the guarantee of a fair trial, it takes years, sometimes decades. More men die waiting than in the gallows at the base of the prison. 

Yeseul isn’t a fool but she is a romantic. Consumed too many novels where ill suited love wins over all and anyone can be together if they just believe it. All wrapped up in a couple hundred pages. Her way of dealing with the ugly truths of the world. Yeseul is chained to the Lion’s Den the same way her lover is chained in prison. The same way Wonwoo’s heart will always be chained to his princess. Useless in hoping to be free.

“But she’s well?”

“A stretch of the word but I guess as content as she can be.”

“So you still haven’t told her.”

“If I was, do you think she’d allow me to run to your bed?”

“With how quiet you were earlier, I assumed it went poorly.”

“It would go poorly. Especially now.”

“Perhaps it's best to give her time.”

Wonwoo knows time isn’t what she needs. The only hope for anything beyond swift rejection would be a miracle performed by the gods themselves. If he were a smarter man, a stronger man, he’d stay away. Wouldn’t submit himself to the torture of her presence, her trust and reliance. But he’s not. Wonwoo is weak in all the ways it matters when it comes to Y/N. Ever since she walked into the stables when they’d both were barely knee high and demanded he submit himself to her friendship. He’s listened to every command since.

Few things in the world were certain but the one constant Wonwoo relied on was the sure way to lose Y/N was giving himself permission to want. Want her the way he has since they were teenagers, running away from curses of her father and his servitude and towards the unknown. Since she’d pulled him down into the hay in that dilapidated barn after too many swigs of the wine swiped from a merchant stall. Wonwoo never saw the smile she’d flashed him that night again. Bright and hopeful, a little shy as he covered her mouth with his own. Now the only stretch of Y/N’s lips carried a coldness, the gleam of teeth sadistic and sinister.

Hope is a fragile thing. Like a blooming spring flower just before the last frost, or a house of cards. Delicate. It has no place in this world he’s landed in. So Wonwoo doesn’t let himself hope for a chance to be free of the love in his heart. Accepts that in this life, there was never a chance for him to have Y/N the way he wants. Because the way he wants her fundamentally opposes who she is.

So Wonwoo allows himself the memories of before. Before they became Serpents, matching stains of ink at the base of their skulls. Before Jeonghan snatched her away; the scars marring her body nothing compared to what he’d done to her mind. Before Y/N found her way back, to him, to the crew, to the world of the living. 

Memories of the palace and her uncanny talent for finding him wherever he was on the grounds. The way she snatched him away from whatever task he’d been charged with to play her silly games, allowing him to be a boy instead of an indenture. How she snuck into the servants quarters and into his bed the night Jeonghan finally came to visit the kingdom. When she called him her friend for the first time. When she’d let Wonwoo hold her to his chest, warming them both against the frigid air after laying each other bare.

“Time won’t change anything.”

Wonwoo can never have anything more than what he has now. So he settles his heart at Y/N’s feet, and lets his body find distraction in another.

Always privy to his moods, Yeseul crosses back to where he lies. Perching herself in his lap, her ebony robe splits open to show the creamy skin of her stomach, the soft swell of her breast peeking out from behind honey waves of her hair, long neck split with the ruby choker all girls at this pleasure house wear. 

Maybe in another life, Wonwoo would still be a stablehand. In that life, Y/N would have married Jeonghan and the childhood friendship between a stable boy and the youngest princess of Iaslera was nothing but forgotten memories.

Yeseul’s finger traces from his lips to his chin, following the dip of his scar to his ear. It had taken him years to stop flinching when someone touched it, the sting of that rusted blade still haunting him. When her nail scrapes the hollow of his throat, Wonwoo shivers for an entirely new reason.

Flipping her beneath him, Yeseul’s flit of laughter tickles Wonwoo’s lips as he claims her mouth.

“Another.” You beckon the woman behind the mahogany counter, tilting your empty cup her way.

“What’s a lady like you doing in a place like this?” A disconnected voice murmurs too close to your ear, a waft of booze and snuff slipping around your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, the same dagger the orphan girl tried to claim is in your hand and pressed to the soft wood in a second. The presence behind you disappears when it catches the lantern light. 

The Twin Star is one of the better taverns in this part of the city. Drinks are cheap enough, other patrons keep their heads down and the barmaids tend to turn a blind eye when one needs to implement less than friendly means to ward off drunkards.

“Keep it up and I’ll have to cut you off.” Inri snarks but fills your cup with brandy all the same.

“You’re a cruel woman.” You mutter, cradling the cool glass to your chest.

“They say the same about you.”

“I’m flattered.” you mumble with a mock salute, loopy smile splitting your mouth.

She leaves you with a sigh. You’ve been here all afternoon, hoping to drown your dread at the bottom of a bottle. So far, you’re failing.

For the first time in years, you have no desire to return to your beloved vessel. The warm fondness for the Hydra replaced with frigid unease. A drunken stupor is the perfect excuse not to go back, at least for the night. Even with the unbending laws of the island, an unaccompanied woman roaming the streets of Ventparsk was unlikely to make ten paces before she ended up pushed into an alley. One under the influence of several hefty pours of whiskey might make five if she’s lucky.  

“There’s my favorite captain.”

You’re in no mood for company. Soonyoung must have been born under unlucky stars. 

“Can a woman not enjoy a drink in peace?”

He’s in the chair next to you before you can object, signaling Inri to bring him a glass as well.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you this drunk before.”

“What are you doing here, Hosh?”

Soonyoung has the courtesy to look bashful. Just down the street is the theater you know he favors, the Temple, with dark mahogany walls and swaths of dark blue silk curtains hiding what takes place beyond the doors. The shanty building housed dozens of artists, dancers, and singers. Acrobats and fire tamers. Entertainers and actors. He had been one of them before you'd lured him away with promises of adventure and riches unknown to a poor merchant’s son. Everytime you stop at the isle he walks right back home to greet his brothers and sisters.

“In the neighborhood.”

“Your family?”

“My ma is finally speaking to me.” He lights up. “Something about a fortune teller telling her to let go of old grudges or some other nonsense. But my sister is starting to do high ropes without a net! And my younger brother, San, he’s gotten better with the knife throwing and—

Soonyoung continues to ramble as you tuck your smile into your cup. At least one person has a good relationship with their family. If someone asked, you couldn’t confidently say which of your sisters were still breathing; only aware your mother and father were alive from the whispers of Iaslerian merchants complaining about royal levies to pay for the queen’s jewels. 

“One of the younger kids showed me some slight of hand with a coin and it looked alot like the ones we lifted from those traders in Uspar.”

Swallowing a mouth full of liquor you stay quiet. The little bastard just had to be one of Soonyoung’s kin because why not? The gods had a strange sense of humor.

“Strange.”

“I thought so too. Probably just a coincidence.”

“Probably.”

“Would my captain do me the honor of escorting her back to the ship?” 

Pointedly ignoring the knowing smile Soonyoung flashes, you take the arm he offers.

Nightmares

The three days in Ventparsk pass quickly. More booze, a tumble with a nameless man at the Winter Garden, and enough snuff to kill a horse provides a blissful mindless haze. You even managed a quick scrub down at one of the bath houses. Soaking in the heated tub for hours, muscles loose and pliant from the herbal steam and hot stones. Jeonghan’s rotting body in the moldy damp brig of the Hydra is nearly forgotten. 

Nearly.

Dreams always have a way of reminding us of the realities we wish to forget.

“You’re a dead man, Jeonghan.”

The bullet is screaming to make a home in between his ribs. Every muscle in your body pleading for the same. Sink the shot in Jeonghan’s heart and be free from him forever.

“Take them to the brig.” You instruct Jun. 

“Never could just get on with it, could you?”

The next sound from Jeonghan’s mouth is a shrill scream as blood gushes from his thigh. It swirls with the sea water still dripping from his soaked clothes, scarlett inking through the growing puddle, opaque tendrils soaking into the wood.

“Shua’s gonna have fun with you.”

Finally skating on the waves of the vast ocean, you descend into hell.

The consuming stench of stagnant water and mold invades your nostrils as you transverse through the cargo hold to reach the brig. A rat squeaks as it scurries past, looking for its next meal no doubt. You loathe this part of the ship. Too deep, not enough exits, no clear path up and out. Just another gift courtesy of Jeonghan.

Three bodies hang from their hands, bound up and over their heads, feet barely brushing the ground as the sway with rhythm of the tide. Burlap bags obscure their faces but you know which lithe form belongs to him. 

Shua sits at his desk, a collection of mismatched knives organized in neat lines like soldiers prepared for battle on one side. Jars of different poisons clink against one another in the wooden tray in the middle, the rainbow array of liquids each lapping at the sides of the vial for the chance to escape. On the far corner rests crude torture devices he’s collected over the years. Thorned strips of leather, several cat-o-nine-tails, and a lump of metal looking like a fruit with a knob attached at the narrow end.

The entire aura of Joshua’s corner of the ship screams anguish. A slaughterhouse for those unfortunate enough to stumble his way. It’s why no one visits him of their own volition. Not that he seems to mind, more than content to study the ways of the body than talk to one.

You take a seat across from the man dangling in the center of the room, nodding to Joshua to remove the sack from Jeonghan’s head.

Dark circles shadow his bloodshot eyes, cheeks sullen and pale, chapped lips bleeding. Nearly four days on board without food and possibly longer before they were rescued from the hunk of drift wood they’d been floating on while waiting to die has certainly done a number on him. You’d ordered Shua to provide the barest sips of water, just enough to keep them on this side of consciousness.

A metal goblet brushes against Jeonghan’s lips, urging him to tip his head back and swallow the cool liquid. Gulping down the contents without a thought, Shua refills it as fast as he can from a crystal pitcher. After a few shuddering breaths, another full cup is brought to his mouth and he downs it as well.

Idiot.

When Jeonghan eyes finally adjust to the pale light of the solitary lantern illuminating the cramped space, he sees you. Raising your chin, you know he won’t resist the opportunity to try and knock you down a peg despite his compromised position.

“Just couldn’t stay away.”

Joshua busies himself with arranging the necessary odds and ends on an empty wooden tray. He’s meticulous in his grisly craft, hands sure and perfunctory. The jostle of metal fills the room as he sets down the curated set on a stool next where you sit.

Not deigning to respond, you simply flash a sweet smile. The kind of smile a girl throws a man she wants something from, woefully out of place in the dark room you're standing in. But that’s precisely what throws Jeonghan off.

Standing, you snag one of the smaller double sided blades glimmering like a prized jewel amongst the collection. The ring at the bottom sits loosely around your pointer finger as you spin it round and round. Your steps are slow and calculated as you circle him, surveying his form from head to toe. Jeonghan is smart enough to try and keep his eyes on you but the metal collar around his neck prevents him from turning his head as you round him. Someone had the sense to remove his shirt before tying him up. Even if the shirt he came with was tattered to gossamer shreds, the fabric would find a use somewhere amongst the crew. 

A clammy sheen glosses his dull skin, the ring of red around his bound wrists blistered and raw. Curls of dark hair stick to Jeonghan’s forehead and the column of his neck, matted to his scalp with sea water, sweat, and blood. A spray of dark bruises along his ribs are slowly healing, no doubt from whatever destroyed his ship. They labor his breath, his chest barely moving with the shallow swallows of air. The dark stain of blood is dried near black around the hole in his left thigh.

As you stand back in front of him, toe to toe, your gazes meet. Frigid steel tip of the dagger dips into the valley of his throat before you trace it down his sternum to the soft flesh of his belly. Muscles twitch as he clenches away from the sharp bite of the blade, freezing his breath to avoid pressing into it. 

Slowly blinking you don’t turn away as you ask, “Shua, how long did you say it takes for the draught to take effect?” 

“At least a few minutes, but on an empty stomach much less. He should already be feeling it start to kick in.”

“Do you Jeonghan?” Digging the knife in the soft flesh just above his naval, “Can you feel it?”

Shua had explained the effects when he brought the vial to your office. An oily concentration of some exotic herb from the deepest reaches of the Proera, tasteless with only the faintest smell of damp earth. Typically used as a mild sedative, fond amongst those looking to see beyond the veil of reality and into the curtain between worlds. But a heavy enough dose tortures whoever ingests it with terrifying visions, nightmares come to life. Not fatal in the slightest but after the walls melt and the person in front of you turns into a demon, one might wish it was. Unknowingly, Jeonghan took a large enough dose to incapacitate a third of your crew.

An emotion you never imagined he felt takes root on his face. Eyes wild as he focuses on the copper cup now sitting at the corner of Shua’s desk, before they flash back to yours. You can see his brain turning, attempting to decipher what you’ve slipped him, how long he has before entering the unknown.

Jeonghan’s shuddering breath puffs against your cheeks, a small whiff of the herbaceous tincture carried along it. His feet roughly scrape against the floor as he tries to maintain his footing, chains around his wrist and neck relaxing for a moment before pulling taunt again as his damaged leg buckles under his weight.

Jeonghan quakes with the effort to remain quiet. Even with poison flooding his veins, he clings to years of training to resist succumbing fright. But nothing has prepared him for this.

A crack in the facade spreads soon enough. Broken pleas force past gnarled lips, chest heaving as he struggles to inhale. Soon he’s nothing more than a child lost in a crowd. Frantic, panicked, desperate. 

Horror consumes his face, the whites of his eyes visible as his eyebrows arch to his hairline, mouth opening to scream. Air rushes from his lungs as he wails, thrashing in his shackles without concern for the way the bitter metal rips into the flesh of his wrists and neck. 

You’ve already pocketed the knife that was pressed into his stomach. No satisfaction in killing him when he’s out of his mind, but watching him descend into madness will bring its own pleasure.

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

Turning to return to your seat, he screams again, “What did you give me?”

Jeonghan’s voice is shredded and raw already.

In the corner, Shua is rapt with macabre attention. Carefully jotting down notes in his journal for later examination. If one person on the crew terrified you it was the fawn eyed man sitting next to you. Being handy with a weapon was nothing when someone knew how to destroy your spirit by barely lifting a finger, dead before you knew what happened.

You observe as Jeonghan’s expression grows distant. Fear festers along the surface, bubbling under his skin. Muscles flex and twitch painfully. Ugly fat beads well in Jeonghan’s eyes to spill down his cheeks, wads of snot dripping from his nose. Splotchy red patches bloom across his pale skin, fevered flesh prickled with goosebumps. The rusted shackles bite into his skin again and again as he attempts to shake free, nearly strangling himself in his effort. Silent pleas for relief, for mercy from whatever phantom of his subconscious haunts him now.

The two other men in the back of the room thrash in their chains as well, bashing their skulls back and forth to cast off the hoods over their heads. Frenzied as their brave captain’s curdled screams pierce their ears.

The nightmares chasing Jeonghan follow you up to your room that night.

“My little bird tried to leave the nest, did she?” Your father snarls.

The piece of cloth tied around your head doesn’t allow you to answer beyond muffled groans as you struggle.

“Perhaps I should teach you what happens when a bird leaves its cage.”

“Captain!”

You wake with a gasp, the sound of gunfire and cannons shaking your core. Jun stands in your doorway, soaked to his skin with soot covering half his face.

“Captain, we’re under attack!”

The deck is a flurry of activity. Bodies running to and fro, some headed below for the gun deck to return fire. Walls of water pour from the sky, obscuring the view beyond the corners of your ship. In the distance, flashes of light from cannons on the ship attacking yours is the only indicator of a presence beyond the moon and tide. They’re running diagonal to your port side, that much is clear. The mainsail is shredded to pieces over head, damp canvas whipping from cruel winds. The Hydra won’t outrun the ship attacking, the only end is to fight.

Scrambling to the quarterdeck, you join Jihoon at the wheel. He does his best to steer clear of enemy range, careful to maintain momentum you can’t afford to lose. 

“Cut the wheel!”

“Are you crazy?”

“They’ve got too much speed, they can’t turn. Cut the damn wheel!”

Jihoon launches the wheel clockwise, shifting the rudders to turn starboard. The attacking vessel continues their path straight, unable to correct in time to cut you off as you slip behind them. But a second too late you both realize another ship lies in wait. 

The second enemy ship attacks from behind, capitalizing on the attention monopolized by the first ship. The crew launches grappling hooks tangling around the Hydra’s rigging for them to swing aboard. They flood the deck like ants emerging from their hill, easily out numbering your crew.

You pick off two swiftly, bullets wedged deep in their skulls the second their feet land on the quarter deck. Rain stings your eyes, blurring your surroundings. Friend and foe indecipherable as you jump to the fray on the main deck. 

Chaos runs free as blows are exchanged back and forth. It’s impossible to tell in the crowd of bodies who has fallen and who remains below deck to continue cannon fire.

Wonwoo and Soonyoung are back to back, facing off against five enemy fighters. Soonyoung nimbly dodges the swords aimed at his throat, returning his own killing blows with incredible fluidity. Charges of gunpowder sting the air as Wonwoo deals his own damage, sinking the shells into hearts and bellies before moving to the next.

Whipping around, you catch sight of Seokmin pinned down against the main mast, a giant of a man exhausting him with a sword. On reflex, you duck under a swinging arm as you charge forward. Sinking your dagger between the oaf’s shoulder blades you drag down with all your strength, ripping through the muscles tethered to his spine. The scorching gush of blood slips between your fingers, freeing the handle from your grip. Kicking out a leg, you land your foot along the back of his knee and bring him down. Over his head your eyes meet Seokmin’s. You barely catch the flash of horror on his face before the crack of a fist lands against your temple. 

Blood and rain and sea water soaks the deck, nearly sending Wonwoo to his knees. The wretch of death fills his nose, sulfurous gunpowder and bile sharpening his mind. He’s surrounded on all sides, the glint of steel flashing as lightning splits the sky. The teeth of a sword split his side open from the bottom of his ribs to his navel. Wonwoo can tell the damage won’t kill him but he’ll have a hell of a time recovering. The sting only dulled by the rush of a fight flooding his veins. 

Soonyoung is on his left, picking off enemies one by one, dodging the most damning blows and weaponizing their momentum to his benefit. Wonwoo would stop to watch if he wasn’t busy preserving his own life. 

Pushing his way to the center of the ship, he spots the door below deck fly open; Jeonghan and the other two prisoners ushered out by a small group armed to their teeth. In the same second, Wonwoo locates Y/N in his periphery; just in time to watch her crumple from a cheap punch to her head.

