#if nobody finds this funny me and my friend did
Note
i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.
let's set some ground rules.
so… how do we do this?
Sarah Cameron
i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.
let's set some ground rules.
so… how do we do this?
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
and so the sequel becomes a holy trinity
Sarah Cameron was a pretty girl. Everyone knew it, whether they acknowledged it with awe, envy, or lust, everyone knew the Cameron genes worked like magic. The button nose, the full lips, the sun-kissed skin, the luscious hair that was a mix of blonde and brown strands, the dark brown eyes. The talk of the town, the pretty princess of Figure Eight, the beloved darling of the Cameron family. Sarah Cameron had no business being in the Cut. Hell, she had no business hanging out with JJ's troublemaking friends. She had no business seeking him out, and no business lying in the bed of a Maybank. Funny how the world worked, (Y/N) thought.
Maybanks and Camerons weren't supposed to mix. They were from two different worlds. And yet...
Between the altercation between JJ and their father and Barry's rage over being jumped and robbed, (Y/N) had an ever-growing headache. He found himself glad JJ had beaten their father into near silence and fucked off before (Y/N) could get home, although he'd left him to patch their father up and deal with quiet, angered mutterings. His father luckily seemed either too exhausted or too drunk to bother him much, leaving him to spend his free day in his room listening to music while he gathered the will to get a Tylenol and step out into the world. He could use a drink or two or three. Maybe he'd stop by a bar and listen to Barracuda Mike's tales about his international dealings until the alcohol knocked him unconscious.
Following in Daddy Dearest's footsteps. Typical.
His father staggered into the doorway, slamming his fist twice against the old wooden door with a sneer. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat and he tentatively paused the music, eyeing the subtle way his father swayed from side to side. Nobody could make him revert to childhood like Luke did, back when he'd cradle a crying JJ while JJ's mom and Luke got into screaming matches over one thing or the other. "Mind tellin' me why the hell there's a Cameron standin' on our goddamn porch? I don't want no problems with Ward, (Y/N)."
"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, pulling the earbuds from his ears and standing up. "Which Cameron, Dad? The idiot or the chick?"
"The chick." Fuckin' Camerons. Fuckin' Sarah. "If Ward catches wind of his little girl strutting aroun' here half-naked-"
"What are you even talking about?" (Y/N) tossed his phone aside and sucked his teeth, slipping past his father and hearing those familiar heavy footsteps follow him to the front door. Sure enough, there stood Sarah Cameron, her head tilted out toward the marsh and arms folded over her bare stomach. Christ.
"I want no problems. Understood, boy?" Luke hissed in his ear, moving past him and sparing the blonde a glance before he walked toward his truck. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, finding relief in the fact his father coincidentally needed to head into town under the guise of an errand, when they both knew Luke only ran 'errands' when he needed a hit of something strong. Probably needed something to take his mind off the bruises on his face.
"I shouldn't have to explain why showing up here, on the Cut, dressed in a bikini top and shorts is a shit idea, Sarah."
"I was going to the beach with some- whatever, it doesn't matter. I... I wanted to talk about the other day, alright? You know, when you basically yelled at me-"
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Next time, instead of showing up, you get my number from one of the Pogues and you text me, alright? The guys my dad hangs out with call girls like you jailbait, Sarah. They're sleazy fucks who couldn't care less about where you come from." (Y/N) huffed, but regardless, he pushed the front door open enough for her to step inside, eyes following the cloud of dust left behind by his father's truck as it sped down the road.
The Maybank's home was hardly anything to look at but (Y/N) managed to keep it clean, at least whenever Hurricane Luke didn't pass through. The general upkeep, and frankly everything else, fell on his shoulders with JJ gone half the time and Luke too intoxicated to care about the world around him. Just about every piece of furniture was old, passed down from Maybank to Maybank without so much as a repair or restoration. At the very least, trying to fix the broken things at a young age had given him some pretty decent skills. He couldn't do much about the holes in the walls and doors, though.
"It's my day off, Sarah. I'd like to spend it without stressing over any of the bullshit that's been going on the past couple of days, 'kay? Say your piece and go off with your boytoy, princess. I want to have a beer in hand by noon so make it quick." (Y/N) sat back on the armrest of the worn couch, crossing his arms and watching the girl study her surroundings. Sarah slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and set it on another seat, leaning back against the barely used dining table. Great. Definitely wasn't going to be quick.
"I didn't appreciate you getting in my face, for starters. It was rude and unnecessary and I wasn't even given a chance to explain our side of the story. We found the gold in the Crain house and we went to your job thinking you were there. You weren't, obviously. The old lady and Barry were and they set us up. Barry held us at gunpoint and tried robbing us. We defended ourselves. JJ went rogue and robbed Barry. We told him not to." Sarah kept her arms crossed as she spoke, finishing with a light shrug and slightly jutted lips. "I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar, either. I wanted to set the story straight."
"You could've found diamonds or emeralds or rubies in that old ass house, and I still would've been pissed about this treasure hunt continuing. Big John is dead and you know how he died? Treasure hunting. John B wants to die like his dad? Fine by me. I stopped liking him a long time ago. But JJ? The idiot that I spent my whole life raising? I'm gonna make sure that little shit dies of old age. If you want to merrily march into danger with Routledge, fine, go for it. Keep my brother out of it."
"Why do you keep bringing JB up as if I like him? I already told you John B isn't my boyfriend. He's my friend, and yes, I care about him. I-I want to see him happy and that's why I'm helping him but-"
"Is that the only reason you're helping him?" (Y/N) asked, rising from the armrest and taking slow steps toward the blonde. Her brows lifted slightly and her lips twitched, slowly curling upward into that little smile despite how much she tried resisting it. She looked away from him defiantly and clicked her tongue, eyes trailing back toward him.
"Are you suggesting I became friends with John B just to see you? Quite the ego you've got, Maybank. I said I liked you, not that I'm obsessed with you." Her voice softened, laced with playfulness and a hint of mischief, her previous irritation (if she'd even been irritated to begin with) long gone.
"I was gonna say you wanted to piss off Carrera but if that's the first thing that came to mind..." He trailed off, hearing her scoff in soft disbelief before she swatted at his shoulder halfheartedly. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, peering up at him through her dark lashes.
"You're a dick." She murmured, not nearly as offended as the last time she'd uttered those words.
"Yeah," He dipped down slightly, hands finding the back of her thighs and fingers digging into the warm plushness of her skin. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft giggles leaving her as he lifted her onto the table, the wood creaking softly under the added weight. One hand slid up from his shoulder and curled around his neck, the tip of her nails slightly scraping against his skin. Sarah's skin flushed. "And the sky's blue."
"But what else is new, right?" Her lips stretched out into a smile before she leaned in, pressing them against his as his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, half his palms pressing against her skin and the other half against her denim shorts. He pulled her closer until she'd gone flush against him, her legs wrapping loosely around him. Her arm curled around his shoulder and her head tilted to the side, a muffled, flustered giggle leaving her when his teeth lightly dug into her bottom lip. His hand moved and pressed flat against her exposed back, trailing upward until his fingers found the bottom straps of the olive green bikini. With one swift tug, they went undone.
There was a dizzying aspect to making out with a Cameron, he'd come to realize. Maybe it was the knowledge that her father could be considered one of the most influential men on the island or that his life could change for better or worse with just a word from her. It was an intoxicating feeling if he had to be honest. Sarah seemed to feel similarly considering her fingers dug into him and pulled him as close as possible, her breath escaping her in soft pants. She leaned back briefly and pulled her hands away, dipping them under her hair and undoing the straps keeping the bikini on her. She tossed it aside blindly and mushed their lips together again, arms coiling around him and body slightly lifting itself onto him. His hands returned to her thighs and he lifted her again, letting muscle memory kick in as he found his way back to his bedroom.
He really needed to stop hanging out with the Pogues. They were messing with his judgment.
At the very least, he'd spent his free day doing something fun, even if regret began to dig into his back. He was a Maybank. He lived up to the asshole playboy part of his family's reputation 'cause there was nothing better than messing around to take the stress off, but he never enjoyed toying with someone's heart. He'd made a rule in middle school after his first heartbreak to never knowingly get involved with anyone who actually liked him. The first time with Sarah hadn't broken that rule but now...
"Can I ask what we are or will that ruin your mood?" Sarah's voice piped up, her lips dragging lightly over his shoulder. His fingertip ran up and down her spine, feeling the goosebumps along her skin while he stared at the ceiling. It felt grounding to have weight pressing him against the bed, even if it was Sarah Cameron of all people.
"I just like having sex with you sometimes. That's all." He answered and she shifted, hands planting themselves on either side of his head and body lifting itself up slightly. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, the ends tickling his cheek.
"Sometimes?" She repeated with an arched brow. "You want to do this more often?"
"You're not bad for a virgin." He murmured.
"Not one anymore, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember." His hand moving along her back dipped under the covers that'd pooled around her hips, squeezing the skin hiding underneath. She flushed immediately and lowered herself back onto him, burying her warmed face in his neck and huffing. "You were pretty loud-"
"Okay." She groaned and lifted her head again, her reddened cheeks puffed out slightly. "So… how do we do this? Have you done this before?"
"Yeah, until she and I had a pregnancy scare. It was enough to make us block each other." (Y/N) answered, pushing himself up slightly and against the wall behind his pillows. Her legs tangled around his further, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "Let's set some ground rules. I'm going to give you my number and you'll use it whenever you want to see me. If anyone asks, it's just to keep in touch about JJ. Routledge probably thinks you've got the hots for him so I'd prefer if you didn't tell him or Thornton. Let those two go at each other. If you want to be spontaneous like today, you bring protection. I really don't need a little bastard running around right now."
"I've been on birth control since freshmen year. Rose insisted on it."
"Good for you. My mom was on it when she decided to fuck around and find out and here I am now." He raised his brows at her. "Anyways... don't get your hopes up for anything, Sarah. I mean it. If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting hurt by disappointment."
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#the outer banks#outer banks#outer banks x you#outer banks x reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x male reader#obx#obx x reader#obx x you#obx x y/n#obx x male reader#sarah cameron#sarah cameron x reader#sarah cameron x you#sarah cameron x male reader#luke maybank#jj maybank#obx x maybank!reader#sarah cameron x maybank!reader
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the pyramid - B. Blake x reader
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playlist ! kinda took ur idea and ran with it, i love getting requests
Bellamy Blake x reader - Arkadia
It wasn't uncommon for you to flirt with Bellamy, but it was unusual for him to flirt with you back.
cw: smut, plot, nsfw
Flirting with Bellamy was my forte, brushing me off was his. I had stopped counting the number of times he'd dismissed my advances, not really caring. Most of the time it'd be a joke, and most of the time it wouldn't be.
Today was no exception.
I was walking down the halls of Arkadia to the bar where I 'worked' when I passed by Bellamy.
"Hey, hot stuff." I greeted as I always do with a smile.
"That's not my name, y/n." Despite his words, I could always hear a hint of amusement in his voice.
Bellamy always said it was inappropriate, that we were just friends, but that could never stop me. I knew he'd have to give in at one point, who wouldn't with me?
"Right, where are you off to looking like that?" I looked him up and down, he looked good. Though he looked like that every day. Literally.
Bellamy had a look of confusion as he examined his own outfit before connecting the dots and rolling his eyes, "I don't have time for this," He said before turning heel and continuing his walk down the hall.
"You know you love it!" I yelled before doing the same.
Life at Arkadia was simple, the grounders had stopped attacking around a month ago, and our hunting parties would always come back with feasts, it was how life should be.
And I didn't always flirt with Bellamy or shoot terrible pickup lines his way.
I knew when the time was right to do it, most saw it as a funny bit, most saw me as desperate or wierd, and some saw me as a girl trying to find her way which I found completely unrelated to the situation at hand. People usually made it known where they stood on the pyramid; either by their actions or words. But I wasn't sure where Bellamy stood on the pyramid; I was sure his stance fluctuated as the days passed.
Funny.
Desperate.
Weird.
Lost.
Those were the four trifectas of the pyramid.
There were days when I thought I should find my luck elsewhere- like Murphy or Monty, people who would fold the second I even glanced their way. But that was the easy way out, and Murphy wasn't exactly the cutest tool in the shed. I liked the chase with Bellamy; it was exhilarating. The constant back-and-forth banter on how it was inappropriate, how there were better times for flirting, and how bad the pickup line was.
The chase wasn't the only thing that fueled me, it was not knowing the outcome. Despite my confidence, I was sure how this would end with Bellamy, this could go on for years to come, and he could get a girlfriend. I wasn't sure how that thought made me feel- well I did; I just didn't know how to put it into one word.
Disgust, jealousy, hurt.
For my own brain's sake, it was a less-than-appealing thought.
"Hey, Sinclair!" I yelled, entering the back of the bar.
Jasper was already in his usual spot. He sat there every day for 43 days since they got rescued from Mount Weather, the only time he left was when we called Miller to carry him out.
I always asked Sinclair to just ban Jasper from the bar and save us the trouble, but Sinclair said to just let him cope after the trauma he'd been through, having lost someone special to him. So after the first 10 days, I stopped pitching the idea. I wasn't sure what else he was on, it was a sore sight for the other regulars who weren't drinking their way into the grave. It was a sad sight for anyone, but nobody but me had the guts to say anything to him.
I wasn't sure where Jasper was on the pyramid, when he wasn't drinking he was smoking, and when he wasn't smoking he was drinking. The only time he isn't doing either is when he's sleeping.
I like the think that the old Jasper would find it funny.
"So, what is it? Day 40 already?" I ask Jasper while pouring a new batch into the bar's fountain.
Jasper didn't turn to look at me, he didn't try and do anything, he never did. Though I didn't know how he felt since I've never lost anyone I loved.
"Day 43." His head was resting on his arms as he stared down into the half-empty glass, he didn't even feel like drinking, too consumed in his own sadness.
I didn't try to continue the conversation further, knowing the fun, easygoing Jasper was already drowned out by the buzz and taste of the drink in his hands. And I didn't openly argue with him, I already knew he was arguing with himself.
"Two minutes late, y/n." Sinclair said, appearing from the open door next to me.
Sinclair was like a mentor to me, he was tough on me but it kept me in line when I needed to be.
I knew where Sinclair stood on the pyramid, he thought I was trying to find my way in this burned world; which was only half true, the world was factually burned.
I wasn't lost, I wasn't trying to find my way. I thought people were taking it far too seriously for their own good. And no matter what I said, they would always think that.
"Salvation isn't easy, Sinclair." I joked, directing my attention from Jasper.
"Salvation lies within." Sinclair walked by me, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar.
"Salvation," I look to him, "Can kiss my ass." I smiled.
"Language," Sinclair warned, though a smile showed through his frown.
"Nobody deserves forgiveness," Jasper spoke up, in his self-deprecating pity.
I turned to look at him, his glass was now empty and he tossed me a familiar look.
I grabbed his cup and refilled it under the fountain, "Miserable quote of the day, Jas?" I handed him back his drink.
I joked to keep my own sanity around Jasper, his sadness had a way of infecting people. You could've been the happiest person but one minute around Jasper and you're drinking your way to an early grave.
Did it with half our regulars.
Jasper didn't reply, instead, he gulped down the thick liquor and stood abruptly. It wasn't a surprise, it was his usual routine. He'd drink until he felt tired of drinking, then dance until he felt tired of dancing.
All this sadness got me thinking back to my happy memories, I wonder what Bellamy is doing right now.
"You pass by Bellamy?" I ask turning my head towards Sinclair who was absentmindedly watching Jasper find music.
"Yeah, why?" He asked, resting his head on his palm with his elbow propped up.
"Just curious. Is he on watch today?" With how much I think about him you'd think I'd have his guard days down- but I don't- I'm not desperate.
Sinclair sighed, "For the first half, I think."
I smiled widely at this.
Serving at the bar was great, it meant I could socialize, and learn more about people, but most of all?
I could see Bellamy nearly every day.
Everyone used the bar room as a hangout area and eating area, it's where everyone went when they wanted to chill. It's where Bellamy always goes.
And like clockwork, I saw Bellamy's tall build walking into the bar with Miller and Clarke at his sides.
Miller was a nice guy, despite his total resting bitch face which intimidates most- if not all- people. Though, when it comes down to serious situations he isn't one to joke around. I, unfortunately, learned that the hard way when we were talking defense plans and I had the great idea to hit on Bellamy.
I was on guard watch for a week after that.
It was easy to understand where Miller landed on the pyramid, most of the time, he thought I was desperate. He believed I could get anyone else I wanted, and that I should give up on the delusion of Bellamy.
It really pushed my buttons when people couldn't grasp the joking aspect of it all, but I was too deep in the joke to stop.
I could tell Clarke didn't like me by the way she looked at me and by the way she talked to me. I didn't like her either. I wasn't sure why she didn't like me, it's not like I openly talk about hating her.
And it's fairly easy to know where Clarke stood, she told me every time I brought it up, she thought I was weird. Her words never got to me though, nobody ever did, I was very confident in myself.
Not wanting to suffer through my firting Sinclair patted me on the shoulder and took his leave, sad for him, I've been thinking of new ones this entire time.
Bellamy walked up to the bar while Miller and Clarke took their seats at a table, watching Jasper dance very tiredly.
"Let's hear it," I heard him say, already expecting my antics.
I smile, "Hear what?"
"Don't play dumb, I've been waiting all day for this one." My smile was quickly returned with a grin as he leaned on the surface.
"Why don't we skip the talking and go back to my room." I placed three cups full of liquor on the bar.
I was expecting him to laugh my comment off, return to his friends, and make some witty comments.
"Might take you up on your offer if you keep dressing like that,"
His tone was the opposite of his smile, he sounded serious.
Maybe he was drunk.
But he hadn't even drunk.
This was the first time he didn't brush off my flirting.
I felt all my confidence go out the window, finally not having a witty comeback I stared towards the ground. Feeling my face fog over with a deep red I hoped he didn't notice, I hoped he took the drinks and left.
But the world never worked in my favor.
"Look at me," Bellamy said.
I didn't hesitate to obey his command, looking up at him to be met with a cocky grin.
Bellamy noticed the red lining my cheeks, he didn't know I'd fold this fast.
"That's a good princess." I watched as he took all three cups in his big hands and turned his heel towards Clarke and Miller.
I was left stunned.
"Can I get another drink?" Jasper slurred.
"Shut up..." I breathed out.
I watched Bellamy's figure that entire night, he knew it too, I didn't try to hide it. But I knew he was watching me too, he watched as I interacted with people, while I poured drinks, and watched me watch him.
Why was I so nervous over two simple sentences? I was supposed to be in control.
The night was full of shameless staring, eye fucking each other from across the room. A complete switch from this morning.
My mind imagined what was under his clothes, what was below his waistline. The thought made my whole body shiver.
The hours passed by antagonizing slowly. Jasper got mad and voluntarily left the bar while Clarke and Miller took their leave, and once they left so did the rest.
But Bellamy didn't leave.
He stayed until the bar room was empty and the only thing you could hear was the low hum of music from the bar's old iPod recovered from Mount Weather.
Knowing it was just me and Bellamy left in the bar I felt nervous.