Rage thunders through Wonwoo’s veins. In a flurry, he cuts his way to the main mast, prepared to kill whoever he needs to. Seokmin rips his knife out of the person who knocked Y/N out but another of the enemy crew manages to drag her body over to the side where their ship is latched to the Hydra. They rush to get her aboard their ship, sensing the change in tide of the fight behind them. 

Clearly they’d been hoping to have the entire ordeal dealt with swiftly, not prepared for the force the Serpents are capable of. Minghao is already working to cut the ship away from the Hydra, nimble feet carrying him along the thin bulwark as he slashes the ropes snaring them.

Jeonghan and his cellmates are already securely on the opposite side of the gangplank, but the man holding Y/N’s body hasn’t crossed yet. If Wonwoo can provide enough of a delay, then Jihoon can get the Hydra back to the open sea. 

In this moment, Wonwoo decides to commit the most ill-considered act of bravery he’s ever mustered. Launching himself on to the enemy ship, he lands with a thud on their deck, guns blazing. He’s able to pick off one, two, four crew members before they realize what’s happening. Bodies dropping to the floor around him in quick succession. 

A final shot rings out before his ammunition runs dry and he switches to his dual swords strapped to his back. Wonwoo swings in wide arches, forcing his opponents back and away from the side of the ship to avoid the tips of his blades. Using the brief reprieve, he turns to kick the plank away, sending it to the crevice between ships just in time for Jihoon to tear free. Leaving his captain and her captor on the Hydra, and Wonwoo marooned with the enemy.

Saying a silent prayer, Wonwoo turns back to the crowd of what are no doubt Krakens, only managing to sink his sword's edge into one more before he’s overwhelmed.

A Tale of Two Ships

The Leviathan

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head. “Always running to save the princess, aren’t you?”

Standing before him, Jeonghan resembles a rotten pile of horse shite. Y/N’s torture strung him out, made him weak and unstable. Wonwoo watched the strain in his muscles, the moisture on his brow, the labor of his breath. Fresh, angry halos circle his neck and wrists, blisters drying and scabbing to an ugly assembly of yellows and browns.

With his hands shackled above his head and his feet chained to the floor, Wonwoo attempts to calm his breathing. Jeonghan wants him worked up, wants him to slip and play right into his hand. 

 “What she sees in you is beyond me. Bastard stable boy, with nothing to his name except a whore mother and drunk father.”

In four beats, hold four beats, out four beats, hold another four. Repeat.

“She’d sell your soul the second it became advantageous for her. You know that, right?”

In four beats, hold four beats, out four beats, hold another four. Repeat.

Wonwoo desperately tries to zone in on the lantern, to let his mind wander in the vast recesses of emptiness. Anything to spare him from the lies Jeonghan spews.

“I know you love her. Pathetic how obvious it is, Wonwoo. Reminds me of a story actually. Once upon a time, there was a stable boy who fell in love with a princess. Now the princess was clever and made the stable boy believe they were equals, friends even. Can you believe that?”

Jeonghan rounds to face Wonwoo, a sickening smirk spoiling his face.

“She knew the stable boy cared for her and would do whatever he could to protect her. So when it was time for her to stop playing make believe, she let the stable boy take her punishment. She let him die for her and the princess never lost a second to sleep. Because the princess, no matter how she sullied herself, knew he wasn’t worth the dirt under her fingernails.”

In an effort to stay quiet, Wonwoo grinds his teeth so hard they are on the verge of shattering. 

The defiant tilt to Wonwoo’s chin sends a flash of fury across the shorter man’s face before a serpentine smile curls on his lips.

“You don’t need to speak, stable boy.” Plucking a knife from his belt, Jeonghan flashes it into Wonwoo’s view. “But you will scream.”

And Wonwoo does.

The Hydra

Crowded around the large oak table of the Hydra’s navigation room, Jihoon, Soonyoung, Jun, and you spread over the atlas of the world. Attempting to decipher what Jeonghan��s plan for Wonwoo proves to be more difficult than anticipated. Even more so when you refuse to provide details on why Jeonghan would stage such an elaborate effort to capture you. 

Your crew knows he’s disavowed and wanted by the Atterast, Nas-Shost’s military. They know you’re the reason why but you’d carefully smothered any true details of how you and Wonwoo were involved. Rumors of Jeonghan being a disgruntled lover, while half true, were enough to satiate their curiosity.

“He hates Wonwoo but he hates me more. If his desire is to torture me then he’ll leave Wonwoo alive somewhere I’ll never get him.”

“Iron Isle?”

“Do you think he plans to have himself arrested too?”

“Nas-Shost is unstable. Would he take advantage of that?”

“They’ll kill him before he speaks.”

“He’s in no shape to attempt crossing to Uspar or Truyso.”

“What about Iaslera?”

Iaslera.

Jeonghan isn’t a fool but he is ambitious and vindictive. If your father promised him something in exchange for his original target then Iaslera is a likely place for him to go. And Jeonghan knows you’ll fall right into his hands.

The knife you’ve been spinning into the wood grain digs a fraction deeper.

“How many days till Iaslera?” You ask.

“With the damage…at least five.” Jihoon breaths.

“Five?”

“At least. And that’s assuming it’ll only take us three to patch the hole in the sail and get it rigged again.”

Five days. Wonwoo will be Jeonghan’s captive for five days. 

“Set course for Iaslera.” You bark, “And I want every spare hand helping patch that hole!”

The days of skidding across the ocean proved fruitful. If you didn’t keep yourself busy then a rut would wear into the wooden planks of your office from the endless pacing. 

If Jeonghan is truly in your father’s court then you owe the crew an explanation of what exactly the Pearl Palace of Iaslera holds. You were no artist, but luck shined on you once again with Minghao. Even the barest memories regarding the servant’s quarters or the stables were included. He sketched every detail, every crevice you could remember with shocking clarity. Reworking sections over and over until the proportions equaled out. Finally, the drawings resembled your home.

Home.

No, not exactly home. Maybe when you’d been a child, when the pearl and silver tiara felt like magic instead of a lead weight; eager to spend days lounging in the library, mind lost to far off lands and tall tales; riding along the familiar beaches, outpacing your chaperone; hiding in the gardens with Wonwoo, playing whatever new game your imagination supplied you two with.

Iaslera was the place you grew up, but the sandy shores and rolling hills only held beauty, not familiarly, the sleek marble walls bearing no warmth or fondness. It wasn’t the place you longed for when out at sea or deep inland. 

Home is the worn wood and white sails of the Hydra. Home is your mismatched crew of criminals, ex-soldiers, circus performers, and farmhands. Home is a stable boy who has been by your side since you decided Iasleria was home no longer.

Hours spent in the navigation room, your best fighters and strategists circled on either side of the heavy table, scanning the map detailing each floor of the palace. 

“What do you know about the guard rotation?”

“Nothing. Princess, remember?”

“Hard to forget. Can’t believe we didn’t realize before.”

“The way you strut about the deck did always seem particularly royal.” Jun scratches his chin, as if picturing you flouncing about with a tiara on your head.

“Would you like to know what princesses do when they’re angry?”

“Huff their nose in the air?” Soonyoung laughs. 

“Maybe if I didn’t have a gun.”

“The guards.” Jihoon reminds.

“I don’t know. My father knows we’re coming and he’s cocky. He’ll probably let us walk right in and assume we’re weak.”

“Sounds like an idiot.”

“So if we walk right in, what do we do?”

“Kill them.” Enea offers from her end of the table.

“If he hasn’t killed Wonwoo already he could have him hidden.”

“If he’s cocky enough to let us walk through the front door, do you really think he’d go through the trouble? He obviously isn’t thinking you have a chance of walking back out.”

“We probably don’t.” You say solemnly.

“What?”

“Best case scenario, my father dies and we walk away wanted by the throne. Most realistic outcome is I’m captured. If that happens, you grab Wonwoo and leave me behind.”

More than a few voices protest as the room descends into yelling.

“I’m your captain and you will listen!” You roar, silencing any objects with a swat of your hand. “Either we all die or I do. I will not pull you into this mess.”

“Not to seem uncaring but do you honestly believe we want to deal with Wonwoo with you not here?”

“He’ll be fine.” You assure. 

Wonwoo would have to be whether he liked it or not.

“He won’t.”

“The month the Krakens had you? Wonwoo shot me. Twice.”

“He got into a brawl with Soonyoung.”

“He didn’t talk for two weeks.”

“We leave with both of you. Or we die trying.”

“No one is dying for me! This isn’t some silly brawl in a washed out tavern or a rival crew we’re ambushing. My father is capable of suffering worse than anything you can imagine.” You pause, nearly choking on the horror twisting out of your stomach as you remember the king's most egregious acts. “When I was a child, I spoke out of turn at dinner once. Would you like to know what my punishment was?” Circling your gaze around the room. “He put a poker into the fire until it glowed red—”

“He hit you with it?” Seokmin opens his mouth in horror.

“No,” you swallow, “He couldn’t do anything that might leave a mark in case it made us…undesirable. We had servants assigned to take our beatings while we watched. I was five, and so was she. He hit her across the face with that poker. When I cried, he did it again. When I screamed, he hit her harder. Even if he can’t touch me, he will make sure someone suffers and I watch. I will not damn any of you to the cruelty he’s simmered on in the past ten years. Am I clear?”

The wooden door claps shut as you exit without waiting for their response.

The King of Iaslera

Wonwoo doesn’t remember summers in Iaslera being so cold. Perhaps the bloody purple bruises blooming like a grotesque garden across his flesh have made him susceptible to the biting chill clogging the air. Or maybe the blood coating the inside of his mouth and nose. Or the cold dig of gray stone in his side.

He recognizes the damp dungeons of the king’s palace from the guards uniform, pale blue smocks with a silver lotus blossom embroidered on the back. They haven’t chained him to rings jutting from the floors or walls. Unnecessary given that Wonwoo’s right shoulder is dislocated and his ankle is broken, jutting his foot out at an awkward angle. Even if the planets aligned and the gods blessed an escape, he wouldn’t make it three paces before collapsing onto the ground.

Wonwoo doesn’t have enough knowledge of anatomy to set his shattered bones, likely to do more harm than good if he makes it out of this cell to see another day. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to Shua’s ramblings on the intricacies of the human body when he had the chance.

But he knows his arm can be saved. 

The webbed pain coming from his shoulder is familiar enough. When Wonwoo turned thirteen he’d been assigned with helping break a new stallion for the captain of the guards. The stable master only let Wonwoo watch from the fence of the ring, eyes locked on the magnificent midnight steed. Proving to be a fatal mistake when the horse, Balius, charged right at Wonwoo, knocking him off the fence, down to the hard ground below. Once wind returned to his lungs, Wonwoo got a taste for the pain of a dislocated joint for the first time. 

It'd happened twice since. Once thanks to the same dock he owed his scar, and another courtesy of the first time Jeonghan tracked Y/N across the waves to Uspar. Wonwoo knows what he has to do, but he craves to postpone the inevitable until the last possible moment.

The guards patrol in front of his cell every time the clock in the palace yard gives a large chime to signal the top of the hour. Shuffling to the bars on his bum, he uses his good foot to push himself across the weathered stone of his cell, before leaning his damaged arm between the thick shafts of iron. 

Folding the bottom of his shirt between his teeth, Wonwoo prepares for the sear of pain. Even the faint memory of agony shoots gooseflesh down his spine. No matter how many times he’d done this, tears stung his eyes for hours till the pain sent him into a dark abyss.

Wonwoo knows if he screams, the guards will come running and eagerly dole more damage. A deep breath to corral any rogue shout that may escape his throat, and then he gives a sharp twist at his middle till he hears the sickening pop! A hefty grunt escapes into the fabric as fat pearls well in Wonwoo’s eyes, leaving clean streaks down his filthy face. Vomit rises in his throat as his vision blackens and whisps float through the haze. The surging throb curdles through his blood in time with his pulse as it rushes through his veins to every inch of his body.

The pain eclipses any of the other injuries he’s sustained so far but he tries to count his breaths, sucking in four beats and trembling out another four. His jaw feels as if it might break from how hard his teeth clench, fighting to keep the groans of agony on his tongue at bay. 

Folding in on himself, Wonwoo attempts to focus on how he will survive. At least he has the advantage of secrecy on his side. Perhaps he can get in a surprise swing if it comes down to it. Wonwoo won’t die without a fight. He’s come too far.

“I brought you the boy, now give me what you promised.”

“Our deal was for you to bring my disgraceful daughter, not some pathetic peasant.”

“If he is here, she will come.”

“You better pray to the gods she does, boy. Because if she doesn’t, I will show you there are worse punishments than death.”

Two days pass before a soul outside of the guards visits Wonwoo’s cell. A fever claimed him yesterday, sending his body into a fit of chills and muddling his brain. The thin fabric of his bloodied shirt and trousers stick to his clammy figure like a second skin. Wonwoo figures it’s finally gone for the kill when Y/N appears in front of the bars. Back in the finery of court, gown and jewels pristine. Hair tamed on top of her head in a style Wonwoo knows she hated, beautiful face weathered with age. 

No it wasn’t Y/N. It was her mother, Queen Demetria. 

Wonwoo had no quarrel with the Queen. She’d been as powerless against the king as everyone else. But even in her limited ability, she’d cared for him and his plight. When his parents dumped him at the palace gates as an infant and allowed him to find refuge within its walls. Tasked a maid, Miss Ele, with his care. When he turned five, Wonwoo was brought back in front of the queen. He remembers how the queen asked him his name, told him it was the name of a boy who would grow into a strong man. And she let him stay, working in the stables to earn his keep. 

There were worse fates for orphans.

With great effort he tips his head in a bow, nearly toppling over as his balance abandons him. “Your Majesty.”

“Is she alive?”

“I—”

“Please, is she alive?”

“Yes.” Wonwoo breathes. If Y/N was dead he’d like to think he’d feel it somewhere in his gut.

“What is she like?”

Wonwoo isn’t sure what to tell her. Few things are as solid as his loyalty to Y/N. But he owes the Queen his life. If she hadn’t been there, he'd have been dead long before he’d met her daughter.

“She’s,” he pauses, trying to figure what he can say without telling too much. His mind working at half speed under the fever, thick as molasses. “She’s incredible.”

The Queen gives him a watery smile, prodding him to continue.

“She’s brave, and smart. And she looks just like you. She’s a lot like you actually.”

“Really?” She swallows thickly.

“She tries to be like the king, but she… She’s…” 

Good? Wonwoo knew the extensive lists of crimes and cruelties Y/N committed, the unknowns easily assumed. Good was a stretch but she wasn’t bad. She fell somewhere in between, beyond an easy answer. It's the only way to describe the princess turned pirate. A low bar to say she hadn’t been as cruel as she could have been but it's true. She’d done horrible things but at her core she was as good as someone in her position could be. Like a flame. Able to burn down villages if left unchecked, but eager to keep a freezing family warm if given the opportunity. Fire burns because that's its nature, but you can’t damn candle for the crimes of the pyre. 

“I remember when you were brought here, Wonwoo. Just a baby. I’d still been carrying my daughter at the time. And I knew once Y/N came, she’d find you. A mother just knows.” The clamor of keys tickles his ears. “Your mother asked me to protect you and I promised the gods I would. She risked her life to save her child. She inspires me to do the same.”

The door to his cell swings open, ear splitting as rusted metal scraps against stone.

“I can’t walk,” Wonwoo pants. “they broke my ankle.”

The Queen pauses at the sight of his foot and Wonwoo can’t help but stare at her. The furrow of her eyebrows and twist of her lips remind him of her daughter. 

“I have several guards that are loyal to me, not the king. I’ll try to have one fetch you and help you through the tunnels.”

“I don’t know where I’ll go after.”

“Even when she was little my daughter had a talent for finding you. I’m sure she’ll be here to collect you soon enough.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, Wonwoo. You’ve taken care of Y/N all this time.”

“She makes it easy.”

“Love has a peculiar way of doing that, doesn’t it?”

Before he can say anything else, she’s turned to exit down the same hallway she’d come, heels echoing as she goes.

Jeonghan paces in front of the cell like a tiger circles its cage, like he is the one trapped inside and not Wonwoo. His hair is disheveled, eyes wild, tension stringing his muscles tight. Agitation consumes Jeonghan, even Wonwoo’s infection riddled mind can see it.

The sting of vomit and other refuse in the corner of Wonwoo’s accommodations stains the air. This morning, his urine was tinged pink. The sliver of hope of seeing anything beyond these walls ever again left when the Queen turned her back to him yesterday. No guards came to help him. Only ones providing small buckets of water for him to clean himself and drink from.

“She’s going to let you die in here.”

No reply. Not that Wonwoo has the energy to open his mouth, let alone goad the man. Let him drive himself mad for all Wonwoo cares.

“It was supposed to be her!” Jeonghan’s nostrils flare as he presses his face between the bars. His hands shake as they squeeze around the biting steel. “You ruined everything, you stupid piece of filth!”

The pieces of the mysterious puzzle click. Perhaps its infection induced delirium but Wonwoo finally understands why Jeonghan despises him so.

Jeonghan hates Wonwoo because he has what Jeonghan can’t get. No matter which way Jeonghan tried to rub his unworthiness in his face, she didn’t want him. Y/N chose Wonwoo, or that's what Jeonghan believes. A peasant-born bastard beat the son of a Duke. In Jeonghan’s world it was unimaginable. 

In Wonwoo’s world, it's unimaginable too.

He can’t help but laugh. Scratchy and unpleasant given his condition but full bellied laughter fills his mouth, splitting the silence of the dungeon.

“You think it’s funny? You’re going to die here and no one is going to care.”

Snorting around caked blood and snot, Wonwoo’s hysteria continues at Jeonghan’s words. Wonwoo is laughing at his own funeral. Wildly inappropriate, but the irony of the gods sends him into a fit.

Jeonghan turns to the guards, furious at Wonwoo’s inability to respond to his attempts to instigate a fight. “Move him to the throne room, the King is waiting.”

The guards manhandling him upright might have hurt if Wonwoo’s body wasn’t begging for death. He’s slipping away into the recesses of his mind, barely able to snag the thread of reality that continues to unravel before him as he giggles manically. The jostle of his ankle sends bile to his mouth, acrid burn flooding his tongue. 

Spots paint his vision, the movement fatiguing him quickly. His head lulls to and fro, muscles retired as they carry Wonwoo out of the dungeon and through the palace. Wonwoo’s eyes refuse to open, but he can listen. Every footstep thuds like a pulse, whispered words coming to him as if he’s deep underwater. A sharp gasp greets him when the guards finally pause.

The crack of his skull on marble is the last thing Wonwoo registers before he returns to darkness.

Onyx skies weep as a small dingy enters the harbor of Amesstino, welcoming the long lost princess home after years of separation as angry waves attempt to claim her for the tide. 

Disguised as a gang of traders, you and your crew silently dock and flee the tiny craft. Thick sheets of rain provide plenty of cover to sneak to the palace unseen. No one speaks, crashes of thunder shaking the earth and bolts of lightning splitting the sky. Even the wind whips against your body, lashing at your back. The gods are angry. 

Your fury is more dangerous.

The King anticipates your arrival, welcoming you with  abandoned guard posts and open gates. You walk through the front door with baited breath, not even a servant ghosts through the empty quartz hallways.

Several pairs of eyes take in the finery that is the Iaslerian palace. As if sculpted from a single piece of white marble, smooth ornate columns support the massive structure, free from any blemishes or ware. Pale blue tapestries embroidered with silver lotus blossoms hang from the ceiling in even rows like icicles. Exactly the same as the day you left, frozen in time, eagerly awaiting your return.

Imposing silver doors seal off the throne room, gleaming like two teeth waiting to bite. Their thickness prevents any sound from breaking free, leaving you woefully unprepared for what will greet you on the other side.

A single beat of breath passes before your crew heaves the doors open to meet your maker.

Guns cocked and teeth bare, your eyes quickly scan the throne room. In the center, your father lazes in his throne, eyes alight with cruel mirth. Your mother is poised next to him, mouth wide in shock, face pale as if she’d seen a ghost. Guards line the walls, swords drawn; tense for a fight.

But the heap sprawled to the right of the lotus emblem on the floor stops heart. The familiar mop of hair inkling across the braided silver and blue veins of the seal. His chest doesn’t move, almost unrecognizable through bloody bruises swelling half his face. 

Denial shrouds your mind. Wonwoo isn't dead. You’d feel it. In your gut, in your heart. Somewhere, you’d feel his soul leave this world and escape to the next. 

“I gave you the princess, now give me back my title!” Jeonghan demands, emerging from the line of guards to the left.

“You’re as much of a fool as your father Jeonghan! Did you truly believe I’d let you roam Iaslera? You ruined any chance to return to civility when you took that brand on your neck!” 

“You said—”

“Silence!” Carnos bellows, voice echoing between the walls. “My dear daughter has finally returned.” he smiles, “I wish to welcome her back.”

Your breath stutters in your lungs. You’ve had countless knives to your throat, guns to your back, brawled with the rowdiest of thieves and criminals. But the bravery curling around your edges shrinks back in the face of your father. 

Suddenly you're five again watching Dirce cowering on the floor, with a bloody welt across her face. Helpless as your father unleashes the monster that lurks under his skin. It’s all your fault. Your greed. Your pride. Your envy. No one is to blame but yourself.

“You wanted me here.” You manage to steel your voice. “ He’s of no use now. Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want.”

If your father wants your submission, to see you beg, you’ll do it. He can break you if it means your crew will be left whole.

“What I want is for you to finally learn your place. And you will, in due time. But first, you’ll watch your little bastard lose his head.”

“No!”

“Be silent!” He demands, guards taking a threatening step forward. “You insolent little bitch! You thought you could escape me? I am a King! You are nothing. Less than nothing. You couldn’t even escape that pathetic excuse of a pirate on your own! You needed a peasant to—”

A gunshot rings through the room. A hole in the king's chest releases a trickle of blood down his front, staining the creamy linen shirt. King Carnos shakes as he dips his chin, mouth open in shock as he realizes he’s been shot.

The smoking revolver in Jeonghan’s hand quivers, his eyes wide at what he’s done.

An eerie smile creeps across your father’s face, blood staining his teeth. His last words are indecipherable as he chokes on the next rush through his mouth.

Not even a mouse squeaks to break the fragile silence hanging in the air, bodies frozen to the floor as the great King of Iaslera falls. 

Then chaos explodes.

Your mother wails as she registers what's happened, guards rushing in an attempt to aid the king. 

Every muscle in your body screams to flee but your mind keeps you on your knees. The king is dead. Your father is dead. Mouth slack, you shiver as death brushes past you, her chilled hand resting briefly on your shoulder before she steps forward to claim his soul. The once faint whispers of the sea trickling into your ears again. I’ll collect you eventually, princess. But not tonight. Death will have to wait once more for you to trail behind her.

Soonyoung drags you by your armpits, screaming something in your face that you can’t hear, the ring of the bullet replaying over and over; as if you’re under the waves and life is happening far above on the surface. Wonwoo’s limp body still rests in the corner, face bruised and caked with flaking patches of deep maroon.

Everything rushes you at once.

“Come on Y/N!”

“Wonwoo, get Wonwoo!” You shriek hysterically over Soonyoung’s shoulder as he pushes you out.

“We’ve got to get back to the boat!”

“Please!” You beg, voice horse as tears streak your face. 

Hand iron tight around your wrist, Soonyoung doesn’t let you break from his grip. You barely make out Jun and Jihoon carrying a third body before you’re outside and nearly falling down the cliff to the shore.

Seokmin fights to keep his hold on the dingy as it batters against the sand. You and Soonyoung are the first to make it. Minutes pass by as you watch the remaining members of your crew fly down the stairs, slowed with the added weight of another. You can’t breathe. 

Jihoon hauls Wonwoo into the ship first, followed by himself and the other men. 

Nothing else matters, just the weak rise of his chest. It’s the tether your sanity latches on as you return to the sea.

Dreams

In the liminal space between life and the abyss, Wonwoo dreams. 

He dreams, and he remembers.

The first time Wonwoo meets the princess, he discovers she’s insufferable.

The little girl glides his way, the self-righteous air of importance swirling her stiff shoulders. “What is your name?”

Wonwoo just gives her a slow blink, she’s woefully out of place amongst the smells and sounds of the stable.

Turning to the older woman, the snobby girl asks, “Is he simple?” 

“I’m not simple!” Wonwoo objects.

“Then what is your name? You have one don’t you? Or do you prefer I call you ‘stable boy’?”

“My name is Wonwoo.”

“Nice to meet you.” She says, nose high in the air as she extends her hand.

Wonwoo hesitates before shaking it like he’s watched the older men do when they settle a deal.

“No!” She objects, snatching her palm away. “You don’t shake a lady’s hand.”

Her scolding confuses him, twisting his face.

“You do know what a lady is?”

“Of course I do!” He stomps. “You’re just a girl!”

“Ladies are girls, you idiot!”

An older woman steps in, “Ma’am, your horse is ready.”

Huffing indignantly, the little girl twirls to flounce to the other side of the stables. She walks as if the ground only exists to rise and meet her foot with each step. The princess is headed where the caramel colored mare that bit Wonwoo two days ago waits. Figures. Crazy horse for a crazy girl.

—

“Would you like to play with me?”

“I have chores.”

“They can wait until after we play.”

“Go on, son.” urges the older groomsman Wonwoo assists. “I’ll take care of your stalls.” 

His eyes shift as he stammers for another excuse. Play with the crazy girl? He’d rather shovel the entire stable twice over.

Wonwoo doesn’t get the chance to speak before she snagged his wrist, pulling him towards the wide entrance. “Come on!”

Once tucked away in a secluded corner of the garden, both panting, Wonwoo looks at her. She looks about his age, only an inch shorter than he is at seven years old. Wisps of loose hair float around her face with a few tiny braids and twists pinned here and there. Delicate threads of silver intertwined throughout. Her dress is simple stormy blue but the fabric clearly indicates it isn't a hand me down like all his torn and patched clothes are.

“Do you know how to play soldiers?”

“Yes?”

“Teach me.”

“Huh?”

“My sisters don’t know how and when I ask the boys in court they won’t play with me.”

Wonwoo spends the rest of the afternoon running around the garden with Y/N. She’s decided they’re nations are at war, and this is the final battle.

“Yield!” She cries.

“Never!”

“Your majesty! What are you doing?” The shrill voice of an older maid rings out. “Young ladies do not roll in the dirt with servants! Certainly not princesses!”

The wrinkly woman grabs Y/N’s wrist, shooting a glare at Wonwoo.

“And you! Don’t you have chores that need finishing?” The maid spits before whipping around towards the palace.

The little princess mouths a silent apology over her shoulder, remorseful round eyes only leaving Wonwoo when she’s dragged behind a hedge.

“No way to behave! Your governess will have my head when she sees you…”

—

“Do you like burnt sugar cake?”

Wonwoo continues to ignore any effort for conversation, focusing on raking the new hay he’s laid down in the stall. Now that he’s twelve he’s given more responsibilities than just tossing the soiled hay into a cart.

“How long will you be angry with me?”

More silence. It’s the only thing Wonwoo can control in the unbalanced dynamic between himself and the youngest princess of the court. If she wished, she could command him to do whatever she wanted, the threat of whips at his back. But she allows Wonwoo to be angry. To be silent. She’s sat and mopped for the past two hours, huffing and sighing as Wonwoo refused to acknowledge her bids for attention. He ducks into the next stall and begins the same repetitive steps he has all morning, allowing the sweat on his brow and pull of his body to dull his mind.

What business was it to the princess that he couldn’t read? 

When he exits, he finds the piece of confection wrapped in a silk handkerchief on the wall of the stall, Y/N nowhere to be seen.

The stables aren’t warmed with her presence again. Wonwoo never admits to missing it.

—

“I’m going for a ride!”

“My lady, Muriel has oyspox and there is no one else to escort you.” A stammering maid attempts to placate the fuming princess.

“If my mare is not saddled this instant I will take someone’s head!”

“You cannot ride without accompaniment!”

“He will escort me.”

Wonwoo knows she’s referring to him without looking away from the saddle he’s rigging onto one of the guard’s horses. A rambunctious sandy colt named Athos with a penchant to buck at strangers. He’s one of Wonwoo’s favorites.

“Ma’am, he is a stablehand!”

“Which is of no concern to me.” The rich timber of her voice is decidedly royal. “He will be my escort and that is final.”

Handing over the reins of the stallion to another servant, Wonwoo sets towards the tack room for the appropriate gear. The dark leather saddle and matching bridle is in perfect condition despite going years without use. Wonwoo would know, he’s the one charged with oiling them.

The familiar caramel colored mare is clearly excited for a ride, baying over the door to her stall. Wonwoo can’t stop the grin from spreading to his lips. Over the years, Kalsta had become as familiar as the back of his hand, only nipping his shirt when he refuses her a treat.

Once Kalsta and another stone gray mare are prepared, the fuming princess mounts her and dashes from the stable. Her hair blasting behind her as she pushes into a dead sprint across the hills leading to the coastline below the cliff housing the dazzling white palace.

Wonwoo’s eyes roll, but follows nevertheless; careful to remain several paces behind, even when the horses tire to a trot. From this distance, Wonwoo catches a few muttered words about some royal from the next continent over the crashing waves.

“If you were to marry a girl, wouldn’t you care to know more about her than which season she prefers?”

It takes Wonwoo a moment to realize she’s finally addressing him directly. When he does, he fumbles for an appropriate answer.

“I–,” he stammers, “I don’t know. I guess.”

“Then it is of no coincidence if you disagree with her about other more important topics?”

“Such as?”

“Such as… well I’m not quite sure but certainly there are more important things than my preferences in tea.”

“Surely there is, Your Grace.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“A humble servant would never mock their sovereign.”

“Humility is a virtue you lack in spades, Wonwoo.”

The grin pulling at the corners of his lips wins the tug of war with his mind. “Ahh, so she does remember me.”

Rolling her eyes, the first smile Wonwoo has seen all afternoon blooms on her face. “Of course I remember you. A girl never forgets the first boy she beats up.”

“You didn’t beat me up!”

Her warm chuckle brightens the atmosphere despite the nipping autumn breeze.

“So you’re to be married?”

“If my father has his way, yes.”

“What’s he like?”

“My father?”

“No, the prince you’ve been mumbling about.”

“He’s not a prince, he’s the son of a duke in Nas-Shost.” Y/N picks at the seam of the saddle. “We’ve been engaged since I was twelve, but I’m not sure what he’s like. We’ve only written a few letters.”

“A few letters since you were twelve?”

“Marriage wasn’t as looming when I was a child.”

“And you haven’t learned anything about him in all that time?”

“He tries to charm me but I find it quite dull.”

“Picky princess.”

“Is it so wrong to want a man of some substance?”

“Like what?” 

Wonwoo hadn’t thought much about marriage at all. He’d caught a few of the younger maids staring at him when he worked without his shirt on but paid them no mind. No one ever gave him reason enough to think of anything more than some lighthearted touching. He was barely sixteen after all.

“I don’t know. His words tell me nothing about who he is or what he enjoys. Only that he is an incorrigible flirt who takes interest in trivial matters of taste.”

“You don’t want a man who charms you?”

“I want a man who has meaning beyond a made up title.”

“‘Made up title’,” he rolls the words around his mouth. “I believe that borders on treason.”

“Does it count if I’m referring to myself?”

Wonwoo continues to ride with you in silence, this time matching your pace. 

—

Wonwoo wakes to whispers of his name, urgent calls for him to break the delicate surface of dreams. He fights a shout when he finds Y/N hovering over him, hand covering his mouth. Brushing it aside, he throws his gaze around the tiny space of his quarters before returning to her.

She’s cloaked in a gauzy dressing gown, the thin cream cotton of her nightgown peeking out between the deep blue lapels where the soft skin of her chest disappears; bedraggled tendrils of hair curled around her shoulder. The gentle flicker of candlelight casts her face in a hazy glow, flame reflecting in the dark center of her eyes. The princess is in his room, perched on the side of his bed, face inches from his own. Wonwoo must still be dreaming.

“He’s here.”

Wonwoo’s brain is thick as cold honey, the day in the stables more grueling with the additional horses the king’s guest brought. “What?”

“Jeonghan. He’s here.”

“And you’ve come to my room to tell me this?” Wonwoo turns his back towards her and closes his eyes.

“He’s horrible.”

Her admission gives Wonwoo pause. Glancing over his shoulder, he catches a wet trail of tears glossing Y/N’s face, chin tucking to her chest to hide her visage amongst her hair. Pitiful whimpers spill from her lips. Wonwoo nearly chokes when she throws herself into his chest, hot beads streaming onto his bare skin as the walls of control crumble.

“He’s awful, Woo.”

Wonwoo has never navigated such an emotional response from Y/N, from any woman really. When they’d been children, she’d stomp her foot and storm away when upset. Or sometimes tackle him to the dirt and pin him under her till he apologized and begged for mercy. He’s completely out of his depth..

Remembering how his mother would comfort him, Wonwoo lifts a hand to stroke the top of her head. A fresh round of tears erupt, shaking her against him. A loud bawl escapes Y/N, freezing Wonwoo’s blood. He cannot get caught with the princess in his bed. Not in this state; thin cover pooling around his waist, his chest bare and her’s barely covered by thin scraps of fabric. Both states of dress were courtesy of Iaslera’s brutal summers. But a coincidence wouldn’t save his sorry hide if another servant walked in.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo whispers gently. “It will be okay.”

The lie does nothing to stifle her sobs.

Trying again, “It will be fine, I promise.” 

Wonwoo has never been a master of words.

“It won’t!” She shudders. “He’s awful, and rude. And he looks at me like nothing more than some prized horse.”

“They’ve only arrived today. Surely he cannot be that bad already.”

“He’s exactly like my father.”

Y/N’s father. Less of a man and more of a waking nightmare. Wonwoo barely interacted with him but the King’s reputation was well known across the kingdom.

Any words of comfort die in his chest. There’s nothing Wonwoo can do. That anyone can do.

“I wish I’d never been born.”

If Wonwoo had been born in her position, he’d wish the same thing.

“You’ve always wanted to see Nas-Shost.”

“How wonderful it will be from the confines of a palace.”

“Perhaps he’ll allow you to travel. You said the King hardly visits the Queen since you came about.”

“So I’m to pray he takes up a mistress after he’s had his fill of me?”

Telltale signs of her fury take root. Huffed breath and shaking hands, a husky scoff punctuating each sentence. Perhaps anger is better than sorrow. Wonwoo has placated her many times when the princesses' temper emerged. This would be no different.

“I’d pray he takes up several, then he’d be too busy to bother you, and let you do as you please.”

“I’d do as I please anyway. He’s barely a duke and I’m a princess.”

“Yes, as you’ve reminded everyone with every breath you take.”

“Jeonghan is the one who acts like his title is of importance! ‘Future Duke’ this and ‘when I am Duke’ that. He squawks like a bird.”

“You’re not quite dazzling to be around either so he might bore quickly.”

“I could have you arrested for speaking ill of the royal family.”

“And what do you plan to tell the guards, your highness?” Wonwoo smirks. “That you forced yourself into my chambers past midnight for some gossip and found yourself offended?”

Wide eyes glace down to his naked chest, jumping to her own as she pulls her dressing gown around herself tighter. The apples of her cheeks warm enticingly as she realizes the precarious position she’s arranged them in, still half in Wonwoo’s lap, perched between his legs.

As if burned, you jump away from his bed to the wall only a foot away. “I—. I didn’t, it isn’t.”

“Isn’t what, princess?”

A pause before indignation takes flight. “You truly are  insufferable!” She quietly shouts. Spinning to exit his room with a dramatic sigh.

—

“I wish for a ride.”

“I’m occupied, ma’am.”

“Well make yourself un-occupied.”

“Her Majesty wishes it, so it will be.”

“How I hate when you call me that.”

“What would Her Royal Highness prefer?”

“For you to shut your trap!”

“Such foul words from a lady.”

“I have several more for you if my horse isn’t ready soon.”

“Your Highness, would you mind if I accompany you for your ride?

“I prefer to go alone.”

“You’re going with the stable hand.”

“It’s required that I have a chaperone. Since he’s a servant, he doesn’t count as company.”

Wonwoo tries not to take offense to the subtle insult to his station. He knows she doesn’t mean what she says but the words resemble the same ones he’s heard from other, less friendly, lips many times before.

“I see. Well, I hope to speak with you when you return.”

“Of course, Jeonghan.”

—

“You want to what?”

“Leave. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

“And just how do you expect to do that? You’ve never left these grounds.”

“That’s a lie! I visited Anlehm when I was thirteen!”