Was he going to leave too? Turn heel and pretend it didn't happen? What did happen? Why am I asking so many questions?
Bellamy was sitting at a table in the middle of the bar, gazing at me as I emptied the fountains into buckets for the night. Thanks, Jasper.
My hands were trembling the entire time, I was too focused on trying to look normal I didn't even notice when Bellamy stood up, I didn't notice when he walked to the bar, and I didn't notice when he leaned on it.
Placing the lock on the barrel I stood up once again, being startled when I locked eyes with Bellamy.
"Got anything else for me?" He asked, looking me up and down.
Confidence.
"I need you..."
That is not confidence.
"Go to your place, I'll be there soon." Bellamy stood up correctly while speaking, his body now towering over mine from across the bar.
I wasn't sure if it was because I felt intimidated or curious, but my chores had been long forgotten. My only goal now was to listen to Bellamy.
He stared with a smile, watching me walk out of the bar and down the hall towards my room.
Thousands of thoughts were racing around my mind.
Maybe he was just pranking me, or standing me up, finally getting payback for all the inconvenient times I've hit on him like a desperate dog.
One thing was for sure.
I knew where I stood on the pyramid.
Sneaking into my room I realized the mess I left it in when I woke up late this morning.
"Shit!" I whisper-yelled, quickly tending to the mess unsure of how much time I'd have.
What was I meant to do in these situations? Undress and look sexy on the bed? Just stand here and wait? Stare into the wall and think about my actions that led to this point? Only one of those options sounded good to me at this moment.
And it was definitely not the first one.
But what if he was expecting that?
I shut my mind up when I heard three knocks.
I didn't need to check to know it was him. What do people do in these situations? Do I wait before answering?
Confidence.
Opening the door I was met with Bellamy looking down at me. He wasn't in his jacket and he carried a serious face.
"Do you, um, wanna come in?" I ask, my voice wavering.
My confidence once again crumbled at the sight of him.
"I wanna do more than that," Bellamy said before walking inside, once the door was closed he pressed his lips to mine.
Something primal took over Bellamy, he kissed me wildly as we walked backward towards my bed. We didn't part once, not even when he roughly dragged my pants down and undid his, or when he tore my shirt to get to my breasts.
The cold air hit my nipple but was soon covered by his big, calloused hands. I moaned into the kiss and he smiled, parting from the kiss to get a full view of my chest.
I bit my lip as I watched him, his gaze shifting from my breasts, down my stomach, and towards my cunt hiding behind my panties.
"You were so cocky this morning," His hands roamed down underneath my panties, "What happened, princess?"
The feeling of him exploring my body made me shiver and let out a breathy moan.
I couldn't believe Bellamy had me crumbling and melting under his gaze and touch. It was everything I'd been dreaming of, I knew I wouldn't last long with his praise.
"Stop teasing." I breathe out, bucking my hips up more into his hand, needing more than his fingers.
He smirked and snaked my panties down my thighs at a teasingly slow pace.
"Careful what you wish for."
He gripped my thighs and spread them apart, my lips parting with them. Bellamy used one of his hands to lower his boxers just enough to reveal his hardened cock.
I shivered at the contact it made with my cunt, "Please."
With a smirk, he lined his tip up with my entrance, and with a light thrust, he only inserted the tip.
I propped myself up on my elbows and watched his tip enter me, despite the little amount he was giving me I still felt the pain of the stretch. I needed more, I needed him; all of him.
"Bell, please, more," I said in a whiny voice staring up into his brown eyes.
"Brave princess, huh?"
I wasn't expecting him to thrust fully into me, but I was glad he did. The feeling overtook my entire body with a shake of my legs causing me to throw my head back with a loud moan, despite the pain a soft smile appeared on my face.
Bellamy let out his own series of groans at the tightness around his cock, the sight of me such a mess over his dick was beautiful to him, knowing he caused this, knowing I could follow his orders so well.
"Good fucking girl." He groaned out, running his hands down my thighs and to my hips, gripping them tightly as he began thrusting into me roughly.
I couldn't keep my eyes open, pain being mixed with pleasure making me shut them tightly.
"Keep your eyes open, princess, I want you to watch,"
I opened my eyes and watched as his cock pounded into me, the wet coat clearly visible despite the low lighting.
Bellamy used one of his hands to start circling around my clit as a reward for listening to him.
I was already reaching my climax, his fingers guiding me to my peak.
"I'm so close, Bell," Lewd sounds filled both our ears.
"Let it go, it's okay," He deepened his thrusts when he leaned forward, ghosting his lips on my cheeks and giving kisses to my jaw.
My entire body shook as my orgasm hit, I grabbed onto his back and dug my nails into the flesh; needing to grip onto anything while he fucked me through my high. The pleasure was unlike anything I've ever felt, him being so close causing me to breathe in his scent- it was intoxicating.
"That's my good girl, just like that," Bellamy exaggerated out the 'just.'
Bellamy pampered my neck with his kisses, leaving surprises I'd find in the morning. But I was too starstruck to care, only thinking about how well he fit in me.
I could tell Bellamy was close, he sounder louder with his grunts, and his hips couldn't keep up with his thoughts. I ran my fingers from his back and into his hair, gripping it slightly.
Bellamy began thrusting more wildly and faster, chasing his high until he finally reached it.
"Princess," He pulled out and rested his dick on my stomach as he came with a loud groan in my ear.
Coming down from his high Bellamy pulled away from me, letting me see his cum that decorated my stomach. Before he could grab a cloth I scooped the cum up with my fingers and stuck them in my mouth as he watched; the salty taste invading my mouth while I bit my lip at his reaction.
Bellamy only smirked at me before zipping his pants back up.
"Want me to stay?" He asked, watching me crawl under the fur covers.
"Of course I do, hot stuff." I scooted over giving Bellamy enough room to slide in next to me.
"That's not my..." He cut himself off, "Alright, princess." He smiled as he pulled me into a small kiss.
I learned two things that night.
Bellamy was amazing in bed.
And I didn't care about the pyramid anymore.
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#bellamy x reader#the 100 fanfic#the 100 smut#the 100 monty#the 100 bellamy#the 100 fanfiction#the 100#clarke griffin#bellamy blake#bellamy#the 100 bellamy blake#bellamy smut#bellamy blake smut#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy x reader smut#nate miller#monty green#jasper jordan#smut#bellamy blake x reader smut#x reader#female reader
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my friend told me tim looks like morrissey
#HEELLLLPPPP ME NOW I NEED TO BE RESTRAINED#This is so fucking stupid#marble hornets#I’m giggling#sorry about this one it’s literally almost 5am#mh#tim wright#tim wright marble hornets#if nobody finds this funny me and my friend did#this isn’t the one she saw of him but i didn’t feel like hunting it down#i should go to bed#i’m so sorry
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saw-esque halloween themed dnd oneshot with the party tomorrow and i probably wont be able to attend
#thetalogs#love my friends but THEY ARE FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TO PLAN THINGS WITH#the AMOUNT of fucking times i have to BEG them to stop going off topic in the gc is insane. please please please oh my fucking god#the oneshot is tomorrow and we didnt have a solidly established plans until literally 45 min ago#BUT I GUESS IT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER#CONSIDERING I WONT BE ABLE TO ATTEND#LOL#whatever! whatever whatever ive had 3 really good days in a row im not gonna let this get me down#just. really shit planning on literally everyones part#oh yeah sure bro we can do this at 6 pm cause you have to get off work.#yeah ofc we can eat dinner together and THEN start a 4 hr+ length dnd oneshot. yeah thatll be fine. absolutely fucking ludicrous reasoning.#honestly i probably could go but i almost dont even want to anymore. feeling too spiteful#AND ANOTHER THING#why the FUCK did P disrupt the whole planning convo and then go yeah ethan is coming! youre coming right ethan????#like shut the absolute hell up youre not funny nobody finds you funny#the fact that you keep making jokes while im trying to figure out this scheduling is irritating at best#and genuinely makes me wanna kick you in the fucking face at worst#LITERALLY i dont even like you right now#ooooooooo im normal. normal emotions well adjusted girlie etc etc. haha
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Diaper Discipline Guide
Emma & Henry
My boyfriend of 4 years has always had regressive and sub tendencies while I’ve wanted to talk more control in our relationship. We tried several bdsm activities including smacking and bondage but the occasional nature wasn’t really doing it for me.
After finding out more online about Female Led Relationships I came across DD, initially dismissing it. But the more I read, the better and better the idea appealed to me. After some planning I decided to confront my partner and say I wanted to add an element of control and domination into our relationship, by saying I hadn’t decided how to do it yet we had a long discussion without diapers being mentioned where he agreed in principle to “lifestyle dominance” as long as it could be kept between them and not impact his job, friends, etc.
This guide was invaluable to me to plan the rest and it solidified my decision. It took me two weeks to discreetly buy the required supplies, getting them delivered to our apartment on days he was at work. I decided that I wanted a high initial level of DD where he’d be in diapers 24/7 at home.
I decided to start on a Friday night after work. He’d known that I had been preparing for something and I started the conversation by saying my proposal was weird, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be painful/harmful and nobody else would find out but you wanted him to agree to try it for at least 6 weeks.
Although nervous he also seemed excited by the prospect and agreed. We moved to the bedroom where I told him to get undressed before I diapered him for the first time. There was a lot of objections at this stage but I talked him round and the agreement to try it for 6 weeks was helpful.
To make the shock less I started with a medical diaper which wasn’t too thick and let him wear his normal pjs over it. I left him to explore it on his own while going to make dinner. After dinner it was time to tell him all the rules, the main one was that the toilet at home was now banned and he’d be in diapers whenever he’s at home. I kept the baby elements to a minimum and said he’s have to also wear out the house sometimes but I’d make sure nobody could tell and never when he’s at work or with friends/family. I’m not going to lie and say this didn’t involve an argument, especially when he realised that no toilet meant #2 as well but we got through. We ended up watching a movie which was a good way for him to calm down.