“With a royal escort! A girl on the road by herself is completely different.”

“I won’t be alone.”

“And who will join you?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Please keep up Wonwoo, we don’t have much time to discuss.”

“Why me?”

“You are the only person in the world I trust.”

She speaks as if the admission is little more than declaring the day's weather, but the weight rests heavy on his shoulders. The only person the princess of Iaslera trusts is a bastard stable boy with nothing to his name. 

“And as such, I will need your assistance.”

“I’ve never left the palace.”

“But you understand peasant things like money.”

It’s not a slight, simply the truth.

“So I am nothing more than a guard for you?”

“Of course not, you’re my friend.”

Friend. Friends with the princess. Gods help him.

“A friend would tell you your plan is madness.”

“And you?”

“You’ll do it anyway.”

“You know me well.”

“If we’re caught, I’ll hang.”

“Then we won’t get caught.”

“Because it is as easy as that.”

“‘If her majesty wishes, so it will be.’ Remember?”

“So it will be.”

—

“What do you know about sex?”

Wonwoo chokes on the large bite of apple he’d been munching on. “Pardon?”

Rolling to her side next to him under the shade of the lush fruit tree, Y/N starts again. “Sex. What do you know about it?” 

“I— This isn’t an appropriate conversation for a lady.”

“Well I’m no longer a lady, considering I’ve run away with a servant. I’m thoroughly disavowed from the crown. No need to worry about corrupting me.”

Corrupting her. Him corrupting Y/N. 

Oh.

The thoughts were already there, smothered by his own guilt of imaging his friend in that way. Wonwoo suddenly pictures the first time Y/N wore trousers, the roughspun fabric hugging her rolling hips as she glided by. Worse, she didn’t even realize what she was doing, having his tongue nearly hung out of his mouth like a panting dog. And now she’s asking him about sex? Perhaps leaving the palace was a bad idea.

“It's something people do to pass the time.”

“I know what it is, Wonwoo. What is it like?”

“I don’t know. Probably like kissing I suppose.”

“And what's that like?”

“You’ve never?”

“Princess, remember?”

“Well it’s…sort of wet? And feels nice. It’s hard to explain.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me what kissing is like.”

—

“Wonwoo.”

“Yes?”

“You’re really quite handsome. Do you know that?”

The burn of whiskey on an empty stomach loosens even the lips of royalty, it seems.

“High compliment coming from a princess.”

“I’m not a princess.”

Y/N huffs, stumbling back into the mound of hay Wonwoo collected for sleeping. Fall looms on the horizon and the chill of the evening air requires sharing the ratty blanket. Wonwoo would happily sleep in his own pile but her disposition after a cold night left much to be desired.

“You’ll always be a princess. You still walk like a princess, talk like one, even order me about like we never left the palace.”

“I do not order you around!”

Shrilling his voice in mockery, he does his best impression of what he dubs her ‘princess voice.’ “Wonwoo, fetch us breakfast. Wonwoo, teach me to fish. Wonwoo, show me how to use a knife.” 

“Well you listen so well it’d be a shame to waste a talent.”

A pause.

“I like when you order me about.”

Perhaps he’s indulged too much as well.

“Wonwoo.”

“Yes?”

“Will you teach me about kissing now?

That night, Wonwoo teaches you everything he knows. He also learns sex is much more than passing time.

The Edge

Dark. Wonwoo registers darkness and warmth first. As his soul slowly returns to his body he realizes he’s laying down in a cot, the unmistakable sway of the sea rocks him to consciousness. And then, Wonwoo realizes he hurts.

A sharp pounding echoes through his bones in time with his weak pulse. Each breath stretching his lungs to the point they feel as if they’ll shred. One of his eyes is swollen shut and the other waters uncontrollably under the pain. 

A squeeze around his hand anchors his attention. Using whatever reserve of strength he has left, he tries to squeeze back.

“Wonwoo?”

The voice is familiar, buttery smoothness pleasant to his ears. Wonwoo hopes the Voice will continue saying his name. Maybe it will lull him back to sleep and away from his torment.

“Wonwoo?”

How lovely the Voice is. Perhaps he is still dreaming, the smooth slide of a warm palm against his forehead comforts him before the roughness of a damp cloth wipes at his brow. 

A pause before the Voice removes what Wonwoo assumes is her hand. He calls on the reserve of strength again to protest, coughing a weak groan into the space above him.

“You’re awake!” She says, as if it's some marvel. 

When she dives into his chest, Wonwoo nearly screams. His ribs protest her weight, his lungs on the verge of collapse. But on his skin he feels her hot wet tears, her nose digging into his breastbone. Even her lips brush against the sensitive flesh as she cries his name over and over. The desire to wrap his arms around her is quelled by protesting muscles. It feels as if he’s wading through wet sand.

She must sense his pain because she removes herself from his person and coos for him to sleep, raking her fingers across his scalp gently as something foul and oily slips between his lips. Sleep, what a wonderful idea.

The shallow rise and fall of Wonwoo’s chest has been the subject of your attention for three days.  A part of you fears that the moment you look away it will stop.

He’d woken for the first time in the early hours of the morning a few days ago, the sun barely rising from his bed beneath the horizon as Wonwoo breached consciousness. Shua lectured on and on regarding the significance of rest to healing. Better for Wonwoo to sleep fitfully than wake in agony. But the more frequent he broke the surface of slumber the more anxious you became. 

A brief shift of your focus to the vial of murky sedative Shua left for you to administer gives Wonwoo enough time to wake with a heart wrenching groan.

“Shhh,” you coo, settling the cool cloth back on his forehead. “You’re alright.”

“Y/N?” Wonwoo mumbles, eyes firmly shut but his eyes moving rapidly behind his lids.

“I’m here.” 

You move your free hand to his own on the side of the bed, thumb stroking the backs of his fingers in an attempt to sooth him. 

“Princess.” he slurs.

The pained sobs you’ve released quietly over the past few days return, watering your entangled hands as you rest your forehead against them. 

Even in death, your father still torments you.

Wonwoo becomes fully sentient after a week. Weak from hunger and dehydration, but alive. Shua fusses over him at all hours like a mother hen, mixing vials and brewing all types of teas to speed his recovery along. Luckily, with all of the commotion from the crew to see Wonwoo with their own eyes, you’ve been able to fade to the shadows. 

Taking the wheel yourself gives Jihoon a chance to descend below deck. Or offering Soonyoung the opportunity to share a meal with Wonwoo as you man the rigging. Anything to stay away from the room next to your own.

Somehow Wonwoo awake and aware is worse.

But only so many distractions exist in such a small space as your ship. The crew begins to brush aside your offers of assistance, urging you to have time with Wonwoo now that he’s healing. You’re at the end of your rope when Seungkwan informs you of Wonwoo’s request to see you.

You can feel Wonwoo’s eyes watching you in the corner of his room, your own tracing the whorls in the wood grain of the floors, walls, and ceiling.

You break the silence first, “Are you angry with me?”

“When have I ever been angry with you?”

“I’m angry with myself.”

“That’s why you’re you and I’m me. I chose to go on his ship.”

“It’s my fault he was here in the first place!”

“Do you think I’m incapable of making my own choices?”

“I’ve never,”

“If given the same chance, I’d do it again. I don’t regret it.”

“I—”

Wonwoo cuts you off before you can protest. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

This is the start of the conversation you’ve been running from. 

“I haven’t.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He’s right. And rather than continue to lie, your feet carry you out the door and back in the safety of your office.

Two more days pass before you gather enough courage to brave him again. You’ve never been afraid of Wonwoo; never shied away from his presence. Even after tense moments, having him around was a comfort and he indulged your desire to ignore whatever bubbled between you two. But not anymore. Wonwoo is demanding answers you don’t have to questions you're terrified of asking.

He sleeps thanks to the sedative Shua slipped in his tea before re-sewing some of the garish stitches along his ribs. 

Resting in the chair next to the top of his bed, your eyes catalog his features. Even through the swelling and bruises, Wonwoo’s still handsome. From the sharp tilt of his jaw to the gentle pout of his lips, even his scar warms your heart as he dozes. It's hard to settle the panic hanging over your shoulder, a swirling mass of fear and dread. 

So lost in your own mind, you don’t realize his good eye is open and glaring straight at you.

“You’re back.”

Jumping at the rasp of his voice, you launch to your feet. “I was just leaving.”

“Of course you were.” He scoffs. 

The venom in his tone freezes you as your fist clenches around the doorknob.

He continues, “I asked Jihoon to take us to Ventparsk. I’m going to find a new crew.”

“What?” You’re trembling.

“You don’t want me here.”

“I never said that!”

“You don’t have to! You can’t even look at me without running in the other direction!”

Wonwoo just stares. He’s patient in the worst ways and the injuries littered across his face obscure any emotions he may be experiencing himself.

“I don’t know how to do this, Woo.”

“You’re too scared to try.”

“Maybe I am! But if I’m a coward, what does that make you?”

“A fool.” he spits. “I can’t pretend to not feel for you. Not anymore. If you truly do not want me then I’ll make it easier for the both of us and allow you freedom from any guilt.”

What can you say? The man you’ve bound yourself to in mind, body, and spirit, who has risked his life for you more times than you can count, is willing to walk away for your comfort; unconsciously taking half your heart with him. The idea saps the oxygen out of your lungs. You without Wonwoo. Like a flower without the sun. The sky without stars. Ocean without a tide.

Wonwoo has never asked, only allowed you to take endlessly. Perhaps it’s time you give something to him. 

Tears are welling in your eyes before you can speak. “I don’t want you to go.” Shaking your head, your voice breaks as you cry like the little girl you were so long ago. “Don’t go.” Quivering like a leaf in a storm you beg. “Please.”

Through the blur of tears you can make out Wonwoo attempting to rise out of his cot. The extensive wounds and injuries make it a Herculean effort, causing him to nearly topple to the floor before you approach him. Strong arms tangle around you as you bury your face into his neck, pleading for him to stay.

“I don’t know what else to do.” He whispers into your hair.

You continue to bawl, plagued by images of your lonely figure, missing the better half of your soul. The only steady presence in your life, the one person who played witness to your weakest moments. Months of separation at the hands of fate were child’s play considering the bleak future Wonwoo suggested. Nothing sacrificed or gained would be worth the pain if he isn’t there to share it with you. 

“Please.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“If this makes me selfish then yes I’m selfish! I’m selfish and I’m cruel because I can’t imagine a world where we separate. Please!”

“You’ll make do.”

“No I won’t.”

“So you ask me to stay by your side, knowing how I feel, and do what? Ignore it? Pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“When have I ever asked you not to feel?”

“When have I asked you for anything? Any wish or whim in my power I do. Why can’t you try?”

“I do not know how.”

“That’s a lie.”

“What do you want me to say?” Your voice cuts like glass, tears of sadness transforming into tears of frustration.

“I want you to tell me the truth!”

“I am! I have no idea what any of this means!” Your back up and pacing, hands nearly ripping your hair out in an attempt to ground yourself. “I thought you were dead Wonwoo. I thought my father killed you! And for a moment it felt like I died too.”

“And you don’t think that means something?”

“My apologies that I’m not able to write sonnets about feelings I don’t understand!” 

“You refuse to even try. I nearly died and you can’t even stand to be in the same room as me!”

“Because it’s my fault! I decided to leave the palace! I decided to pull you into my mess! How can you even look at me?”

“Because I love you.” His eyes burn. “For years, I’ve loved you and I tried not to but—” Wonwoo swallows roughly. “It’s become something I live with.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Because telling you served what purpose? You had one of the crew tortured and tossed overboard because he guessed we rolled around in some hay when we were children. Didn’t inspire confidence you’d be receptive to the idea!”

“So you decided for me?”

“Impossible as it might be, please attempt to consider how I felt.”

“And now I’m selfish? You decide to keep secrets and it’s somehow my fault?”

“Then it's my fault for not being brave enough to face your rejection?”

“I wouldn’t—. I haven’t rejected you.” You blink. “It’s terrifying. Want you the way I do. I can’t think, I couldn’t breathe until you woke up. What happens to me if I let myself have you, and you disappear?”

“I would nev—“

“What if someone comes for you again and this time they do kill you? When I saw your face at the palace, I felt…” Another hot wave of tears emerges. “I couldn’t do anything. All I saw was you. I begged my father to kill me so I wouldn’t have to live without you.”

Silence.

“Did it feel like no matter how many breaths you took there wasn’t enough air? Like you were drowning on dry land?”

“Yes—“

“Like the sun fell out of the sky and the tides stopped? Because that’s how I felt. When Jeonghan took you. My body was here but my soul was with you.”

Of course the one person who understands you is Wonwoo. He sees and he knows. And for all his claims that words aren’t his strength, he gives you courage.

“I wasn’t raised to understand this. My mother told me the most I could hope for with a man was friendship, maybe fondness. Love isn’t a privilege I’d learned to understand.”

A pregnant pause passes. 

“Then we learn together.”

Sitting back on the cot, you allow the warmth of Wonwoo’s calloused palm resting on the knobs of your spine to calm you. Sniffling pathetically, you listen to his heart drum in his chest. It reminds you all the times you pressed against him for warmth when you first ran away. The beat of his heart lulling you to rest better than any lullaby your nanny sang in the nursery. 

Wonwoo breaks the delicate silence shrouding his room.

“A liar and a coward. What a pair we make.” He chuckles, humor in the irony.

Releasing your own puff of air, you hesitate before asking.

“What do we do about it?” 

“About what?”

“These… feelings.”

“I don’t know.”

From all the stories you read as a child, confessions of love and wanting meant joy and happiness. But in its stead is something like sorrow, a firm pain of a crossroads without a clue where either path led. 

“Wonwoo?”

He hums.

“What do you want to do about it?”

Wonwoo is silent as he ponders. 

“Right now, I want to hold you.”

Moments pass as you trace shapes along his chest, careful to avoid the bandages crossing over his shoulder. The pressure of his lips against the crown of your skull turns your head up. 

Wonwoo’s face is soft, staring at you with undeserved fondness. The same way he did that night in the barn, the same way he has always done in private when he thinks you aren’t looking. If Wonwoo is brave enough to tell you, then you owe him the same.

Tracing his features with your fingers, you carefully avoid the wounds still dappling his face. Starting at the temple where his scar begins, you follow it to the plush of his lips, the skin chap under your touch. Before following the loop of his nose and the curve of his brow. 

“I love you.”

Your whispered admission floats in the air above your heads. 

Wonwoo shuts his eyes and lets you do as you please, leaving a gentle kiss to the pad of your pointer finger as it returns to his mouth. 

The smooth slide leaves you craving the contact across your own mouth. Rising up, you gently brush your lips across his. Barely a ghost of flesh but Wonwoo chases the contact. Lips slip against one another, soft passes filled with tender longing. 

One the next stroke, you suck his lower lip between your teeth and allow the tip of your tongue to trace it. You faintly register the copper taste of blood and the salt of the sea. The drag must ignite something in his blood because Wonwoo attempts to twist you underneath him before he yelps in pain.

“Stop! You’ll tear your stitches!”

“Damn the stitches,” he grits, claiming your mouth again.

Carefully maneuvering out of his reach, you break the kiss as you rise from his cot. A genuine smile of joy returning to your face after years of drought.

“When you’re better,” you whisper. 

“You’d have us wait?”

“I’d rather have you when your face no longer resembles the wrong side of a horse.”

He fails to make a grab for your sleeve, huffing as he rests back into the mattress. “I thought I charmed you with more than my looks.”

“Unfortunately, I’m quite shallow.”

“There should be an old scarf in my desk drawer, perhaps that can be of use?”

“Woo,” you gently coo. “You can’t even sit up straight.” 

“I believe that’s a matter of opinion.”

You chuckle. “When you’re well enough, I’ll lock us in here for as long as you wish.”

The simmering displeasure is clear on his face. Wonwoo isn’t angry with you. He’s angry with his injuries. With Jeonghan and your dead father. With the fates.

“As long as I wish?”

Humming in agreement as you rest one knee onto the bed, you lean over his form before whispering. 

“You should try and listen to Shua so I don’t have to wait much longer.”

“Fine.”

“It’s a deal.”

Three months. 

Three months of silently mourning the death of your father in the dead of night, when you’re safe from prying eyes and your mind wanders free. You hardly knew him, he was as much of a stranger as a merchant you stumbled passed in a busy market. Guilt whispered across your mind as each tear slipped down your face. Mourning the man who terrorized a nation and his family, who paid for your execution, who tortured Wonwoo. 

Three months of Wonwoo downing every greasy concoction and bitter remedy Shua prescribes. One month for the bruises to yellow and fade into memory, for his cuts to scab and scar. Two months for his shoulder to cease its insistent throb. Two months of keeping his body firmly planted in his cot until he’s cleared to rise with the assistance of a mahogany cane courtesy of Jihoon. Another month of hobbling along the deck, relearning his center of gravity under the threat of toppling into the sea.

Ninety two days of heated gazes and longing brushes of hands in passing, conversations littered with double entendres verging on obscenity. More whispered confessions and declarations. Twenty four nights of you visiting his room under the cover of the moon, sitting by his side, clasping his hand while he slept fitfully, administering more oily sedative when the nightmares chase him awake and one night he pulls you down beside him. Then seventy two mornings blinking wake, curled against one another under the thin sheets like you had all those years ago, whispering promises in the gentle dawn.

The first night Wonwoo shuffles across the deck without the assistance of the familiar piece of wood, you nearly take him against the main mast. Instead, you settle for pulling him to your cabin as the oil lantern begins to burn low, when the eyelids of the crew droop from exhaustion and their heads turn away in consideration.

A choked groan leaves your throat as his hips settle between your thighs, molding together so tightly there’s no deciphering where you end and Wonwoo begins. Mouths refuse to separate as you roll against one another, a cacophony of breathless whimpers and husky moans blending between lips.

Your bodies burn with the inferno of a pyre, every hair stands on edge like lightning is about to strike a hair width away. There’s no air to breath, but the space you’ve descended into thankfully requires none. Only you and Wonwoo exist, not time or the sea or the stars.

“Say it again,” he whispers into your mouth.

“I love you!” You gasp back, eager to seal the words with another suck of his tongue.

Calloused hands palm your chest, breasts heavy and full, nipples growing to stiff peaks as deft fingers brush and pluck. Wonwoo laps at the smooth dip between before latching onto one, nipping and sucking as you writhe in the sheets, thrashing wildly against him. Your own hands make busy twisting and pulling his hair, nails scraping against the dip of his neck and across his broad shoulders.