He wet his diaper for the first time after the movie which was funny to watch as he was so nervous it was going to leak everywhere. Even though it wasn’t too wet I did change him straight away and made his change extra special too. That night he slept in a diaper for the first time.
Over the first weekend he did get more used to wearing and I allowed him to use the toilet for a bm on Saturday. Sunday however I decided to fully enforce the rules and he messed himself for the first time. I didn’t change him this time and he took a shower. There was a lot of protests again but I said it was none-negotiable. The smell did seem to be the biggest thing that bothered him so I bought some Devrom tablets which had been recommended, it took a few days for them to arrive and a few more of taking them but now his messy diapers hardly smell and the protests have stopped. I’d actually recommend you use these from day 1 to make the transition easier.
The first week was tough but we got through it and I’m happy to say we’re now 7 months in to him being in DD. Over that time I’ve moved to thicker abdl diapers, he wears onesies regularly around the house and the toilet has remained unused by him with only a few exceptions.
We both work mainly from home so I’ve gotten used to checking and changing his diaper but thick diapers + devrom has meant he generally only needs a change after waking up, sometime in the early afternoon and before bed. I’ll also let him change himself if I’m busy or cba.
The best news is after an initial rocky patch, our relationship feels stronger than ever! He proposed to me 5 months in and I can’t see his DD ending any time soon. I’ve increased elements overtime and now the toilet is banned even when out of the house together. Public wearing did take him a while to get used to but actually it’s easy.
I’m sure DD is not for everyone and is much more involved and hard work than other lifestyle changes but for creating a caring bond between you and your partner I’ve found it to be great!
#ab dl diaper#ab/dl diaper#diaper community#diaper dependent#diaper sissy#diaper gal#diaper faggot#sissi femboi#diaper training#sissifyme#abdlsissy#ab dl girl#abdlmommy#ab dl art#ab/dl mommy#abdlbabygirl#abdlcouple#abdlgermany#abdlbabyboy#ab dl lifestyle#diape#diaper pee#adult diaper lover#diaper bulge#diapered boy#diaperedgirls#diapered247#panty sissy#feminine sissy
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And I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: you overhear Peter denying that he likes you so you go out with another guy, leaving him to crash your date and tell you how he feels
Masterlist
“At what point does the staring because you’re pining for your friend become staring because you’re a stalker and planing on wearing her hair as a wig?” Ned asked after following Peter’s gaze and seeing he was once again staring at you from across the cafeteria.
“I don’t know. I think when I start wearing baseball caps and standing outside her window with binoculars.” Peter sighed happily and rested his chin in his hand as he continued to stare.
“But, it’s not gonna get to that point though, right?” Ned laughed nervously.
“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “She lives on a pretty high floor.”
“That’s not the answer I wanted.” Ned said quietly.
“I had a dream last night that I asked her out and she said “I’ll see you at 8” without ever telling me where we were meeting just like in the movies.” Peter said proudly.
“You should not be proud of that. Why don’t you just ask her out with your out loud words for once?” Ned asked him.
“Because the dynamic of our friendship will be-“
“-forever altered past the point of repair and things will eventually return to normal but never feel the same.” Ned groaned as ge finished Peter’s sentence. “Yes, I know. Thats always your excuse. But I really don’t think she’ll say no.”
“You don’t know that.” Peter insisted. “I can’t risk it.”
“Peter, it’s so obvious you guys like each other. She always laughs at your jokes and nobody, and I mean nobody, finds you funny. And I know you like her back because you stare at her all the time and got goosebumps that one time her ponytail hit you in the face.”
“It smelled like freedom and prosperity.” Peter whispered.
“So ask her out and smell her ponytail all the time.” Ned whispered back.
“I just can’t, okay? And I don’t even like her like that. So stop bringing it up.” Peter said and looked over at you again. He watched you leave a group of friends and walk over to him and Ned.
“But you guys obviously want to be together so why don’t you just be together?” Ned asked him.
“Because I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me, okay? That’s that.” Peter whispered harshly just as you sat down at their table.
“Hey guys. I’m pretty sure I just got a veinte out of one hundred on my Spanish quiz so.” You sighed and dropped your backpack on the table.
“Hi.” Peter’s blushed and smiled at you. Your bad mood quickly eviscerated and you smiled back.
“Hi Peter.”
“If you want, I can help you study for your next Spanish quiz. I took it last semester and did fairly bien.” Peter offered.
“Really?” You lit up. “Thanks, Pete. That would be so bien of you.”
“No problemo.” Peter said back.
“This feels…racist.” Ned mumbled as he watched the interaction.
“I, uh, I watched that movie you were talking about the other day.“ You told Peter with a nervous smile.
“You watched Alien? Did you like it?” Peter asked excitedly.
“I did but it made me kinda paranoid about, you know, aliens. But I liked the part when the alien came out of the guys chest. I never realized that scene was from that movie. I felt like I was finally in on the film bros inside jokes.”
“Yeah. I like that part too. I also like the part when he swam up the filters motor and stuck that pebble in there so the tank would get dirty and have to be cleaned, giving all the other fish a chance to escape.” Peter replied. It took you a minute to get it but when you did, you burst out laughing. Peter blushed at how hard you were laughing at his joke while Ned watched the interaction in disgust.
“That was not funny.” Ned shook his head. “Not even a little bit. It was a little criminal actually.”
“What? Yes it was. Peters always funny.” You insisted.
“Isn’t he though?” Ned faked a smile before rolling his eyes.
“Hey, back off. I liked the joke.” You defended Peter, making his blush deepen.
“Thank you. I like your jokes too.” Peter told you.
“Ugh.” Ned groaned. “This is revolting to watch. Why don’t you guys just get married already?”
“That’s not a bad idea.” You said. “We’d get a tax break, right? Whatever that means.”
“It’s when they break your taxes in half.” Peter answered.
“Oh, is that it?” You laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“I know because I took that accounting class freshman year. You weren’t in that class so you wouldn’t know.” He teased you.
“Hm. Is that the class they cancelled because not enough people signed up?” You teased back.
“Yep. That one.” He nodded. “Wow. The memory on you. You’d be an excellent gatherer if this was Hunter gatherer times.”
“Aw, Peter. That’s the nicest thing a guys ever said to me.” You smiled and touched your heart.
“If you liked that compliment I have like eight more in the chamber ready to go.” Peter told you.
“Oh my God. Just make out already. But not in front of my clementine.” Ned grumbled and peeled his clementine. You and Peter fell silent at his exclamation. Peter’s face burned with embarrassment while you avoided eye contact with either of them.
“I’m gonna go refill my water bottle. I’ll be right back.” You smiled awkwardly and quickly left the table.
“Nice job, Ned.” Peter hugged. “You just made her so uncomfortable she went to fill up a full water bottle.”
“I told you, dude. She obviously likes you. I was just pointing out the obvious.” Ned defended himself.
“She doesn’t like me.” Peter insisted.
“Are you kidding me? You just made a Finding Nemo joke and she actually laughed. Not even fake laugh. That was a genuine belly laugh at the worst joke I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. She’s down horrendous for you.”
“No, she’s not. She just sees me as a friend. And I don’t even like her like that so it doesn’t matter.” Peter lied in an effort to change the subject.
“You can’t hide the truth from your best friend. I see right through your lies. You like her. I know it and you know it. Why can’t she know it?” Ned asked.
“I told you to stop bringing it up.” Peter grumbled, growing frustrated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to bring this up but it was happening more than usual lately and all it did was remind Peter that you’d never be together.
“But-“
“I don’t like her, okay? I never did. I don’t think she’s pretty, I don’t find her funny, and I don’t want to be her boyfriend. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. I swear, I do not like her like that. I never have, and I never will. Okay?” Peter snapped. Little did he know, you had come back to the table and heard his whole outburst. You blinked a few times as your stomach sank but put on a brave face and sat down.
“I’m back.” You forced a smiled but didn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Peter’s eyes widened when you sat down and he looked at Ned.
“How much of that did you hear?” Peter asked you.
“How much of what?” You played dumb. You had to pretend you weren’t crushed that the boy you’d been pining after for years just very aggressively confirmed he didn’t like you.
“Nothing.” Peter lied and exchanged another look with Ned. Ned shrugged before changing the subject to move away from the moment entirely. You pretended to listen as you tried your best not to look as disappointed as you felt.
Once your break was over, you left the cafeteria and went for a walk around campus to clear your head. You ended up on a bench and sat down before taking a big sigh. You hadn’t noticed the guy that was sitting on the other end of the bench, but he certainly noticed you.
“Hey.” He said. You looked around for who he was talking to but found no one.
“Me, hey?” You asked and pointed to yourself.
“Yeah. You, hey.” He smiled and nodded his head.
“Oh. Hey.” You smiled back.
“I’m Drew.” He said.
“Y/n.” You said back.
“What’s the matter, Y/n? You look forlorn.”
“Oh, it’s stupid.” You waved your hand.
“Not to me. Tell me about it.” He insisted and scooted closer to you. You looked down at the lessened space between the two of you and laughed shyly.
“It’s nothing. I just overheard my friends talking about me.” You told him.
“Oh shit. Was it bad?”
“Not necessarily. But it didn’t make me feel good.”
“Damn. That sucks.” Drew said. You nodded in agreement and an awkward silence fell between you.
“I like that shirt.” He said suddenly and nodded towards your shirt.
“Oh, thanks. I borrowed it from a girl I didn’t even talk to anymore.” You replied as you pulled on the shirt.