“Again.” Wonwoo bites into your skin, punctuated with another harsh curl of his hips into yours, so deep he’s in your lungs.

Sobbing your reply, eyes closing as your forehead presses to his, you nearly choke on air as he drives into you again and again.

“I love you.” 

“Again.” He pants desperately.

“Wonu!” You keen, back of your head pressing into the pillows as your chest collapses from his precarious rhythm. Streams of light rupture across your vision, tension swelling in your veins and ripping you apart.

“Love you, I love you,” He mutters like a prayer into the crease of your shoulder, face buried in your neck as he snatches your wrist, twining your fingers with his next to your head, grip so tight nails sting into the back of each other's hand.

Another prayer of his name rips from your throat, cannoning Wonwoo into a frenzy. He pummels into you with such force the crown of your skull knocks into the headboard. His hips stutter as he finds his release, filling you with his seed as he cries your own name into your lips.

Stuttered breaths settle for a moment.

“Again, Woo.”

He eagerly follows your orders, just as he’s always done.

Epilogue

Once upon a time, an unlikely friendship between a princess and a stable boy bloomed in the gardens of a king’s palace. The stable boy followed the princess wherever she decided to go, and the princess knew that if she ever needed to turn back, the stable boy would welcome her with open arms. Even when age led her to the other side of this life like an old friend, the stable boy couldn’t help but follow. Though he was eager to return to her side once more, the princess had remained behind to welcome him with a smile when he walked over the hill.

Some say that when the moon dips below the horizon of the sea each day, it's the princess returning to the warmth of her lover's embrace. Always destined to find one another in each life, never to be kept apart, no matter what came between.

#svthub #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt wonwoo #svt jeonghan #svt angst #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo angst #seventeen angst #svt #wonwoo smut #🫡 highvern

[catskets]

A more in-depth guide for creating visual novels, especially in the horror, horror-romance, etc circles

Some of you have seen my previous, smaller post on crafting visual novels, especially in this little space of Tumblr that a lot of us have found themselves in. Since that post took off, I've wanted to create a longer guide to help touch on some points I've thought about for the past few months.

In case you've never heard of me, I'm Kat, also known as catsket. I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Game Design. I've been making games for nearly 5 years, and I've been doing visual novels more "professionally" for 2. You may know me for Art Without Blood, 10:16, God is in the Radio, or Fatal Focus. I'm here to help you make your first visual novel.

Please note that my advice does not fit everyone, and you may disagree with what I say. That's okay! It doesn't work for all. That's why there's thousands of resources out there.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE NEVER MADE A GAME

So, you have an idea for a huge visual novel. Horror, a shady and obsessive love interest, a little bit of woo-hooing. 100k words. Maybe a million. What is this, the 07th Expansion?

I notice a lot of people getting into visual novels are artists first. That's okay! I wanted to do art for games before I realized how much I enjoyed writing. And even less of you have probably touched Visual Studio. Again, perfectly okay. We all start somewhere.

My number one piece of advice? Make shitty games.

What does that mean?! My recommendation to those who have never done games is to make a bunch of shitty ones. Think of a theme, or hell, even join a game jam, where you make a game that fits a theme in a short amount of time. Spend about a week on your game. Focus on making something polished. Polish your mechanics. Polish your output.

I recommend, if you can, to make at least 4-6, if not more, kind of shitty games before hopping into longer projects. Making a game is a skill, just like art, just like writing. And game development is combining ALL of these together into one big soup being stirred by a skeleton hand puppet. You'll get into the rhythm and see what works for you.

It also helps you learn, perhaps, the second most important thing here: do you even like making games? There are cases out there where people have created video games (not saying visual novels) just for clout. That's no fun for you, that's no fun for your players. And you might go through this process and find that you don't like making games. That's completely okay! It's not for everyone.

Also, you can use these shittier games to gather an audience. I've built my audience because, for the past few years, I've been releasing games that slowly give me growing fields of eyes every day. A success story overnight is a rare one. It takes time. It's like building a brand, but you aren't a brand, you're an artist.

REV UP YOUR ENGINES!

Ren'py is the number one engine you will be recommended. It is very beginner-friendly, with lots of tutorials, assets on itch.io to use and download, and support. The engine comes with a few tutorials in the form of games, whose code you can freely browse. This is the engine I use most often. Most visual novels you see are made in this engine.

Twine is a text-based engine that most people use for interactive fiction. You can add images and audio, though, if you don't mind messing with HTML. I use Twine for text games and for outlining for my larger games. Ever played Degrees of Lewdity? Yeah, I know you have. Don't ask why. That game was made in Twine.

RPG Maker has multiple versions and has been used for exclusively VNs if you don't mind fucking around with plugins. It can definitely give your game a super unique feel. I recommend RPG Maker MV, since it has the most resources. This line of engines usually costs money, but it often goes on sale for under $5-$15.

People will recommend TyranoBuilder, but as a user and player, the lack of options and the format the games often come in is just...not fun to navigate. It advertises itself as little to no code, but it's often evident in the final results. Some good games have been made in it, though, so if you want to use it for prototyping/practice, you can. I'm not a fan, but that doesn't mean that fans don't exist! This engine costs money.

Not an engine, but check out Ink! Super useful scripting language that's used for more professional projects.

DEMOS, DEMOS, DEMOS

You've got an idea for a long-term project, and now you want to show it to the world! But wait, wait, don't do that yet!

When should I start advertising my game? This is a personal opinion, but I say that you should not start advertising your game until 50-60% of your demo is complete. Why? As I've discussed with some fans of indie VNs, they can name quite a few projects that have been in the "working on the demo" age for 1-2+ years. I've been in the Kickstarter MMO circles. If you, making a single-player experience with little mechanics to balance and polish (aka a visual novel), are taking that long on a demo, I am going to assume the game is not coming out. There are some games I have seen out here that have been in "working on the demo" phase where I haven't seen a single ounce of what the project will look like.

What should I put in my demo? The purpose of a demo is to showcase the mechanics and the vibes and the mechanics of your game. It's a demonstration. In my last post, I pointed to the Dead Space 2 demo that was showcased at E3 (RIP), that takes place about 2 hours into the story and shows how enemies are defeated, some animations, bits of the story, etc. Usually, because it's less about mechanics and more about vibes, visual novel demos showcase a certain percentage of the full thing (5-10%.) Can you showcase the vibe of the game here and what players should expect? If not, show off another portion.

How long should I work on my demo? Before, I said 3-4 months. That can be true, that can also not be true. Think about how long the demo takes you in proportion to how long the actual game should take you. Don't put too much effort. The demo is to showcase the vibe. It's to see how much the public and fans may enjoy the game.

My game is 18+, what should I do? Make a splash screen when the game is downloaded to let players know your game is 18+. If it's going to contain sexual content, you can hide it with itch.io's adult content filter. Write it on the page itself that your game is for adults only. Don't put your demo behind a paywall. This is genuinely ridiculous. The purpose of a demo is to showcase what a game is like before a player purchases it. That defeats the point of a demo. I've seen this happen, and it discourages players from approaching, especially because most demos never make it past the demo phase. So...I'm paying you $10 for 2-3k words of a game that may never come out?

Should I make a social media for my game? YES! Go for it. These anchors are how people will find your game. Make a Tumblr and open that ask box. Make a Twitter. Go to BluSky. Advertising is not bad. Some YouTubers even take e-mail suggestions from developers. Feel free to shoot your shot. The worst they can do is not respond.

HOW TO SET UP YOUR ITCH.IO PAGE:

Getting your itch.io to a presentable state can be very challenging! There's many ways to do it. I highly recommend using this page image guide for learning how to size your images to make your page pop!

Itch.io themselves has suggested to not publish a page until the game or demo is released. You can make the page and keep it as a draft, but do not publish it until you're ready!

Your cover image is the image that will appear in the search of the website, on any front pages, in collections, and on your profile. What have I seen that works? Key art of one of the characters up close and the title of the game! If you can make it a .GIF, do it! Bitches love .GIFs!

Itch.io recommends 3-5 screenshots on your page. I recommend 1 of these 5 be a .GIF that shows how gameplay feels. This is effective, even for visual novels!

Write a 3-5 sentence summary about your game for the description. What is your story about? What is the draw?

DO NOT BE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO IS GOING TO SAY "This is not like other visual novels. It doesn't have that cheesy this or that or-" No one cares. Genuinely. You're putting down other games in your genre and elevating yourself to the pompous level.

TAG YOUR GAME! itch.io gives you a list of tags to choose from when you go to tag. DON'T USE THIS! Try to go for more specific tags. Arimia has a very good guide on how to use itch.io's tagging system to your advantage.

GENERAL GAME MAKING ADVICE

SCOPE KNIFE IS SUPER USEFUL! Everyone makes games that are way over their workload. It's okay to cut out features and add them later. Prioritize making a finished game before hitting those stretch goals.

PLAN, PLAN, PLAN! Writing outlines is super helpful. I use Twine for my outlines, because you can connect your passages together and make really well-thought webs.

IT'S OKAY TO ASK FOR HELP! Whether it's from friends, professionals, or anything in-between. They can help with assets, editing, etc.

HONE YOUR SKILLS OUTSIDE OF GAMES! Write some poetry. Do some sketches everyday. Improve on your craft to improve your games

MUSIC IS HARD. THERE ARE RESOURCES. Most of us aren't musicians. That's okay. Make sure the music you get for your game is allowed to be used. You can use anything non-commercial if your game will not cost money or donations. I try to do songs in the public domain or free to use overall with credit if I don't have a musician. Consult the Creative Commons website if you're unsure how you're supposed to use a certain piece of music. If you don't use the right stuff, not only can it put you in legal trouble, but it can put streamers in hot water if they play your game and they can't upload the video because music is copyrighted.

PLEASE, DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR UI. Wanna know an easy way to get your game to look more professional? Edit the damn UI for your game. Make a new textbox, even if it's just a black box. Change the font. Eventually, players recognize the defaults and patterns of games made in certain engines and may attribute a lack of UI changes to a developer being lazy. It doesn't take very long to change the colors around and move text! Please do it to add a little pop to your game.

DEADLINES ARE AWESOME. Not everyone works well under pressure, but if you give yourself an infinite amount of time to make something, it'll never get done. Set goals for yourself for how much you can work on something.

IF YOU HAVE TO GIVE UP, GIVE UP. Making things is hard, especially long-term. Emergencies happen, jobs happen, life happens. Let your fans know that a project isn't happening anymore. Don't leave them in the dark. You don't need to tell strangers your medical history or anything, but transparency + honesty are really hot traits. You should use those in your creative work. This is one reason why I advocate for not publishing or advertising things until you know it's stable.

SHOWCASING YOUR CONTENT

People love to see WIPs for games! This is what the devlog is good for! A devlog is a post where a developer talks about and showcases some things happening in the game? What can you add to your dev log?

PERCENTAGES! How much of the artwork is done? How much of this character's route is done?

SNEAK PEEKS AT ARTWORK AND SPRITES!

GIFS! GIRLS LOVE GIFS!

Anything else to showcase your game's content! Posting consistent updates retains and even gains a fan's attention for your work.

RUNNING YOUR TUMBLR

You've joined us, and you've made a Tumblr for your blog! Link it on the itch.io page, so people can come find you after playing your awesome demo!

Do I have to respond to every ask? No. It's your blog. Delete whatever asks you want.

I got a hate comment! What do I do? Delete it and move on. I have a more detailed section on hate below.

I want to interact with [blog]! How do I do that? Reach out to the devs for silly little collabs. If you come onto a developer slightly headstrong, they might feel you are being abrasive or using them for content.

If people make fan content, interact with it! Encourage it! Reblog it. Show your love.

OTHER IMPORTANT THINGS

PROFESSIONALISM IS KEY. These may be pet projects, but you want to appear some level of professional on your actual itch.io page.

Being dismissive of player and fan complaints or criticisms will make you appear childish.

If your game is broken, fix it. I have been told by some amateur developers to ignore game-breaking bugs. It does not make me, a player, want to engage with your content. It seems messy and unfinished.

With the above point, it's 100% okay to have bugs and errors upon release. Every developer and their brood mother has. To decrease these issues, get playtesters. Friends can play your games, spot any errors, and help you point out things that can be improved upon. I recommend having playtesters at every stage of development.

Make sure your game runs before you publish it. Please.

You can still be silly and giddy! There's no reason to not be, especially when you get positive comments! The point of this is to not be outright rude to potential players and fans.

IGNORE HATE COMMENTS. In this case, a hate comment is a statement that contains no constructive criticism and are only here to be insulting or malicious. People are going to leave you with actual piles of dog shit in your ask box. They are trying to provoke you. Giving hate comments any attention, even if you're there to "clap back" proves that they got to you, even if you don't take the hate to heart. They will continue to pester you. Delete any hate comments and ignore them completely. Laugh about them with friends in a private setting, sure.

THINK BEFORE YOU REFERENCE! I know one big thing in this community is adding references to other games in yours, such as plushies of other characters or putting them on posters. The best thing you can do it ask the developer before adding this. How would you feel if some random person you've never met put your character in a video game? Most of us would feel weird and potentially violated. Open communication with devs is awesome. I am usually okay with it as long as someone asks for permission.

As a complete aside, I prefer more tasteful references to other games as opposed to 523482346 plushies and posters. These have been slightly overdone. Why not theme a candy after another game's character? Maybe your characters know each other.

OTHER RESOURCES I RECOMMEND

Devtalk is a server dedicated to independent visual novel creators. You can find jobs, resources, advice, talks, and, like, everything there! Devtalk is super useful. Everyone in there is so cool. They have a really great and comprehensive list of resources that I could not even begin to cover.

Visual Novel Design is a great YouTuber. No other words, check the guy out!

Ren'py and whatever other engine you're using has documentation that's super useful to follow.

Arimia not only has amazing VN resources, especially for marketing, but she also just has? Amazing games that you should check out?

And for a shameless self plug, I'm the lead of Sacred Veins, a collective of devs creating narrative games, whether it be horror, humor, romance, or everything in-between. Come hang out with us!

#visual novels #game development

[prettyfastcars]

thunderstorms | Lewis x Reader

Summary: Your mom and his dad have been in a serious relationship for a little while, but you do everything to avoid interacting with Lewis. He’s everything you’ll never be. How could you compete with that amount of fame, glory, power and multiple world championships. So you kept your distance in order to avoid hearing your mom praise him endlessly, but that was until a mandatory family vacation. Living in the same house, under the same roof, you couldn’t avoid him anymore. Neither could either of you avoid the tension in between you. 

Themes: smut, stepbrother!lewis, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), forbidden/taboo romance

The thunder sounded like it shook the entire cabin. 

You froze on the wooden stairs, holding on to the handrail for dear life. You liked to think that you were a brave human. But thunderstorms scared the hell out of you. Especially right now given you and your ‘family’ were in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. 

You could’ve been on a nice beach, soaking the warmth of the sun, swimming in the ocean, drinking all day, going on boat rides. But no, the golden son – your soon to be step brother – decided to take the family to a cabin, in the mountains where it is cold, humid and dark all the time. Where it rains incessantly. 

He wanted to hike. And naturally his dad and your mom agreed. And naturally your opinion didn’t matter. Sometimes you thought, all of you didn’t matter whenever he was concerned. After all, you were nowhere near as accomplished as he was. 

He had it all. He was loved by millions, admired, worshipped. People loved him, everyone wanted to be his friend, everyone wanted to be seen with him. 

All you had was a boutique in Paris, that too it was gifted to you by one of your mom’s many ex husbands. It was your entire life now. But no matter how luxurious, elegant, sleek and modern a Parisian boutique is, it cannot compare to multiple motorsport world championships. 

Hence, your suggestion of going on vacation somewhere warm was immediately ignored. As expected. And here you were now, still holding on to the handrail.

You finally let go of it, and wrapped your blanket tighter around you. You were on your way downstairs in search of something warm to drink. This whole cabin was freezing despite the multiple heaters. 

“Damn him,” You whispered under your breath as you walked into the open kitchen, turning just one light on and leaving the rest of the kitchen in darkness. “Could be on a beach partying right now,” You muttered bitterly like an old woman as you gathered your things to make your hot chocolate. “But no,” You hissed as you put the kettle on. “His Majesty wanted to be in this damn forest,” You grabbed your mug and put your cocoa powder in, “We could be killed in here,” You kept muttering as you waited for the water to boil. “God knows what’s in these woods, wild life, serial killers,” You scoffed. “As if he doesn’t get enough adrenaline–,” 

A smooth voice spoke up from one of the dark corners of the kitchen, “Still cursing my name I see?” 

You gasped, turning around to face the dark corner immediately. There he was, the light from his phone allowing you to look at his ridiculously handsome face, and his ridiculously handsome smirk. His braids were out of his usual ponytail. It angered you almost that he looked even better this way. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but ended up squealing instead as the loudest thunder ever shook the entire cabin once again. 

You crouched in place, holding onto the kitchen counter. Meanwhile Lewis broke into chuckles, laughing at you right in your face. 

“You are seriously scared of thunderstorms?” He laughed some more. 

You frowned at him, your bravery coming out of hiding now the thunder had passed. “Oh shut up. Of all places you had to bring us here?” You shook your head and turned around to carry on making your hot chocolate. 

You heard the chair screech as Lewis stood up from the small table, you heard him walk over to where you stood. Your body became hyper aware of each one of his moves. 

The way he placed both of his hands on the counter, on either side of you, caging you in. 

The way his torso pressed gently against your back. 

The way he subtly nuzzled your neck from behind. 

You froze. Lewis’ lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Is that why you’re down here so late at night? Hmm?” He teased, “You needed your big brother to keep you safe from the thunderstorm?” 

“You’re not my fucking brother.” You gasped in surprise when you felt him purposely drag his lips up your neck. “Lewis…” You whispered, “What are you doing?” Your voice ended up sounding a lot more like a quiet moan. 

You’d be lying if you said this was the first time the two of you were crossing lines which you knew you shouldn’t. The man was drop dead gorgeous, it was hard to resist him. 

“What?” He acted oblivious even as he left soft, open mouth kisses all over your neck and slightly exposed shoulder. “I’m just helping you make hot chocolate before the water gets cold.” He said as one of his tattooed hands wrapped around your waist while the other grabbed the kettle and poured hot water into your mug. 