“Finders keepers.” He shrugged. “You should wear it when I take you out.”
“Why would I wear a shirt you’ve already seen when we go out?” You laughed.
“So we’re going out?” Drew smiled.
“I guess we are.” You shrugged and realized you had just agreed to a date.
“Cool. I’ll pick you up Friday.” Drew winked at you before getting off the bench. You smiled at the unexpected interaction before realizing you had not gotten a single detail.
“Wait, pick me up where?” You called after him, but he was already gone. You slumped back in your seat on the bench and felt an equal mix of confusion and excitement. Maybe this new guy was exactly what you needed to forget about Peter.
The next day, you sat with Peter and Ned at your usual spot in the lunch room but barely paid attention to their conversation. Drew had found you on Instagram and you’d been talking to him all day. Peter had noticed your thumbs flying around your keyboard and the smile on your face and felt curious and ever so slightly jealous about who was making you smile like that.
“Is that good with you Y/n?” Ned asked you.
“Sorry, what?” You asked and put your phone down.
“We were saying we were gonna get chicken wings and watch the Trixi Mattel documentary.” Peter informed you.
“Again? And I can’t Friday.” You told them.
“Why not?” Peter asked.
“I have a date.”
Ned and Peter exchanged a looked before started to speak at the same time. They both stumbled over their words and spoke over each other as they gave you all their thoughts and opinions on why you should not go on this date. You tried to cut in but Ned kept listing Criminal Minds plot lines where women were murdered while Peter asked question after question about the guy.
“Slow down. One at a time.” You shouted over them and they both went silent. You pointed to Ned to signal that it was his turn to talk.
“You have a date? With a human boy?” Ned asked in disgust.
“Yeah. Is that surprising?” You asked, sounding a little hurt that they were so shocked.
“No.” Peter replied and looked at Ned to signal for him to say the same so that you wouldn’t be offended.
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“Ned.” Peter said warningly.
“His name is Drew.” You shrugged.
“Drew? What’s his brothers name, draw? Stupid fucking past tense ass bullshit name.” Ned grumbled.
“Jesus Ned.” You laughed. “It’s a normal name. It’s short for Andrew.”
“Andrew?” Peter scoffed. “What is he, an apostle?”
“I don’t think there was an apostle named. Andrew.” You stated. “I think they were all named Mark. And like, John or something.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” Peter waved his hand. “Why are you going on a date with this potential psychopath?”
“Because asked me on a date.” You said simply.
“And you said yes? When we don’t even know this guy. What if he’s into hardcore drugs and wants to use you as a drug mule for his next big drug operation?“
“He seemed fine.” You shrugged.
“So you’re gonna risk your life going on a date with this lunatic because he “seemed” fine? What if he’s a cannibal?” Ned asked.
“I don’t think he’s a cannibal. He was just sitting on a bench on his phone.”
“Oh my God. He sounds completely insane. Check the sex offender registry for his name right now.” Ned instructed Peter. Peter started typing his name into his laptop so you shut Peter’s laptop with a roll of your eyes.
“Why are you guys being insane? I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“I’m about to end my life over this.” Peter mumbled.
“Me too.” Ned added. “What even spurred this reckless decision?”
“I don’t know. A guy hasn’t shown interest in me in a while. This guy did so I took a chance. Is it really that crazy?”
“Yes.” Ned said immediately. “You’re ludicrous for this. You are absolutely Pitbull featuring Ludacris for this. Saying yes to a date with a stranger. This girl has lost her damn mind.”
“How else do you meet people?” You asked them.
“You don’t.” Peter said a sarcastic laugh. you threw your hands up in exasperation and Peter and Ned exchanged a look.
“What he means is, you should try asking a friend out. That way, you already know them and know you won’t get diced and quartered into a bunch of little pieces.” Ned said kindly.
“Why would he dice me and quarter me? Wouldn’t one or the either be enough?” You asked.
“Probably not for this lunatic.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous to suggest.
“I think you guys are over reacting. What if he’s just a nice guy wants to take me on a date?”
“No guy wants that.” Ned groaned.
“Wow. Thanks Ned.” You said sarcastically.
“What I meant was, Peter has something to say.” Ned said and pointed to Peter. Peter turned bright red and gave Ned an angry look.
“You do?” You asked Peter.
“No?” Peter replied.
“Right.” You smiled tightly and looked away from him, making Peter know he blew it.
“Where is the date?” Ned asked.
“I don’t know. Some frat house. He said his friend is having a party and he wants to take me.”
“A party? At a frat house? With underage drinking? Oh great. So this guy is a law breaker. He probably has an extensive criminal record already. And I bet it’s for the drug mule thing.” Ned insisted.
“We’re all 21. You literally turned 22 last week.” You reminded him.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation.” Ned brushed you off.
“What kind of first date is a party anyway? A girl like you deserves to be taken on a nice, well thought out date that doesn’t involve getting drunk around strangers. If I was the one taking you on a date, I’d make a picnic of your favorite snacks and we’d eat it on the rooftop of my apartment while the sun sets.” Peter stated.
“But you’re not the one taking me on a date. He is. He likes me, you don’t.” You said sharply, making everyone fall silent. You hadn’t meant to snap at Peter like that but it bothered you that he was aggressively putting down your date after rejecting you.
“What? Am I wrong?” You asked the table.
“Peter.” Ned whispered but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked at Peter again but he just couldn’t do it.
“No. You’re not wrong.” He said quietly. You nodded your head like you expected that before getting up from the table.
“I just wanted my friends to tell me they were happy for me. Instead, we just had one of the weirdest and least encouraging conversations I’ve ever been an apart of. I’ll see you guys later.” You grumbled and walked away.
“That went well.” Ned said once you were gone.
“She definitely overheard me. I totally hurt her feelings and drove her right into the arms of that cannibal drug mule. Why did I say those things?” Peter asked and rubbed his face in frustration.
“I don’t know man. I would have stopped at “I don’t like her” but you really went off.” Ned agreed.
“Because you were annoying me with how much you were asking.” Peter whined. “Oh God. What am I gonna do now? Shes gonna go to that party and fall in love with draw and forget all about me.”
“I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna find draw’s party and crash it. And you’re gonna woman up and tell her how you feel.”
“How are we gonna find his party? We’re not exactly good at attending parties.”
“I have my sources.” Ned smiled deviously.
“You’re just track her location on snap maps, aren’t you?” Peter sighed.
“Yeah, I’m just gonna track her on snap maps.” Ned admitted.
When Friday came around, Peter and Ned were glued to their phones as the tried to find out where you were. Luckily for them, you had been posting a plethora of pictures of the party to your Snapchat so they easily found where you were. Unlucky for Peter, Drew was featured in all of the pictures and you looked like you were having the time of your life. Peter swallowed down his jealousy and got dressed to go to the party. He rehearsed his speech for you in his head as he made his way through the crowd. He finally found you in the kitchen in the arms of a girl he didn’t recognize. Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you tried to go towards him but immediately tripped over your over feet.
“Peter!” You cheered and threw your arms around him. The girl who had been holding you let go of your waist while Peter looked at her in confusion. You stumbled into Peter and had a hard time keeping yourself up straight
“You know her?” The girl asked Peter.
“Yeah. She’s my best friend. What’s going on? Who are you? And where’s draw?”
“I’m Serita. I found her all by herself. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Well if it isn’t Peter Peter pumpkin eater. He actually doesn’t even like pumpkin flavored things. He doesn’t like me either. He made that very clear.” You laughed and clapped Serita on the back. Serita looked at Peter in amusement but he was too focused on how drunk you were.
“Are you drunk?” Peter asked in shock.
“What? No.” You scoffed and nearly fell over.
“She’s wasted.” Serita told him. “I got her to drink some water by telling her it was a big shot of vodka.”
“I’m just here to feel the heat with somebody.” You said and held your hands up in defense.
“I’ve never seen you drink this much. What happened?” Peter asked you.
“Psh. I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” You denied the obvious with a wave of your hand. The action caused you to stumble again and you had to grip Peter’s shirt to keep from going down.
“You can’t even stand up straight. Where’s draw?” Peter asked again and looked around the room for your date.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he left with that pretty red headed girl from our statistics class sophmore year. With that teacher who had that cat with a silly name. Remember him? What was the cats name?”
“Kitty puss.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“Kitty puss!” You cheered again and nearly dropped to the floor.
“I got you.” Peter said and tightened his grip on you. “But if he’s on on a date with you then why did he leave with another girl?”
“Because he didn’t get what he wanted from this girl?” You shrugged with a sad smile. Peter’s eyes darkened and he looked at Serita with a clenched jaw.
“What did he want?” He asked her.
“To get her drunk enough to lower her standards.” Serita stated. “That’s what he does to all the undergrad girls on this campus. Or at least, he tries to. Girls his age know better and stay away from him. But unfortunately for your best friend here, she didn’t know about his reputation.”
“Sterling Knight should have had a bigger career after Starstruck. He was funny and could sing. I never found him all that handsome but he had star power. He deserved more from Disney and I’ll die on that hill.” You interrupted their conversation to say.
“That’s nice, sweetie.” Peter smiled kindly at you before looking at Serita again. “I’m gonna take her to the bathroom and try to sober her up. Thanks for taking care of her. I’m glad she had a friend here.”
“Oh, I don’t know this girl. I just noticed she needed someone and stayed with her.” Serita explained. Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise before giving her a grateful smile.
“Oh. Well thanks for noticing. I got it from here.” He said before picking you up bridal style. You laughed gleefully and wrapped your arms around his neck, making Peter turn red again. Serita noticed this and stopped him.
“Hold on. How do I know I can trust you with her?” Serita asked. “What if you don’t even know her and you’re just trying to do what Drew was trying to do?”
“I promise I know her. Look. She’s my lock screen.” Peter said and showed Serita his lock screen which was a photo of the two of you.
“Best friend, huh?” Serita smirked.
“Please.” Peter whined. “I can’t hear it from you too. I’m an idiot and I know that. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“Well good luck. She’s been talking about “my Peter” all night.” Serita patted his back before walking away. Peter smiled at that before carrying you to the bathroom.
“Is this how Lady Gaga felt at the 2011 Grammys when they carried her in in that giant egg?” You asked as you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.
“We will never know how Lady Gaga felt while being carried in a giant egg at the 2011 Grammys. You’re just being carried by your idiot friend to a disgusting frat bathroom that probably has salmonella and syphilis all over it.”
“Romantic.” You chuckled and held Peter tighter. He shut the bathroom door behind the two of you before gently putting you down on the countertop. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet while you swung your legs.
“My tummy hurts.” You whined.
“I know. Take this.” Peter instructed and handed you Tylenol.
“Magic beans?”
“Tylenol. Drink this.” He chuckled and handed you back the cup of water from Serita. You chugged the water with the pills and wiped your mouth before giving Peter a sad smile.
“How do you feel? Do you need to puke?”
“No.” You shook your head. That action made you nauseous and you hopped off the counter to throw up into the toilet.
“I had a feeling that was gonna happen.” Peter mumbled.
“Don’t tell Kitty Puss about what a wreck I am.” You pleaded and threw up again.
“I won’t.” Peter laughed and held your hair back.
“I’m gonna die.” You whined and slumped against the bathtub. Peter sat down beside you and got the hair out of your face.
“You’re not gonna die.” He assured you. “You’re just gonna have really bad breath and carpet burn on your knees.”
“I hate carpet burn.” You said and started to cry. Peter had a feeling the tears weren’t just from the carpet burn so he wrapped his arms around you.
“It’s okay. Let it all out.” He said softly as he rubbed his hand on your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder for a minute before pulling away. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and wiped your tears for you.
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly as you stared down at your lap.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For going on this date.”
“No. I don’t want to hear that. You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Peter shook his head as he continued to dry your eyes. You pushed your hand away and held it so he would look at you.
“I do. I only went because I was mad at you. And I posted all those things because I wanted you to think I was having fun with another guy. But I wasn’t having fun. I was thinking about you the entire night.”
“Well you fooled me.” Peter chucked. “I thought you were halfway in love with this guy already. But why were you mad at me?”
“I heard you the other day. I heard you tell Ned you didn’t like me.” You admitted and gave him a sad smile.
“Oh, that’s not-“
“And it’s fine.” You cut him off. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you over that. It’s not your fault you don’t like me. We can’t help what we don’t feel.”
Peter stared into your eyes and saw a sadness he’d never seen you show before. You had sobered up a little but still weren’t completely there. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wanted you to be sober enough to remember it.
“So what happened to your date?” He changed the subject. You gave Peter a sad smile and shrugged your shoulders.
“He wasn’t much of a gentleman.” You admitted. Peters jaw clenched but he tried to remain calm for you same.
“Why do you say that?”
“I kept trying to talk to him and get to know him but all he wanted to do was get drunk. So I kept drinking whatever he handed me because I thought that would make me a more “fun” date.” You told him. You looked down at your dress and nervously fiddled with the hem of it. Peter stayed silent as he watched your eyes fill up with tears.
“I got all dressed up. I did my hair and my makeup. I tried to look pretty for him.” You said sadly. “But he didn’t even compliment me when he saw me. And he didn’t laugh at any of my jokes. I kept feeling like I was annoying him any time I asked him a question. But I was just trying to get to know him.“
“Well he’s crazy for not complimenting you. Because you look very pretty tonight.”
“Oh, please. My makeup’s running down my face and I probably have puke on my dress.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still the prettiest girl in this room.” Peter told you.
“I’m the only girl in this room.” You reminded him and pointed to the bathroom wall.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re the prettiest girl in any room you’re in.” Peter stated. That brought a smile out of you and you slipped your hand into his.
“You’re sweet.” You smiled in appreciation and gave his hand a squeeze. Peter squeezed you back before getting the hair off your forehead. You leaned into his hand and looked into his eyes.
“What happened tonight?“ He asked quietly.
“Well, once I was drunk enough for Drew’s liking, he asked me to go up to one of the bedrooms with him. I went because I thought it was because he wanted a more private place to talk. I thought he wanted to hear what I had to say. Imagine that? Imagine your date being interesting in something you had to say? But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t want to talk.” You laughed sadly before looking down at the floor with a heavy sadness.
“What did he want?” Peter asked and braced himself. You looked up and met Peter’s eyes with a sad smile.
“You know what he wanted.” You said softly. Peter gulped and nodded his head so you wouldn’t have to relive it. You let out a sigh and wiped your tears on the back of your hand.
“He didn’t even kiss me.” You laughed sadly. “He just shut the door and tried to unzip my dress. I pushed him away and yelled at him, and then he got upset that I was upset so he left me in there. I was too drunk to go after him so I just sat there for a while in the dark. By the time I came back down to the party, he was already making out with another girl.”
“What’s this guys problem? He got to take the most incredible girl in this city on a date and he blows it in every way possible? He’d be lucky to talk to you, let alone go out on a date with you. How could he not see what a privilege he had just to be near you?” Peter said with genuine anger.
“Thanks, Pete.” You chuckled and felt slightly better about the night. Peter was about to go off more until he saw the look on your face. You didn’t need to hear Peter’s gripe right now. You needed comfort.
“Should we kill him?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.
“I think so. Serita told me he’s got a bit of a reputation for this kind of thing. I had no idea.”
“I can’t believe Ned was right and this guy really was insane.” Peter said, making you laugh.
“I know. I guess this means we should listen to him more.” You laughed. Peter smiled at you before scooping you up again and kicking the door open.
“Woah. Where are we going?” You asked as he carried you straight out of the party.
“On a real date.” He replied and you fell silent. He carried you all the way to his apartment building and swung up to the roof.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and he slipped out of his button down. He draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm before racing downstairs.
When he returned, he had a picnic blanket, his portable Death Star night light, a lunchables pizza, and two bottles of water. You smiled as he laid the picnic blanket down before patted the space beside him. You sat down and he wrapped a blanket from his bed around the both of you. You cracked open your water bottle and downed it while he put together the lunchables. He handed you one of the pizzas and you did cheers before silently eating them as the sun began to rise.
“Are you enjoying your meal, madam?” Peter looked away from the sunrise to ask you.
“Why, yes I am. This is one of the finer lunchables I’ve ever eaten. Compliments to the chef.” You played along.
“The chef thanks you kindly.” Peter replied and you both laughed.
A comfortable silence fell between the two of you for a minute as you watched the sky become pink. Peter looked over at you and felt his heart ache over the way the sun was lighting up your face with a warm glow. You were holding your blanket tightly around your body to shield yourself from the morning air and had your eyes shut to let the night wash away from you. Peter knew in that moment he was in love and it could not be unspoken any longer.
“So, uh, remember when we were in the bathroom before and you said we should listen to Ned more?” Peter began.
“That doesn’t sound like something I would say. But I guess so. Why?” You wondered and looked over at him. Peter looked you in the eyes and gulped.
“Ned was actually right about a second thing.”
“Two things? Is he going for a personal record?” You laughed. When you saw that Peter wasn’t laughing, you stopped smiling.
“What is it, Pete? Something bad?”
“No. Not bad. Just, um, just a little clarification, I guess.” Peter began.
“Clarification about what?”
“I know you heard me telling Ned that I didn’t like you. And I know that it hurt your feelings. Which I totally understand why it would. It was overkill. But what you overheard the was my frustrated attempt to get Ned to stop insisting that I liked you.”
“Oh. Okay.” You said slowly and never took your eyes off him. Peter stared into your eyes for the last time before everything changed.
“And the only reason he keeps insisting that is because it’s true. He was trying to get me to tell you how I felt and I snapped at him because I was scared that if I ever did tell you how I felt, you wouldn’t feel the same.” Peter finished. You stared at him for a long time but Peter couldn’t read your expression. You were definitely pensive but he didn’t know if you were upset with him or relieved to know the truth. You turned your face back towards the sunrise and stared out at it.
“Hm.” You hummed.
“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” Peter asked nervously.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about that part in the movie Alien when the two main characters get directions from that school of fish and all the fish take the shape of an arrow to show them which way to go.” You said very seriously. Peter shook his head before cracking up laughing.
“Wow. Ned must be on a roll because hearing my own joke repeated back to me makes me realize how unfunny it was.” He admitted, making you laughing.
“I still laughed.” You shrugged. “Even if it wasn’t funny.”
“You did.” He realized with a smile.
“Probably because I like you so much.” You shrugged again and stopped looking at the sunrise to look at him. Peters smile grew and he reached over to hand your hand in his. All that pining and anticipation had led to that moment of you finally admitted how you felt about each other.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Thats probably why.”
Tag list 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
#peter parker x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker friends to lovers#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#Peter Parker best friends to lovers#peter parker x best friend!reader
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts#been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2#how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs#really just getting to know these characters as a pairing#most importantly before seeing them as a couple#seeing them as friends#how they would genuinely interact and get along#what their dynamics would look like#steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart#coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical#anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you#more so just#eddie didn’t die steddie for you#they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have#it just makes sense#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things 4#stranger things season 4#robin buckley#dustin henderson#also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this#steddie fic#steddie fic idea#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfiction
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I was gonna make this post way way earlier but I forgot lol but Uhm
I have played through the splatoon 2 story fully and am replaying it (for a future post bc a lot of the dialogue is rlly funny) and honestly while I absolutely loved it it makes me even sadder that splat 2’s story mode was kinda tossed aside (for valid reasons ofc) because it’s so Cool.