The warm drink was the last thing on your mind as Lewis kept kissing up and down your neck. “Lewis…” You murmured again, “We shouldn’t.” 

He didn’t stop. You didn’t want him to stop. He knew that. 

He let go of you momentarily and gave you enough space to turn around and face him. Fuck, that was a mistake. In the dim, partially lit kitchen he looked too tempting. Big brown eyes, how could you resist those? 

The blanket you had around yourself fell to the ground. Now you were left in tiny shorts and an almost see-through pj top. Lewis’ eyes roamed your body shamelessly. Your face burned when you admitted to yourself that you liked it. 

“Look at you,” He murmured, as he placed his hand on your waist again. His other hand came up to grab your chin. He leaned in slightly, his scent acting like an aphrodisiac. “What am I supposed to do when you’re walking around half naked, little sis?” He accused in that dreamy voice. “Am I supposed to keep my hands to myself while you walk around looking like this?” 

You couldn’t look away from his rich, dark brown eyes. Bottomless, warm, inviting. His eyes had an intensity that was hard to ignore. 

You were aware of how his thumb drew lazy circles on your hip. You felt weak in your knees. Lewis just smirked. “You better stop looking at me with those fuck-me eyes if you don’t want me to bend you over this counter right here right now.” He whispered, leaning in even closer to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

You were dragged back to reality once you broke eye contact. So you cleared your throat and pulled away from his embrace. The air felt immediately colder as you pulled away from him. 

Lewis picked up your blanket and wrapped it around you again. You muttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you clutched the blanket under your chin, securely as if it would keep you safe from him. Then he handed you your mug and said, “Wanna watch a movie?” 

You should’ve just gone to bed. You should’ve said no. 

Seeing you were contemplating, Lewis added, “Unless of course you want to go upstairs and be all by yourself.” 

Right then, another loud thunder echoed throughout the entire place. And your decision was made. 

So you found yourself in the living area, on the same couch as Lewis while some horror movie played on TV. And with each loud boom from the sky, you scooted closer and closer to him. He chuckled each time you jumped due to the thunder, but he made no further comments. 

After a while, and some more scooting he said, “Just come here, will you?” He patted the spot next to him and opened his arms. 

Maybe it was the thunder. Or the fact that he looked so nice, warm and comfy in his sweatpants and sweater. Or maybe it was that you were subconsciously dying to be in his arms. Whatever the case, you slid right up to him and let him wrap his arms around you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“There, see,” He said, “Isn’t it nice to let big brother take care of you?” He teased. 

You scoffed, but remained in his arms. “You’re not my brother. I hate you and your big ass forehead.” 

Lewis laughed. You smiled too, but hid it quickly. 

“Can I have some of your hot chocolate?” He asked after a few silent seconds. 

“I drank it all.” You said. 

“Shame,” He murmured, “I really wanted a taste of it.” He sounded almost seductive as he said it. 

There. 

You could feel the shift in the air just then. That line, you were gonna cross it again. 

You pulled away and looked right into his soft brown eyes. “Lewis…” You whispered. 

“Come here, baby,” He whispered, cupping your face and leaning in for a kiss. 

You melted instantly, kissing his warm and soft lips back immediately. You didn’t even hesitate before making your way to his lap, straddling him without breaking the kiss. You felt him smirk into the kiss, you did too. 

Too late to turn back now, that’s what the smirks meant. 

You only pulled away to take a breath, looking into his eyes to find him just as breathless as you. Neither one of you said anything. Not even when you whimpered as you felt his erection through the layers of clothing separating your bodies. 

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered. His hands touching you wherever he could. Sliding across your now exposed thighs, up and down your sides and fingers caressing your skin, dangerously close to where you ached for him. 

You didn’t say anything, but Lewis looked down and found your eager fingers toying with the waistband of his sweatpants. He smirked when he saw that, and looked up at you with a cocky look in his eyes. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked, sounding just as cocky as he looked. 

You nodded, heart racing at the thought of what you were about to do. But it was too late to turn back now. You held his heated stare as you lowered his sweatpants and wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking his cock, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. 

You leaned in close to him again, “I want you,” you whispered against his lips and then pressed your mouth to his. He kissed you back immediately. “I want you inside of me.” You said, urgently and breathlessly. 

You slipped your tongue past his lips and slowly stroked the top of his mouth. He groaned into your mouth, and you immediately bucked your hips against his, your clothed core rubbing against his cock and he grunted. 

His hands rubbed up and down your sides, fingers sliding under your thin top until he could toy with your nipples. 

“Take me,” He whispered against your mouth. 

You pulled away from the kiss briefly, quickly removing your shorts before you lowered yourself down on his cock, earning quiet moans and groans out of both of you as you sank down on him. 

Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside. Your face felt hot at the thought of him being too big to fit inside your wet cunt. Lewis felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his gorgeous face. 

His voice was cocky and laced with lust as he spoke, “I bet you’re regretting wasting all that time on your little French boys now, huh?” 

You scoffed, deciding to mess with him. “Oh, trust me. They’re not little.” 

His brain short circuited. For a moment he loathed every man who ever touched you like this. 

Lewis glared at you for a moment, before he grabbed you by the hips thrust up into you. You gasped in surprise as you felt him fill you up. He was nice and snug inside you as he whispered, his voice filled with promises, “I’m gonna ruin every single man for you.” 

Your lust-drunk brain was barely able to process his words. All you knew was that you wanted more. His cock throbbed against your pulsating walls, causing the tiniest bit of friction which drove you both insane. It felt like he was splitting you in half.

“Ah,” You whimpered, “Lewis, please…” 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you up and then back down on his cock. You whimpered as he groaned when the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. 

“Does big brother’s cock feel good? Huh?” He taunted before leaning forward to wrap his lips around one of your clothed nipples. He gave it a hard enough suck to make you moan, then moved on to the other one. 

Fuck. This was so wrong. 

The forbidden nature of it gave you a warm rush. You just whimpered and nodded as you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. 

You felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. 

When he noticed that you were comfortable with the pace, he let go of your hip and wrapped his hand around your throat instead. “You look so good like this, little sis.” He teased. “Taking my cock like you’re made for it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his plump, soft bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time. Lewis pulled your warm body closer to his as you bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his dark eyes. 

Lewis rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock, throwing his head back and moaning. 

“Shh,” You whispered as you kissed along his bearded cheek, barely able to keep from moaning yourself. 

He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You feel so good,” He whispered.

“Damn you…” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. 

You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath. 

Lewis came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him. “Fuck…” He swore before saying, “I think I like thunderstorms even more now.”

You still sounded breathless as you said, "I still hate you."

---

here's part two if you want

#f1 #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lh44

[natashascars]

Jealousy, Regret, Reconciliation

Pairing: Regina Mills x fem!reader

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 2k

Summary: In the midst of a lively evening at Granny’s Diner, Regina Mills becomes increasingly agitated by a misinterpreted situation between her secret lover (you) and Ruby, sparking a heated argument. The night brings a storm of emotions, keeping both you and Regina awake, haunted by the recent conflict.

A/N: Heyy, this is my first ever fanfiction and I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. I just wanted to try writing a jealousy fic of Regina because… why not? Also I’m not sure how to tag this because, again, I’m very new to writing fanfiction. Anyways feel free to leave any advice or criticism on how I could improve my writing (please be nice though, because I am sensitive af lmaoo). Oh, and the classic "english isn't my first language" applies to this

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

The atmosphere at Granny's Diner was as vibrant as ever, filled with its customary chatter and laughter. Regina Mills sat in the corner booth, seemingly focused on her drink. Yet, her gaze intermittently drifted towards you, engrossed in what seemed like an innocent conversation with Ruby Lucas, your laughters blending in with the diner’s ambiance.

Despite the celebration for a milestone achieved in Storybrooke, Regina's attention remained elsewhere. She noticed the way Ruby's gaze lingered on you, and a flicker of unease sparked within her. Though typically composed, Regina couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy seeing Ruby direct playful banter at you.

Regina had always been protective, especially of you. The two of you had been friends for years, your bond growing stronger as time passed. Recently, however, your relationship had shifted, blossoming into something deeper and more intimate. You and Regina had been secretly dating for several months now, relishing the clandestine nature of your romance, keeping it hidden from the prying eyes of Storybrooke's inhabitants.

As the evening progressed, Regina found it increasingly challenging to ignore the growing jealousy that had taken root within her. Each playful exchange between you and Ruby fueled the flames of her simmering frustration, her jaw clenching with suppressed emotions.

Inwardly seething, Regina took a deliberate sip of her drink, a facade of composure masking the turmoil raging within her. The cool liquid did little to quell the storm of emotions churning beneath the surface as she maintained a poised exterior, concealing the inner conflict brewing within her.

As Ruby leaned closer to you—a gesture Regina interpreted as flirtatious—her jaw clenched further, the surge of jealousy nearly escalating. Her grip on her drink tightened, the glass threatening to shatter under the pressure of her clenched fingers. She had to look away, fearing that her emotions would betray her in front of everyone.

Ruby's laughter crescendoed, a sound that grated against Regina's frayed nerves. Each interaction between you and Ruby felt like a dagger twisting in her chest. Regina's mind raced with irrational thoughts and deep-buried fears. The ache in her chest had morphed into simmering anger, a blend of jealousy and frustration.

Eventually, the tension proved too much to bear. Regina abruptly rose from her seat, the sharp clicks of her stilettos echoing across the wooden floor of the diner, drawing your attention. Your eyes met hers, capturing a glimpse of something raw and untamed within Regina’s usually composed expression before she stormed out of the diner, her sole focus on escaping the suffocating atmosphere.

You watched her leave, a furrow forming on your brow, a mixture of confusion and concern evident. Sensing the tension that had soured the once cheerful atmosphere, you quickly excused yourself from Ruby's company.

Outside the diner, the cool night air failed to offer any relief as Regina briskly walked down the sidewalk, the echo of her heels punctuating the silent night with each determined step. The weight of unresolved emotions hung heavy in the air, evident in her gait and tense posture.

“Regina!” you called out, your voice cutting through the stillness of the night. Regina hesitated for a moment, the rhythmic click of her heels faltering before she continued walking, determined to distance herself from the scene that had stirred up a storm of emotions in her.

Desperate to bridge the growing distance between you, you quickened your pace, the echo of your own heels resonating as you tried to catch up to her. “Regina, please!” you called out again, the urgency evident in your voice.

Regina slowed down, hesitating for a fleeting moment before reluctantly turning to face you. Despite the distance, the streetlights illuminated the conflict etched on her features, a blend of hurt and frustration.

As you finally caught up to her, you were slightly taken aback by the look on her face. "What's wrong?" you questioned, worry lacing your voice.

"What's wrong?" Regina scoffed, her eyes flashing with suppressed frustration. "Can you not see it? How you entertain every flirtatious remark from Ruby as if it's some kind of game?"

Your brows furrowed into a puzzled expression. "Regina, Ruby and I are just friends." you defended, a hint of frustration creeping into your tone.

Regina's facade cracked, her voice rising with pent-up emotions. "Friends? Can't you see how she looks at you? How you laugh at her jokes and bask in her attention?

"I don't know what you're talking about," you retorted, a surge of defensiveness colouring your voice. "Ruby is just a friend, and you know that."

"Don't play ignorant!" Regina's words cut through the air like a knife. "I saw the way Ruby practically threw herself at you, and you seemed all too eager to indulge her!"

Confusion swept over you. "Indulge her? Ruby was just being friendly!"

"You don't see it, do you?" Regina's voice wavered between anger and hurt. "I've watched the way she looks at you, and it's not just harmless banter!"

Caught between Regina's piercing gaze and the unexpected accusation, you felt a surge of frustration rise within you. "Regina, it wasn't like that! Ruby and I were just having a conversation—"

"You can't be that naive!" Regina cut in, her frustration boiling over. "She was flirting with you right in front of me!"

You let out a scoff of disbelief. “Are you serious, Regina?” you questioned, eyebrows raising in astonishment. “Are you actually suggesting that? Or are you just fucking jealous?” you shot back, your disbelief now mixed with irritation.

Regina’s eyes widened, her initial frustration giving way to a mix of surprise and indignation. “Jealous?” she snapped back, letting out a breathless chuckle. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just pointing out the obvious.” Her words carried a sharp edge, her frustration still palpable.

“You’re overreacting!" you retorted, anger and hurt evident in your voice. "Sorry I didn't realise I needed your permission to talk to someone!"

The words hung heavily in the air, each sentence fueling the fiery argument. Regina's jaw clenched, her emotions unravelling with each passing second. "This isn't about me. It's about you and your constant need for attention from others!"

Her words cut deep, and you felt a surge of frustration mingled with hurt pride. "Is that what you really think?” you questioned, the words coming out with a mixture of hurt and astonishment.

Regina’s gaze hardened, the tension palpable in the charged air between you. “It’s not about what I think, it’s what I’ve seen.” she retorted sharply, her voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and lingering hurt.

You stared at her, a lump forming in your throat. The air around you seemed to disappear, making you feel suffocated. “After everything—” you paused, struggling to contain the tumultuous emotions threatening to spill over. “Do you not trust me?” you whispered, tears threatening well up in your eyes as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

Before Regina could say anything, you turned away and stormed off, leaving her standing there in the chilly autumn night. Regina watched you disappear behind a corner before she let out a frustrated groan. 

Regina got into her car, slamming the door shut with an echoing thud and driving away. Both of you retreated to your respective homes, leaving the echoes of the heated argument haunting the empty streets of Storybrooke.

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

As the night settled in Storybrooke, both you and Regina sequestered in your separate residents, enveloped in the lingering aftermath of the argument. The thunderstorm raging outside seemed to match the intensity of emotions both you and Regina were experiencing, leaving you both unable to sleep.

Regina sat by the window of her dimly lit bedroom, the occasional lightning illuminating the shadows that danced on the walls. Her mind was a chaotic whirlwind, replaying the argument with you over and over again. Frustration mingled with regret as she pondered her rash actions. She knew her emotions had gotten the better of her, unleashing a torrent of pent-up feelings she had desperately tried to conceal.

Regina continued watching raindrops race down the glass pane, mirroring the tears she had refused to shed. Her thoughts drifted back to the moment she had stormed out of Granny’s Diner, her heart aching with the realisation that she might have irreversibly damaged something precious with her outburst.

Meanwhile, you sat in your own dwelling, the distant thunder echoing the turmoil in your mind. The argument replayed in your thoughts like a broken record. Confusion and frustration gripped you as you pondered the misunderstanding that had spiralled out of control.

Despite your best efforts to push the heated exchange aside, you couldn’t shake off the unease that lingered. Regina’s words cut deep, leaving wounds of misunderstanding and hurt. You hadn't anticipated this level of conflict, especially with someone as close as Regina.

As the night wore on, the storm showed no signs of relenting, as if mirroring the unresolved tension between you and Regina. Each raindrop that splattered against the windowpanes seemed to echo the unspoken words and emotions that lingered between you.

In a sudden surge of determination, Regina couldn’t let things remain this way. She couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling of discord that had settled between you two. Despite the pouring rain outside, Regina made a decision.

Grabbing her coat, Regina dashed out into the storm, the raindrops pelting against her skin. She hurried through the deserted streets of Storybrooke, the only sounds being the rhythmic drumming of the rain and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. Each step towards your house felt heavier than the last, fueled by the urgency to clear the air and mend what felt irreparably broken.

Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by the sharp knock echoing through your home, interrupting the solitary brooding. You hesitated, puzzled by the unexpected visitor in the midst of such a storm. As you approached the door, the knock came again, more urgent this time.

Opening the door, you were taken aback by the sight before you—Regina stood there drenched, rainwater streaming down her face, making her usually impeccable appearance dishevelled.

"Regina, what—?" Your words were cut short as Regina closed the gap between you in an instant, her hands softly cupping your face and her lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

Your initial shock quickly gave way to a surge of warmth as you reciprocated the kiss. Despite the storm raging outside, this moment felt oddly serene—the only thing that mattered was the feeling of her lips against yours.

Regina pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours, a mix of apology and vulnerability reflected in their depths. “I’m so sorry.” she murmured, the words tinged with sincerity. “I didn’t mean for things to escalate earlier. I just...”

Regina’s lips parted, but no words escaped. You reached out, gently brushing a rain-soaked strand of hair from her face. Your gaze held a silent understanding, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tangled emotions that had led to this moment.

“I overreacted.” Regina admitted softly. “I let my insecurities get the better of me. I never meant to hurt you.”

The sincerity in her gaze was undeniable. You could sense the walls she had meticulously built crumbling down, exposing her raw feelings beneath the surface.

You gave her a sympathetic smile before pulling her into a tender embrace. Regina’s arms wrapped around you and her breath hitched slightly as she buried her face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent.

"I didn't mean to upset you either." you whispered into her hair. Regina’s embrace tightened slightly as a silent acknowledgment of your words.

You both lingered in the embrace, finding comfort in the closeness that transcended words. However, as if nature had its own timing, a sudden rumble of thunder echoed through the sky, reverberating around you. Regina instinctively pulled away, her eyes widening slightly in realisation.

You glanced towards the downpour outside, the intensity of the storm painting the world in shades of grey. The reminder brought a faint chuckle from both of you, a brief interjection in the midst of the emotional intensity. 

"Come on, I don’t want you to catch a cold." you said softly, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you pulled her inside your home, away from the rain-soaked night. As Regina stepped over the threshold, you closed the door behind her, shutting out the storm and the chaos of the outside world.

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#regina mills #regina mills x reader #regina mills x female reader #once upon a time #once upon a time fanfiction #regina mills fanfiction #regina mills x you #ouat

[palajae]

it’s just…

PAIRING... skater!niki x skater!reader | GENRE... figure skating! au, romance, angst, fluff, unconditional love? | WC... 0.6k | “it’s just what?”

“congratulations on another wonderful performance and win! you guys have been dominating the couples skate for years now even though you’re still so young, how do you feel?” 

your partner’s arm around you tightens a bit as he stares into the camera, leaning into the mic. the sweat fresh from coming off the ice gleams on his forehead and you stare at his side profile, resisting the urge to wipe a drop running down the side of his cheek. 

still breathing heavily, he manages to sport a bright grin. 

“yeah, well, i think the fans will be happy. we worked really hard, and i hope the performance shows that.” he glances down at you as you smile back up at him. 

“i think we’re both satisfied. i’m proud of y/n too, as always.” 

your smile grows a bit at that.

you and niki had been partners for over six years now, having essentially grown up together. you think you’ve spent more time with niki on the ice than you have at home with your family. 

but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

you respected him immensely, trusted him entirely, and you knew he felt the same. the fans could see it too. 

it showed in every interaction, every performance. you two were naturally close and friendly, so the shipping that came along with it was expected. no one could deny your chemistry. 

after the interview finishes, you and niki finish up with pictures of you with your medals. he even picks you up and spins you around as you laugh, beaming at your expression. 

when you finally get a moment to rest, he ruffles your hair. “good job today. i’m proud of you.” 

you shove his hand away playfully, “you worked hard too. did you want to grab some food before we get back to the hotel? i’m kinda hungry and you know-“

you glance at niki to see him typing away on his phone. you poke his cheek. 

“hm? yeah?” 

you cross your arms and huff as he sheepishly squeezes your side as an apology. 

“i said, did you want to get some food? coach said we don’t have any more schedules, so we should be free…”

niki bites his lip. “sorry, i already have some plans. but i’ll meet you back at the hotel?” 

you frown. since when did he ever not want to spend time with you? 

“alright, see you later.” 

you end up passing out back at the hotel and don’t see niki until the next day for practice. it goes smoothly as usual, but he seems a little off. 

it’s not until your coach calls break when you nudge him, skating in circles around him like an animal surrounding their prey. 

“what’s up with you?”

“what do you mean?

you raise an eyebrow, taking his hands and pulling him along. “you know what i mean, so spill.”

he sighs heavily, “i wanted to wait until we got home, but…”

“but?” 

“I think i’m gonna go out with haerin.” 

you stop. and slowly let go of his hands. 

“oh.”

“it’s nothing serious for now,” he adds hastily, “we’re just getting to know each other.” 

“no, no, of course,” you mumble while collecting your thoughts. 

“it’s just-“

“its just what?” niki perks up almost immediately like he was anticipating your response with a glint in his eyes. 

“nothing.” you smile flatly. “i was just surprised.” 

it certainly seemed out of the blue. it wasn’t that you minded—niki could date whoever he liked. you guys were just professional partners and always had been. 

but why does something feel so wrong? 

a/n ▸ happy happy halloween (if you celebrate it)👻 ☺️to be continued…. hehe the rest are already planned so keep a look out ;)

part 1/4 | next.

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon @flwrshee @who-tf-soddhi

@kflixnet

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki imagines #enhypen niki #establishing my nikiblr dominance lol

[lemonlover1110]

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: After your divorce, you never hear from Satoru again. Until he ruins your date, and confesses that he's been ruining your last couple of dates. You're so mad at him that you get into his car and let him take you back to his apartment.

You're so mad at him that not only do you have sex with him- But you agree to carry his baby and get back together

Warnings: MDNI, Divorce, Second Chance, Smut, Oral Sex (f. and m. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Car Sex, Praising, Breeding Kink (YES again), Gojo is a bit possessive and maybe coo coo, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

The sound of your husband’s stoic voice asking for a divorce still rings through your ears even a year later. It sometimes makes you wonder how things could start off so beautifully and shatter as if for twelve years you two were nothing. One morning Satoru just wasn’t the same man that vowed to spend every breathing moment by your side. 

You accepted without demanding an explanation. The romance wilted, and you didn’t know what to do to revive it. You didn’t want to suggest couple’s counseling or anything of that sort because Satoru sincerely looked finished with the relationship. You dwelled on it while your divorce was happening, and a month after it was finalized. 

With time you came to appreciate life again, even more than you did before. You find yourself happy, smiling at trivial things that you never thought about before. You dress how you want, you eat what you like, you interact with whoever you want without having to worry about your husband not liking it. But sometimes you miss him, and you find yourself upset as you think about how everything came to an abrupt ending.

Moving on isn’t hard though. You’re able to go on dates, and see other people. You have a problem though; no relationship succeeds because you always compare everyone to Satoru. You hate him because he tarnished your view on how a man should be. Satoru was damn near perfect, his only flaw was his jealousy and you didn’t mind that. 

“So… What do you do?” You ask, trying your best to keep conversation alive but it’s hard because he’s not showing any interest. The man that sits across the table clearly doesn’t want anything but sex. It annoys you, but you still give in because you’re bored and have nothing to do. What you like the most about all of this is that there’s no strings attached.

He answers but you don’t understand what he says and you don’t care enough to tell him. He begins to talk about something else, and you nod to pretend that you’re listening. Your eyes wander around for a moment until they land on him. Him of all people.

You shift in your seat and you bring your drink up to your lips, hoping that taking a sip of it will get rid of the lump in your throat. You try to look back at your date, taking your eyes off Satoru. You bite down on your lip as your leg anxiously bounces, worried that Satoru will notice you. So many times you’ve wished that Satoru would see you with another man, but now that he’s actually here, you’re nervous. You wish you could just disappear.

“Hey, honey… What are you doing here?” You hear his caring voice, a tone that he only uses when he’s trying his best to mask his anger. You look at Satoru, taking in every detail about him. His hair is a little longer than usual, making you wonder if he’s letting it grow out like his old friend. You’re not all too focused on his hair though since he’s wearing a tight black shirt that emphasizes his well toned body. “Honey… Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I’m sorry, you’re married?” Your date furrows his eyebrows. The man wouldn’t mind if your husband hadn’t shown up, but he did. You shake your head but Satoru speaks for you, and in this situation, words hold more weight than actions,

“We are married. We have been for around five years… So I hope you’re not doing anything with my wife.” Satoru says, and you don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Not even when your date gets up to leave, leaving his half of the bill unpaid. You don’t care because he was just going to give you momentary pleasure, he’s easily replaceable especially since the night is still young. You’re upset that you’re stuck with the ex-husband that you haven’t heard from in the past year. He sits across from you, his eyes following your date as the pathetic man walks away, “Do you usually go out with losers?”

“I mean, I did get married to you.” You roll your eyes, and he ends up chuckling. You open your purse and get out your wallet to pay for the bill. You feel his eyes on you, which makes you feel as if a spotlight is right on you. “Do you need anything else or?”

“I just want to talk to my favorite girl.” He answers, and you place the money on the table before standing up and walking away. You don’t feel him follow you, and it annoys you. He doesn’t even bother chasing after you when he ruined your date– But then you feel his hand on your arm, and he stops you from taking another step further. “Didn’t you hear that I want to have a conversation with my favorite girl?”

“Your favorite girl? The same one that you stopped loving one morning and decided to leave?” You make it clear that you’re still mad at him. What he did isn’t something that you can just move past. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“You’re mad at me? I’ve been hearing from everyone around me how much of a whore you’ve turned out, and yet you’re mad at me.” He tries his best to not cause a scene so he whispers his words. He’s clearly irritated though. “Every other week I hear from a dumbass that you’re with a new guy, whoring yourself out and–”

“Don’t you ever talk about me like that!” Your hand strikes his cheek, not caring if you’re causing a scene. There’s not too many people out, especially not in the area you’re in. It’s best to just walk away though before you bring attention to yourself. “I can do whatever I want since you left me. I don’t owe you an explanation the same way you never gave me one when you gave up on our marriage.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.” Satoru begins when you start to walk away again. He follows behind you while you walk to your car. He apologizes over and over again, which brings a smirk to your lips. “I just hate how much I miss you. I hate the thought of you with some other guy– Please! Can we talk?”

You come to a stop and you turn to look at him. You cross your arms and squint your eyes as you stare him down, “I’ll give you a minute.”

“I was just scared of losing you and you getting bored of me so– I ended things before you could.” He answers, which makes you click your tongue. “But I’ve had a very weird– Not to mention rough, two weeks and I just… You might leave me someday but I’m willing to take that risk.”

“You’re willing to take that risk? You didn’t even bother looking for me, Satoru, you just bumped into me and decided that ruining my date would be fun.” You point out as he takes a couple of steps toward you. His hand goes to your chin and he tilts up your head. 

“Did you think it was a coincidence? Did you think your last couple of dates just decided that not showing up would be fun?” Satoru questions and your breath hitches. He brings his face down, his lips creeping closer to meet yours. “I can be his replacement for the night, if not getting fucked is what upsets you.”

“I’m not insane enough to fuck you.” You answer even though your legs are giving out, and even though he’s just touching your face, you’re already putty. You look into his eyes for a moment, and you watch his gaze shift from your eyes to your lips. You contradict yourself, your lips moving up to meet his, while your arms wrap around his neck. 

His tongue glides on your bottom lip before it enters your mouth. His tongue presses against yours, and you get lost in the kiss. His hands go to your back and move down your body. Before he can grab your ass, you pull away from the kiss and you tell him, “We’re still in public.”

“I want to show everyone–”

“Do you still own the Porsche 911?” You cut him off and he nods in response. He ends up sighing as he lets go. He grabs your hand and begins to lead you to his car, while you smile. You’re about to commit a bad decision, but you know you’ll have fun while doing it.

He opens the passenger door for you, and you get into the car. He hurries to get into the driver’s side, leaving you no time to regret getting into the car. He turns on the car and begins to drive back to his place, and you stare at him as he focuses on the road. He can’t even look at you for a minute because he’ll pull over and start fucking you on the side of the road.

Your hand goes to his lap and you begin to caress it, a smirk coming to your lips as you see his flustered face. You get an idea, but you aren’t sure how safe it is. Satoru once vowed to always protect you, and you ask him, “Will you protect me if I do something that could possibly cause an accident?”

“What are you–” Satoru begins, a bit confused until your hand goes to his belt and you begin to unbuckle it. You don’t do anything else as you wait for his response and he says, “I wouldn’t crash from that. Knock yourself out.”

You unbutton his pants before pulling them down, along with his boxers. You lick your lips at the sight of his cock. “You’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah… I think so too.” He responds as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around it and slowly stroking it. You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. He can’t help but bite his bottom lip as you press a couple kisses on the tip.

“Don’t think that because I’m doing this, that we’re okay.” You confess. The man furrows his eyebrows. He just wants you to suck him off, nothing else. He doesn’t want to hear it now while he drives. “You know you could’ve just tried to talk to me instead of ruining my dates.”

“Oh baby, but I was just so busy.” He takes one hand off the steering wheel and lifts your head. “Do me a favor and say ahhh.”

Satoru is desperate. He doesn’t want to wait for you to finally decide to stop teasing him. And even after so much time separated, you’re obedient to him. You open your mouth and he quickly pushes it down on his cock.

You gag, taking every inch of him in your mouth. He isn’t going to be merciful. He hears the sound of your gagging, tears are streaming down your face and he knows it. But he loves the sound of your gagging.

Your mouth just feels so nice and warm, and every inch of his cock should get to experience it. You’ll be so messy after this too, and he can’t wait till he sees it. He knows the drool will cover your chin. He wants to see your tears and your glassy eyes. And of course, the cum that will come out of your mouth because it’ll be too much for you to take.

“Such a pretty princess- Taking all of my cock in her pretty little mouth-” Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and begins to bob your head. It sounds so wet and so lewd. Your mouth feels so great too. He’s using you like his doll again, and you hate how turned on you are by it.

You would never let any man treat you the way that Satoru does. He disrespects you and treats you as if you were an item that he could just own, yet you’re so weak for him every time. 

He lifts your head up completely, his cock leaving your mouth. He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, looking at your messy face, as a string of saliva connects his cock and your mouth. He has a smirk on his face, and you hate how happy that makes you. He pushes your head back down. 

“I fucking love how messy you look, baby. We should start doing this again.” He tells you. His moans finally roam into the air. His release is nearing. You love hearing how he’s loving this.

“Fuck– Baby, I need you back in my life.” The man has to pull over so he can properly enjoy this. Once he’s parked, he throws his head back, moaning your name. “Please–”

He groans as he climaxes, his cum hitting the back of your throat. He lifts your head up, and he watches so much of his cum come out of your mouth. His index and middle finger pick up some of the cum that comes out of your mouth, and he shoves them into your mouth. His fingers reach all the way back to your throat, gagging you.

“Sit still while I drive back to my apartment.” He orders and you do as he says. You wait patiently, squeezing your legs as you try to control the heat between your legs. You’re back at his apartment in around five minutes, and he carries you to his bedroom because he can’t wait for you to catch up.

He puts you down on the floor and you both begin to get undressed. When you’re completely naked, your arms wrap around his neck and you begin to kiss him. When he detaches his lips from yours, he kisses down your neck and begins to suck on it. He sucks on a peculiar spot that makes you moan. He begins to kiss down again, until he’s met with your breasts and his tongue begins to circle around your nipples.

His lip attaches to one, and he begins to suck. His fingers begin to play with your other nipple. He gives equal love to both your breasts, moving his lips to attach to your other nipple. When he gets bored and pulls away, you push him away with a smile on your lips.

You sit down on his bed and begin to rub your clit. He loves the sight, but you can’t read his expression. He’s so focused on you as you slowly play with yourself . Your fingers stop and two fingers press against his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, and you shove your fingers in. He rolls his tongue around them, his eyes looking at you practically begging for some sort of praise.

But he’s done nothing so you don’t praise him. You take your fingers out and run those same fingers down your folds. You tease yourself a bit before you insert those two fingers into your cunt. His eyes glue themselves on your cunt and the way your fingers fuck your cunt. He hears the little noises of pleasure that escape your lips, and he thinks about how much he’s missed. He’s dreamt about you doing all of this for him again.

His thumb moves down and begins to play with your clit. You bite down your bottom lip as he begins to toy with you. You continue fingering yourself until it gets boring and you want him to eat you out.

He looks at your fingers that are covered with your juices. He watches your hand near his face and his mouth opens. He takes your fingers in and rolls his tongue around them. He gets every sweet drop on his tongue. And it takes so fucking good, and now he hates himself for ever leaving you first just because he was scared. You notice, “Tastes good?”

He hums while you take your fingers out. You finally look down at the hand that is still rubbing your clit. You push his hand away and you look up at him with adoring eyes, “You know what to do next, baby.”

He gets on his knees, his lips kissing your clit before he begins to flick his tongue on it. He looks up at you the entire time, hoping that you’ll praise him because it’s just been so long since the last time he’s done this. But your head is thrown back as you enjoy the way his tongue moves. 

“Oh, Toru– Put a finger in please!” You’re a little too loud and he knows that his neighbors can hear you through the thin walls. 

He does what you say and his right index finger gathers your slick before he inserts it. He moves it slowly, not matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. But it still feels so good. His finger is so thick, and so long. Although he doesn’t do much with it, you like the way it feels. 

“Just like that, Toru!” You moan. The way his name rolls off your tongue serves as encouragement to him. It has always sounded so right when it comes from your mouth.

His finger speeds up, soon enough the speed matches the one of his tongue. You have to shut your eyes, because the feeling of pleasure becomes too dominant, and it possesses your body. Your orgasm is approaching but it’s not there yet.

Your hands land on his hair, and you grab a fistful of it. You don’t know why you’re here in his room, but as your orgasm approaches you start to see a purpose. 

He adds another finger into your cunt, heightening your pleasure. He begins to curve them so they brush against your sweet spot which drives you wild. Satoru knows your body so well and you hate it. You hate it because you know no other man will ever touch you the way he does. Maybe that’s why you’re so hypnotized.

“Fuck-” The way his tongue feels along with his fingers is just too much for you to handle. Your orgasm approaches, and you bite your bottom lip. You try to suppress it to enjoy his tongue for a bit more, but it’s nearly impossible. “Toru, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

You repeat it over and over again making him catch on. He continues going with much motivation from the knowledge that you’re about to come. You see white and finally manage to practically scream, “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

He slows down but continues going, until he comes to a complete stop. He detaches his mouth from your cunt, and takes his fingers out. They’re covered in your juices and he licks his fingers clean. You slightly open your eyes and look down at him as he licks his fingers. You smirk as you look down at him. You pat his head, praising him, “Good boy.”

“Don’t treat me like a dog.” Satoru says as he stands up from the floor. But he does love hearing how he’s so good for making you come. He’s so proud that he still can make you come like that, and he wonders how good your boy toys have made you feel.

Satoru grabs your legs, putting them over his shoulders while he runs the tip through your folds. You look at him through heavy lids, almost thinking about how bad you’ll regret your decision. But he says, “I want us to get back together.”

“You’re making my pussy dry, Toru. Just fuck me.” You respond. You won’t admit how you enjoy hearing him say that he wants you back, but you don’t want to ponder on getting back together with him. You just want to feel good for a moment.

He pushes his cock inside of you, and you shut your eyes as you take all of him in. Satoru is just so perfect inside of you. He stretches you out, and when he bottoms out, he gives you a moment to adjust to his size since he doubts you’ve been with men as gifted as him ever since your divorce. 

He begins to move and he says, “Do they make you feel as good as I do, baby?”

“Toru…” You can’t give him an answer because you’ll end up embarrassed. He thrusts slowly in and out of you as he gets adjusted to your tight cunt.

“You’re still so fucking tight” He hisses. The man missed the feeling of your cunt around him, and he fucking hates himself for pretending a fist would be good enough to fuck. Satoru slowly starts to speed up. You missed the way he fucked you, mainly because his cock just fills you up so right.

He begins to get lost inside of you, and he begins to say nonsense, “Let’s get back together and have a baby.”

“Fuck, Satoru!” Your voice is so loud. You’re squeezing around him, and he begins to play with your clit to make you come faster.

“You gonna make me a daddy?” Satoru asks, hoping that you’re slowly becoming fucked out enough to say yes to the question. He’s making you feel so good that you’re not able to process the question

“Yes! I’ll make you a daddy!” You yell back, and Satoru’s thrusts somehow pick up more speed.

“I want to see you all round and big with my baby.” He says. “Gonna give you every last drop of my cum, and you’ll become my good wife and carry my babies, right? Will you?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You chant. He begins to get vocal as he gets closer to his release. You get tighter and tighter around him as your orgasm approaches. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake as you reach your orgasm. He groans at the feeling of your cunt as you reach your climax

“Fuck-” He mutters. He throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he releases his seed inside you. Your cunt milks him for every drop of his cum, and it feels like so much. Because Satoru did come a lot.

He pulls out his cock and takes your legs off his shoulders. The man catches his breath for a couple of seconds before he begins to kiss your stomach, sticking true to his word of wanting a baby. Satoru lays down beside you and he pulls you closer to him.

“Please come back to me, baby.” He says after he fully catches his breath. He knows that he’ll get you back, even if he has to ruin every other relationship you have. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words slip out of your mouth, and you instantly regret it. You regret the next words even more, “I’ll come back to you, Satoru.”

🏷 @cactustattoo @dearsunaa @mykyoon @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @galactict3a @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @tamaki-jiki @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas @witchofoe @sarcasticallydrowning @dilfs-lover @celi-xxmoon @sanzusblkgf @missyasma @lem-hhn

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojo imagine

[glitchtricks94]

TWST Guys Bringing You Home!: Heartslabyul Edition

Welcome to part one, I'm planning on writing all the dorms + Idia. Ortho will just be included with him, personally, since Ortho is too adorable to ever defile in any manner outside of being a cute little brother. Headcannons, headcannons, headcannons! Let's start this off with some cottoncandy fluff, shall we? Not gonna lie, I felt like a mom gushing about all her chaos children over tea writing this. I hope you enjoy these headcannons, and let me know your thoughts. I love interaction and would love to hold a conversation with you guys. Anyways, sit back, relax and have fun. -Glitchtricks Word count: 4k

Ace Trappola

Oh, this is such a delight to see. Little Ace is in love! Ace is super awkward and very defensive, and yet somehow little ol' you broke down all those walls of arrogance and faux confidence, such a special darling you are. So, how would he be if he decided to bring you home to meet his family?

Two words: Nervous. Wreck. Ace is a disaster before bringing you home to meet his brother and father; he's sweating, internally screaming, his anxiety is spiked, and you have to handle everything with your usual grace. Ace has some bad anxiety, which he confided that he coped with it by being all snarky with everyone, i.e. being a dick way too often. You didn't mind though, but you did gently encourage him to come to you if he felt too overwhelmed by everything, just in case he needed to vent. How sweet! There was a lot of texting back and forth, nights cuddling on your near dinosaur era furnishings of Ramshackle, and plenty of kisses on his temples, Ace had calmed down enough to not feel like an anchor was being dropped on his chest at the thought of bringing you home. He was ready to announce you as his to his family!

Oh dear, sweet Seven, he couldn't have predicted any of what happened... First, his brother decided to do the worst thing ever and brought up Ace's old view on dating and how his first girlfriend got ghosted. Ace wanted to die then and there, even being collared by Riddle was more tolerable than this hell... "Hey, (Y/N), you know my baby bro here had a gal before you, right?" "Oh? He did?" You said, your pretty eyes widening. "He's never mentioned her before..." "Dude, please, don't...!" Ace quietly pleaded, humiliation seeping in like a cold rain. "Yeah, he went out a few times with this one girl in middle school. She'd always go to amusement parks with him and stuff, topping it off with a Ferris wheel, but he ghosted her." Ace's brother continued, sipping on his tea. "And why's that?" You prodded, sipping your own tea as you shot a small glare at your boyfriend. You shared stories of your exes, but why didn't he? Did he not trust you? You didn't know whether you should feel hurt, or pissed. You chose to feel pissed. "Got bored, 'cording to him, she was just bland beyond her coffee tastes and liked a lot of stuff that just didn't click with him. She was pretty, but had as much depth as a piece of paper." The elder Trappola explained. "Her friends called him out for his shit, and he swore off dating, too much of a hassle in his opinion, so I'm surprised he decided to go out with you, much less bring you home." "I see." You hummed. Ace knew he was in the dog house and was now preparing to ask Sam if he sold flowers and romance stuff to try and make it up to you when you both got back to Night Raven.

Well, at least pop likes you! Can't wait to have you as an in-law! During dinner, Ace's dad smiled and chatted all about his boys, saying how proud he was of Ace for bringing home such a sweetheart like you! You ended up forgetting the upsetting conversation from earlier given how jovial Mr. Trappola was, he was like that one cool uncle that was trusted with looking after the baby, or that one cool barbeque dad your friends might have. Card tricks were shared, food was eaten and conversation was exchanged, if at a little of your boyfriend's expense. Funny stories were shared, like that one time he accidentally hit his brother in the groin with a bat as a kid when he came home for the holidays, or that time Ace got pranked by his dad with a classic; pouring soap on his head while he was rinsing out his own lather. "My hair was never as silky as it was after that." Ace laughed, starting to loosen up as he threw his arm around your shoulder. You leaned over and pecked his cheek, making both your faces bloom red as you both grinned happily. Overall, you're basically already known as the best in-law ever even before Ace put a ring on it. He's already planning how to ask a few years down the line, though~!

Deuce Spade

Another cute boy, who's mildly awkward when in love. Oh, how sweet! He took a lot of time learning how to properly approach you. didn't he? Deuce is beaming with pride having you on his arm, smiling that cute little boy smile he shows off when he's excited. He loves holding your hand in his as you stroll about the rose gardens of Heartslabyul. You knew he was close to his mom, having ditched his old delinquent days after hearing her crying on the phone to his grandmother, and he often talked about you to her, sometimes while you were sitting right there! Oh, how your cheeks reddened hearing him spout compliments about you to his mother. Both you and Deuce were arranging to meet his mom and grandma, in fact Deuce wanted to introduce you as soon as possible! You're one of the most important people in his life, so he wanted to share you with his familial circle asap. So, how does this all go?

Oh, honey, grandma practically fell in love with you on first sight. You met Deuce's grandma and mom at the same time, the two sitting at the dining room table in Ms. Spade's home, sipping away on their tea. It was a little awkward with Ms. Spade, but granny practically pounced on you when Deuce said you were his significant other. She was just smiling up at you, going on about how much of a cutie you were the whole while. It was quite nice, talking over tea, Deuce smiling happily as he had an arm respectfully wrapped around your waist. Needless to say, mom relaxed a bit seeing how her mother was reacting alongside her baby boy.

Deuce didn't know why he didn't expect the baby pictures to be brought out... Baby books, baby books and more baby books. You were surprised by the sheer amount that Deuce's mother loved to do scrapbooking, it was like there was a mountain of baby books from when your sweet card soldier was growing up! There had to be about six books sitting on the coffee table. Everyone had gathered into the living room after tea, Ms. Spade excitedly flitting about the place like a child on sugar, gathering all these books to stack, Deuce slowly turning red seeing his old baby books being yanked out again. You sat next to Deuce, holding his hand with your fingers interlaced. "Here's when Deuce was two, he always played with his food, he was such a messy baby!" Ms. Spade gushed, showing off a picture of baby Deuce smiling up at the camera; baby food was smeared all over his smiling face, his hands caked in the stuff and the bowl on his little head, his pretty jade colored orbs shimmering with joy. "His little smile is infectious!" You chirped, smiling warmly at the picture of your darling boyfriend. Deuce buried his head in your hair, hiding from his embarrassment.

Deuce felt like melting into your embrace at this point. You made his night. After a fun dinner filled with embarrassing stories from when Deuce was young, warm hearty laughter and sweet gazes exchanged with your boyfriend, the two of you settled into bed, you sneaking out of the guest room grandma insisted you stay in to steal some kisses and snuggles. You settled into Deuce's arms as he kissed your rosy cheeks, tangling your legs with his under the covers. Looking into his eyes, you've never seen him look so happy since he got an 86 on his history exam. "I love you so much, baby." Deuce whispered sweetly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I love you too, honey." You replied, your own voice laced with the sugar of your love for the jade eyed boy. "I wanna say thanks for coming with me to meet my mom and grandmother, it meant a lot to me." "Deucey, it's no trouble!" You chirped softly, smiling up at your lover. "I'm just happy they like me." "They love you, you fit perfectly into the family!" Deuce laughed, his shoulders shaking. "It's honestly a relief that you get along, I was scared things would go wrong. But, I guess I panicked for nothing." The navy haired first year continued, turning to gaze at you with so, so much love. "You're perfect after all." Deuce was gonna be the death of you, he was always so sweet. You could mark this day as a sweet, sweet success: Your boyfriend was happy, grandma loves you, mom thinks you're perfect for her son, and everything felt like utter bliss. So, without saying another word, you sealed your night with Deuce with a kiss...~

Cater Diamond

Cater being in love honestly isn't surprising; being in love is such brand booster! Cute Magicam couples? Yes please! Being real though, Cater's honestly a major handful for you, because under that cheery "Caycay is gonna slayslay" vibe that the 3rd year carries, he's honestly a complete wreck and is terrified that you'll get tired of his anticks. Shocking how he and Azul aren't besties in that regard. However, he had no need to fear! The marvelous S/O was here to save the day: Cuddles, kisses, spicy ramen and at home spa treatments were being rapid fired from your heart to claim Cater's love and destroy his anxiety! So, with the day saved, you and your lovely boyfriend could be free to talk about a tough topic; when are you gonna meet his family? Cater ended up laughing at your question and told you to start packing your bag, he's going to talk Crowley into letting you have a weekend getaway! Even if he disliked his sisters!

Already he was regretting life... Cater's sisters immediately burst out to greet their baby brother after his mom called, and the first thing they do? Tell you that your shirt is super not cute and Cater should go buy you another one. "It's what a good boyfriend would do!" The eldest sister said, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah! It's what our boyfriends did!" His other sister chimed in. Cater was here less than five seconds and already he felt like blowing a gasket... "But this is my favorite shirt. That I bought myself." You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't get to tell me what to wear, so shush." "Way to stand up for yourself, honey bunny~!" Cater chirped, smiling at you as he led you inside with an arm around your waist. The ginger boy swore he fell even harder than when he first started dating you in that moment.

Cater was internally screaming at how his sisters acted and just wanted to go home. Oh, and mom didn't really like you, so there's that. The room was a bit tense as you sat and shared tea and some lightly burned pastries made by Cater's sisters. Cater himself was suffering the overly sweet baked goods and planned to just spend the after noon there. "So, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. Diamond asked, eying you with a sharpened gaze. "Oh, I met him at Night Raven. My friend had gotten into a predicament and I ran into him while he was painting his dorm's roses!" You explained, a warm smile coming to your face as your boyfriend started to blush softly. "He was so cute and charming, still is, honestly." "Awww, babes, stop!" Cater giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his, making you laugh in turn. "I see." His mother huffed. The rest of the time was awkward to say the least.

You could tell your boyfriend could finally breathe after you left the house. Dad wasn't around that day, bit too busy with his banking job, so you didn't get to meet him; not that you really cared, Cater's sisters ruined a good chunk of the afternoon and made your poor honey work himself to the bone! Cater dropped the cheap, fake smile on his face when you both made it out of the house, his anger flaring up as he started muttering various rants under his breath. "Caycay, do you wanna get some lunch? There's a nice ramen place we could go to." You gently suggested, wanting to make your sweetheart feel better and ease his stresses. "It's that reaaally nice one you saw on Magicam the other day. The one that Vil praised" "That...That sounds wonderful honey bunny." Cater sighed, looking at you with a tired grin. Without much thought, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart flutter. So over lunch, you both came to terms that the fam might not dig on you, but that didn't matter to you or Cater. You had each other, and that's what mattered most to you two lovebirds.

Trey Clover

You have such a good man on your hands, even if he's a touch shy with his affections. When you first broached the topic of meeting his family, Trey was taken aback. He adored you to no end, and he could see a future with you, even if it'd be long distance for a few years, why hadn't he thought of showing you off to his family? "Of course I'll introduce you, darling." He said with a warm smile, leaning down to press a peck on your cheek, "How about we visit this upcoming weekend? I'm sure Riddle can hold it together long enough."

It was a really sweet reception when you showed up. Trey's parents were told about you ahead of time by their eldest, given how he's the responsible boy he is, so you were greeted by a small banner and a custom cupcake in your favorite flavors. The banner that was hung read "welcome home!" in bold, glittering rainbow letters; it tickled you pink! You felt at home already when Trey walked you up to the bakery, and the feeling intensified when his little siblings ran over, cheering over their big brother being home and asking if you were the person mom and dad talked about on the phone with Trey. Already you loved Trey's family, they were adorable in your eyes! "I hope you're ready for the insanity that's my family." Trey playfully remarked, pulling laughter from everyone around him. You hugged your boyfriend with a smile on your face. "I look forward to every minute we stay here."

Trey loved baking alongside you, but you and his family? Talk about heaven! Trey had to help out in the family business still, given his parents ran a bakery that had opened for lunch, so alongside the sweet smells of cake, the occasional smell of crisping pepperonis and melting cheese filled your senses. You found it odd at first, but your boyfriend's father swiftly explained that a demand for some more dinner and lunch friendly goods should be offered and they complied, if only a touch. You were surprised by how willing Trey's parents were when offering your help to ease the rush, helping your darling make and top some sugar cookies with oversized chocolate chips. You ended up swiping kisses from your boyfriend while his mom worked the front of house and his dad prepared the pizzas to be sent out. It seemed the more homely setting brought out the more affectionate side of your lover; small coos of adoration left his lips, tiny kisses peppered your cheeks, and skin to skin contact was through the roof as he guided you by taking your hands into his. It was all so romantic and sweet.

It had to be a bittersweet departure after your little weekend of fun was over, but everyone loved you. You had your bags packed back up with Trey, the luggage sitting in the foyer as you ate a delightful breakfast, feeling right at home as you sat next to your beloved. Trey was holding your hand under the table as you two dug into the fluffy blueberry pancakes his mom and dad had made for everyone, one of his little brothers quickly getting your attention. "(Y/N)?" The little boy called out quietly. "Yes, little one?" You asked, your voice a soft coo. The 3rd year glanced over at you as you interacted with his baby brother, watching carefully. "Will you come back with our big brother again soon?" "Well, that depends on both me and your big brother, dear. I'd love to, though!" You replied, flashing a smile to the little guy, who hugged you. "I'm gonna miss you..." He whined. "Me two!" Trey's sister piped up. "Me thwee!" The youngest chimed in, Trey and his parents chuckling at your interactions. "You have quite the partner here, Trey." His father spoke, looking at his son in pride. "You really do, sweetie, you better try and hold onto them!" Trey's mother spoke, smiling warmly. "They're a keeper!" "I know." Trey replied, looking at you now hugging his younger siblings, warmth bubbling in his chest. "I plan to treat them right." Overall, you had a new home in the Clover family, and your boyfriend's thinking of ways to properly propose to you after the trip. Never hurts to plan it out!

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh god, oh no, this one hurts. This will never ever end well if he picks the S/O... You knew Riddle had some problems he was trying to work through, you understood, truly! And Riddle was eternally grateful for your presence and influence in his life, you had to be the best thing to ever happen to him! You were his angel sent from the stars. Which is why he dreaded introducing you to his mother. He knew his father would've been okay, and he honestly has zero issues showing you off to him! If he was actually at home that is...He was currently abroad when Riddle accidentally let it slip that he was dating. So, in came the demands to meet you to make sure you were good enough for her baby, and the news that you two were going to his house for dinner.

You both had pits in your stomachs when you showed up to the Rosehearts household... You were greeted by the intimidating visage of Riddle's mother, who was standing in the yard with her arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes boring into you. "Hello, mother." Riddled greeted, closing himself off to your presence and tensing up, his shoulders stiff; a telltale sign that he was stressed. You had to bite back the urge to coo and coddle him like you normally did when he was upset. "Riddle." His mother hummed looking at you with disdain. "Why is your...companion here dressed like that?" She asked sharply, making you feel embarrassed. You had asked Rook of all people to style you, but it appears it's simply not up to par with the impossible standard's Mrs. Rosehearts held. "We had asked one of our fellow classmates to dress them in the finest clothes they had available." Riddle spoke. Riddle's mother tsked. "I thought that I raised you better than this, they look terribly tacky, and I thought you would've had better tastes. Come. Dinner is waiting now." Riddle clenched his fists, feeling sorrow well up in his chest as he looked at you apologetically. You rushed forward, hugging Riddle from behind and kissing his cheek to reassure him. It was still quite the sting hearing his mother act so harsh, though.

Dinner wasn't much better either... You made sure to study proper etiquette with Riddle before you came here, but none of that seemed to matter as you choked down the bland food. Seriously, who doesn't bother to season meet and just serve nothing but tomatoes, onions and iceberg lettuce for a salad...? You tried your best, but Mrs. Rosehearts just eyed you in disgust, biting her tongue but looking at Riddle with a disappointed gaze. Riddle himself couldn't tell if sorrow or anger was bubbling up in his chest. You explained you were from another world when she asked where you were from and she looked at you like you just spat on her when you told her you were magicless; despite her already knowing that. She made Riddle tell her about you after making him nearly break down in tears over the phone last night. "Pathetic! I raised my son better than this, and yet you're barely passing, have no magic, and carry no knowledge of anything worthwhile! You're nothing but a waste of his time and my own!" The harpy of a woman shrieked. Oh, that was it, he picked his side of the fence...

Riddle felt a cord finally snap as all of his years of strict, lonely suffering drove him forward. "Why can't you just be happy that I finally found someone, mother?" Riddle hissed, catching the attention of his present parent. "Because, your selection was terrible! I could pick you a much better partner." Mrs. Rosehearts said, you feeling like you could start crying. "No! I-I don't want anyone else, much less an arrangement where I'll feel nothing for the other party!" Riddle barked angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he stood up. "I want who I fell in love with! I want my rose! I want to stay with (Y/N)!" "When will you see that you're worth more than them?!" "They've been nothing short of an angel to me, fixing the damage you caused!" Riddle yelled, his face bright red from anger. "They're worth far more than me from where I stand!" "Then you can just take that garbage and get them out of this house, you and I will start studying to find you a suitable-" "If they leave, I'm leaving with them, in fact, that's a wonderful idea!" Riddle bellowed, you looking up at him and rising from your seat. Rushing to his side, you tugged him out of the house as Riddle's mother screamed at you two from the kitchen and out the door, Riddle yelling that she won't take you away; he's had so much stripped from him, he refuses to lose you. This entire situation was a disaster, but you knew your precious prince loved you so dearly. Once you two made it back to his dorm, Riddle looked exhausted. You asked him what you could do to ease his struggles after he changed into his pajamas. "My rose, tonight, I just want to forget everything, rules and all..." Riddle whined, looking at you with tired slate grey orbs. "I just want to hold you in my arms and wake up to your face..." "Of course, my love." You cooed softly, kissing his cheeks as you both crawled under the covers of his bed, Riddle curling into your form instantly. Under the warmth of the duvet, everything felt right; you were his and he was yours, and no tyrant was ever going to rip you apart. Riddle had proven his iron clad love belonged to you and you alone.

#twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #twst headcanons