Excluding the gameplay, I think they did marie so well, because she sells the desperation of someone who’s got nobody she knows by her side. While she of course keeps the sassy attitude of sneak dissing her best friends (agent 3) and also telekinetically telling you to fuck off if you talk to her too much it’s very clear she genuinely cares so much about agent 4 and is so grateful they’re doing what they do.
these are only two screenshots of 8(?) of Marie randomly being really sentimental to 4 because this stranger chose to help her in her time of need rather than just ignore this GROWN WOMAN hanging out on a sewer drain
It’s like heavily emphasized multiple times that Marie could not be more grateful for 4’s help in retrieving not just the zapfish but also her cousin.
But then revealing that 4 knew about Callie the WHOLE TIME (I have a lot to say about this part but it’s mostly hc so) which is so KIND OF THEM???? this random woman recruits them into a secret military agency and hides the fact she rlly misses her cousin but they help anyway bc they WANT TO. (They didn’t even know either of them were famous btw) Marie shows a lot of gratitude toward 4 ESPECIALLY after the big reveal.
(You could make arguments for 3 being similar bc an old kook made them do it but this isn’t about them..)
And it’s not just being grateful for the one time, she genuinely enjoys 4’s company and wants to be better friends with them and chat after the zapfish and Callie are saved 😭😭😭
It’s so cute too, because 100%ing the game and even just being a little nosy is something that Marie picks up on, and remembers way later in the game. (More abt this later)
god I love this socially inept squid woman and her adopted child soldier that likes finding pieces of paper
Speaking of said soldier! I think the way they characterized 4 via the actual gameplay rather than art/statements/whatever is so cool
4 doesn’t have many illustrations besides the chaos splatfest and that one group photo where they’re being funky in the corner (and the apartment) but I feel like the reason for that is the fact that a lot of Marie’s dialogue as well as how splatoon 2’s hero mode is structured/designed speaks a lot about how they wanted to represent 4.
From a realistic standpoint, of course splatoon 2’s story mode has to be more creative both prompt wise and secret wise. But it feels like the reason its that way is because both 4 and Marie are separate types of people from Craig and 3.
The bosses help a lot with this too, being more gimmicky and weird (subtracting stamp.) Octo shower and samurai being bosses where you have to either react well or change your positioning to effectively beat them. (Octo shower is my fave btw I loved fighting it the first time)
The level design also shines in this aspect because if I’m honest I remember none of the splat 1 levels significantly besides the few octoling ones. Splatoon 2’s levels are very detailed (and also insanely pretty) and have some rlly fun puzzles in a handful of them and even the more fast ones are a blast to play through
And then all the little extras (sardiniums and scrolls alike) are hidden so well and you usually have to go out of your way to find them and even the secrets that aren’t either of those things have substance
Small note, a lot of extras are also made so that it flows well with the levels design (like the first dualie request mission) which is also extremely fucking cool.
the way marie touches on those little discoveries is so smart too because it (as I said before) characterizes 4 as someone who loves to look for things even if it’s on a whim especially since the sunken scrolls in the game are so much harder to find than in splat1.
And the fact that unlike splat 1, you can (technically) 800% the game by playing EVERY SINGLE LEVEL WITH EVER SINGLE WEAPON TYPE. to me it feels like it deepens the fact that 4 likes to be really thorough. marie goes “you have a problem.” When you break like two hidden egg crates in this one level and it’s so great.
I love what they’ve done with 4, whether it was intentional or I’m over-analytical.
Nothing gets past them, looking in every nook and cranny whether or not there’s secrets to be found. They’re too nosy and thorough and they like to be around marie after completing missions, they don’t know who the squid sisters are, hate balloons, may or may not be ok, have impulsive secret finding, partake in many extracurriculars, can be needy at times, go with the flow and they apparently smell better than agent 3.
Agent four, of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.
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Stank Prank
BRAAAAAP
“Whoooooo! That was a BIG ONE!”
I cringed and plugged my nose as I leaned over my paper. Brayden was at it again. He had brought his nasty friends over and was having a farting contest with them. I didn’t understand why he had to be my roommate. Why couldn't he be staying at one of the nasty frat houses or with his other jock friends? Why did I have to be the one who was forced to listen (and smell) an orchestra of farts and burps while I studied. I tried talking to the housing department about it, begging for a different roommate. I would have taken literally anybody else, but they said that there was nothing they could do. I was stuck with him.
Ever since the day I first moved into the dorm, I had been subjected to the tortures of Brayden’s flatulence. Over time I had gotten mostly accustomed to the smell (a bucket full of air fresheners helped to keep my room mostly stench free), the sound is something I could never get used to.
BUUURRRPP
“Man that was NASTY!”
Even with my door closed, earbuds in, and focusing on studying, I couldn’t escape it. Enough was enough, I slammed open the door and stared angrily at the trio of jocks sitting on the couch and laughing their asses off.
“Look who finally came out to join us!” Brayden stood up, his massive 6’4 figure towering over me. “The nerd emerges from his cave.”
“Would it really kill you to put on some deodorant? Or maybe a visit to the doctor would be more beneficial, all of that farting and burping can’t possibly be normal.”
“You’re disgusting.” I said bitterly, “But then again I’m not surprised, I wouldn’t expect anyone other than a group of dumb, hairy animals to smell the part.” Brayden’s two friends snickered and made overexaggerated gasping sounds. I allowed myself a bit of a smirk, maybe this’ll put that jock into his place.
Brayden seemed unfazed by my insults. “You know, I really wish you were more like us, man. You’d be really fun to have around. Plus, you look like you could pull off some NASTY shit.”
“I’d rather do anything then regress to your level.” I huffed and slammed my door shut, muffling the sounds of their laughter.
The next evening I came back to the dorm to find the place abandoned, no sign of Brayden or his dumb friends. I sighed, finally I would be able to be alone and get some studying done in peace and quiet. I closed my bedroom door and set down my stuff. Better get started before-
BRAAAAAP
I jumped out of my seat, was that me, or was that Brayden announcing his entrance? Further inspection revealed that there was nobody at the front door, which had to mean… Before I could even begin to imagine how Brayden would have reacted if he could have heard that, I spotted something red on the chair. I walked over and picked it up, a whoopie cushion.
“Verrrrry funny, Brayden.” I said aloud. “But if you think that-” I was interrupted as a pungent smell assaulted my nostrils. The whoopie cushion, there’s no way it could have created a smell right? I squeezed it again.
BRAAAAAP
Yup, it was definitely the whoopie cushion. But how was that even possible? And how did it smell that bad? I put the whoopie cushion down on the floor. There was probably some kind of fake fart spray coating the thing. Now, back to work, I really didn’t want to waste any more quiet time before-
BUUURRRPP
“Little bro I’m back!”
Fuck.
I started walking towards the door, exams were coming up and I really needed to study so I was prepared to BEG for some silence. As I made my way across the room, I tripped over the whoopie cushion
BRAAAAAP“Whoa little bro, that was a nasty one!”
The smell tripled in intensity, as I tried to get back up to open a window, my legs gave out and I fell back down onto the cushion.
BRAAAAAP
My eyes began to water. Every inhale of the pungent stink was making me feel lightheaded. After some struggling, I managed to stand up, I felt woozy, like I had inhaled laughing gas. It was getting harder to think, so hard, why think at all? I blinked. What was I SAYING? I tried to hold my breath as I opened the door, but found myself breathing heavily as the fumes coursed through my body. I flung open the door and stumbled into- my bathroom? Wasn’t I trying to leave my room? I’m so stupid I must have gone to the wrong door by mistake, heh. What the fuck was happening? As I tried to collect my thoughts, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked… good. My arms and chest appeared bigger and more toned and I felt taller. It must the the smell making me see things there’s no way-
BRAAAAAP
…
That one came from me.
BRAAAAAP
That one too.
With each fart, I found myself getting taller, more muscular and toned. My pale computer nerd body melted away into a sporty physique.
“Come on little bro don’t you understand? You’re no fun, so I have to make you fun. I can’t believe that whoopie cushion actually worked! But the rest is up to me now. Did you know you REEK?”
I sniffed my armpits, they smelled awful. I began searching through the cupboards for some deodorant.
“Not that you care anyways.”
BRAAAAAP
That's right, I didn’t care. I loved my smell, I lived in it. Why would I want to get rid of it?
“You love being a stinky, smelly jock”
BRAAAAAP
“A dumb, stinky, smelly jock”
BRAAAAAP
“A stupid, dumb, stinky, smelly jock.”
BRAAAAAP
With each inhale I found myself agreeing with Brayden. With each fart I found my old self laving.
BRAAAAAP
BRAAAAAP
BRAAAAAP
I was always a dumb, smelly jock.
I loved being a dumb smelly jock.
I began to take off my clothes.
Being dumb is so nice, no worries, no cares.
It feels so good to reek and smell like a man.
Each time Brayden repeated it, I found myself sinking deeper. My mind completely clouded over.
So dumb, so smelly.
I walked over to the couch and lay back on it, lifting my pits to let my smell permeate the room.
“Isn’t that so much better?” Brayden asked, “It feels so good to be stupid and smelly, just like us.”
BRAAAAAP
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would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.
Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!!
Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3
I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3
TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3
PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist
Regular masterlist
I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…
I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone.
One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends.
It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.
This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage.
He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly.
The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..
Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well.
He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be.
He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence.
Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment.
These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour.
It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt.
But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?
I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?
Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”
You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful.
First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary….
But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do.
Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!
Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.
They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like.
You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up.
Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load.
Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen
After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you
Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost
Age: 36
Joined: December 26th, 2021
Letters Received: 0
Time served: 3 and a half years
Sentence ends: Year and a half
Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak.
Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android.
Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out.
Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him…..
So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..
I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(
Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter.
When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed.
But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”
I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key.
Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man.
But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)
After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter.
“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”
His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle!
You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…
Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :(
When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(
“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)”
And of course you did!! He asked so politely!
Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((
You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(
You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body.
After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for
Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible.
Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least
When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((
Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:(
His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you
He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((
You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3
Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(
He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(
That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.
Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise.
You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!
Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(
Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real
His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….
He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….
In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(
Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)
!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)
Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune
Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors
#PrisonPenPal!Simon#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#simon ghost riley imagines#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley imagine#call of duty modern warfare#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mw2#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon riley x y/n#ghost call of duty#cod headcanons#fanfiction#fanfic#cod au
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perv chan content coming up u say👀👀how funny considering that i’ve been having perv skz brainrot for days🤭consider this for me rq.
so we know from that one 2 kids room how channie loves feeling needed right? combine that with the clothes stealing trope and u get:
perv roommate channie who steals your clothes from your room to get off with because the smell of you makes him fucking dizzy. and there’s an added bonus—he knows you’re gonna come to him, tearing up and face flushed from frustration, begging him to pretty please, help me find my favourite pair of lace panties, i’ve looked fucking everywhere! how can he say no to you, when you’re begging so pretty, when you want his help so bad? he just has to be a good friend and search the place with you (no, it’s not because the feeling of you asking him, needing him and nobody else makes his head spin and his pants tighten). don’t forget to bend down and look in that corner over there!
and if he’s memorizing every inch of those pretty teary eyes, imagining how much more they’d water while you’re choking on his cock, or if he’s shamelessly watching that cute ass of yours as you get on your knees and bend over in those obscenely revealing shorts you love wearing around the house? if he strokes himself later that night to the image of you grinding your soaking cunt against him, pleading with him to fuck you stupid in that adorably whiny voice?
well. that’s nobody’s business but his own, is it?
mwah love u !
-🍒 anon
perv!chan who's unhealthy obsession with feeling needed has his cock aching every time you're begging him to help you look for your stolen panties because what? my y/n needs me? she's relying on me? only me?
chan finds himself entranced when you rush to him, breathing heavily and teary-eyed because he can't prevent his depraved brain from thinking about how you'd pant and cry even more when he's fucking into you deep and rough with zero intentions to stop. he can't stop thinking about how you'd cling onto his strong, buff arms, mewling and hiccupping against his mouth, sniffling cutely, begging him to make you cum. begging him to cum inside you and stuff you full. you need it after all, don't you? only channie can contain all that fussing, right? maybe he should stuff your mouth full with his cock right after to keep you from whining!
let's not think about how he'd graze his clothed cock against your ass as you're bent over! he feels so guilty; you're genuinely upset about those stupid, flimsy lace panties that drive him insane too, but he's far too greedy to give them back. either way, he can't give them back now! not when they're soiled with his warm, sticky cum, carefully concealed under his pillow; not when they're beside your cum stained plushie! it smells so much like you! did you push your tits against the cute toy? did you grind your insatiable cunt against it? just one more time. one more load and he'll give them back. should he wash them before doing so? or should he leave his filthy cum on them for you to see?
he'll just have to buy you a new ones that he'll eventually steal again, i fear!
#who else gaf 😂😂😂 totally not me 😂😂😂#losing it rn#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#skz smut#skz x reader#bang chan hard hours#bang chan hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#answered#🍒 anon
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orange juice (fic)
jj maybank x fem!reader | inspired by noah kahn's incredible music
content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of abuse; mentions of bodily harm (vague, non-graphic); sexual content | feel free to message me with questions of detail if any of this concerns you before reading!
word count: 7.5k
blurb: in the most unlikely of settings, you and JJ reunite after five years apart in radio silence.
“You know, on my way here, I saw a dead rat.”
A cloud of cigarette smoke dispels into the air.
“It was funny, you know? Cause I felt bad that it was dead, even though it was a rat. I mean, I knew nobody was going to miss it, and that it didn’t have any rat family or friends which would mourn it or anything. But still…It looked like it had been hit by a car, and it was only small so it didn’t look very old, and it seemed so harmless lying there. It probably had a million and one diseases, but just laying there, it seemed harmless. And it felt weird to be sad about this thing dying which would have only maybe caused more damage if it had stayed alive – nibbling through electrical wires and all that.”
JJ takes another drag of his cigarette as he digests the anecdote.
“Anyway. This just made me think of that,” you quietly finish before sinking back into the silence.
“Did you just compare my dad’s funeral to a dead rat?”
You clear your throat. JJ watches in his peripheral as you look down at your feet and fidget your fingers.
“Shit, I guess I did.”
His eyes cut ahead the moment yours seem to flick up.
“Can’t believe that’s the first thing I’ve said to you in years.”
JJ inhales and exhales the nicotine of his cigarette. “Well, I can.”
That makes you laugh. Small and sheltered.
“I weren’t sure that you were going to come,” JJ tells you.
“Could say the same thing to you,” you reply.
Sighing, he drops the cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He probably should have worn smarter shoes. But then, why would he? Waste of money and space in his truck. Not like his dad was going to see them anyway.
“I only decided yesterday. Practically drove all night.” As if reminding himself of the sleep deprivation, JJ lets out a yawn.
“How is it, being back in Kildare?” you wonder.
JJ shrugs. “Weird. But also not weird at all. I guess I just feel old. I was driving through town and everything looks different.”
“I mean, it has been five years.”
“Jesus,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head. Had it really been that long?
He shoves his hands in his pant pockets and finally finds the nerve to take you in. His eyes scan over you like one might survey potential damage to a car after a close call. He never lets them go below your waist though. As if losing nerve, he flicks them back up to your head and meets your eyes.
“You look well.”
“Thanks. Right back at ya,” you smile.
With that smile – sweet and simple – JJ finds himself being hurled back through time to his teen years. The reminiscing of his youth and the memories that your presence stirs up feels like reflecting on a past life. Something that he almost had, and something that he didn’t exactly lose, but something that changed.
Everything had changed, really. The streets that he used to drive down with his friends, running away from security and darting to and from keggers and house parties, they all had new homes, new paint, new families. Old mom-and-pop shops were now trendy smoothie spots and hippie bars. Empty plots of land that were a good spot to share a joint had now been bought and developed into stylish holiday rentals. None of JJ’s family was left here, not even his cousin. None of his friends were here anymore either. Well, except for you. Is that what you were to him? A friend?
“It was a nice service,” you say.
“Was it?”
For someone like Luke Maybank, ‘nice’ is probably a generous term for a funeral service that’s void of cheery anecdotes and tender memories. It’s a shame that all the memories JJ held in high regard of his father – of the moments that they were bonded and close – often came with the overarching theme of alcohol or drugs. He wasn’t sure there was ever a genuine moment shared between the two. Whatever praise and pride he gathered from his dad was short lived and sparse. When his dad left the island on the boat he stole, JJ never heard from him again. And now he never would.
“Did they ask if you wanted to say anything?”
“What’s there to say? He was a guy and he died in a bender. Short and simple, I guess.”
You nod and go silent once more.
JJ knows that his answer evaded the politeness markers of small talk, but it was true. Luke Maybank was a human who lived on this earth with no mark to be left apart from those which he laid on his own child. The only way that he’d be remembered was in the nightmares that still sometimes have JJ waking up in cold sweats and reaching for the box of cigarettes by his bed.
“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have come,” you say.
“No, it’s not…” JJ shakes his head and offers you a smile, but he knows it looks unnatural. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling right now. Perhaps everything, if that’s even possible. “I’m glad you came. I’m just tired and…well, you know.”
The funeral of my father.
“Right. Of course.”
He watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and glance towards the graves. He remembers how you used to do that when you were both younger. It was funny to him: you’d go through the fuss of trying your hair back in one way or another, but you’d always leave out a couple of strands. “To frame my face” you’d tell him, and then you’d precede to spend the rest of the day tucking your hair behind your ears. He liked it though. When you’d be concentrating on something, like surfing or fixing something up or writing, you’d lean forward and they’d come lose and hang over your pretty features. He’d want to mess with them; tuck them behind your ears for you. Sometimes he did. He remembers when you’d be on top of him, kissing him senseless, and they’d come lose and tickle his face. Somehow it would make the whole thing more sensual, with his laughs and your giggles.
He feels his face flush as the memories of nights like those creep back into his head. He shouldn’t think of you like that, not after all this time. Not with how things turned out. And especially not at his father’s funeral.
JJ had come over to you once his father was safely tucked away in the ground, six feet under. You’d attended the service at the church, hiding near the back, and then the burial, and as everybody else departed to give JJ ‘a moment’ (whatever the hell that meant), he’d turned to find you stood near a bench, lost in thought.
“It was nice of you to come,” JJ thanks.
“I’m surprised none of the others are here.”
“They don’t know. I sort of kept it close to the chest,” JJ admits. “I’m actually impressed by the turnout.”
You go to laugh and JJ sees you stifle it. It helps him ease up, smile a real smile for a second, as wicked as that sounds.
“People have layers, I guess.”
“Not my dad.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
You meet his gaze again. Your eyes make it clear that you haven’t shed a tear and neither had JJ. He wasn’t sure if maybe that would come later, once the so-called shock had worn off. He doubted it though. And yet, there was a haze of sadness about him. Death is weird as a whole. The death of a parent like JJ’s, even weirder. Maybe it wasn’t just the funeral causing the sadness. Maybe it was you.
JJ makes a move to leave but before he can even shift his foot one whole step, you’re talking.
“Do you wanna come back to mine? We could catch up. I’m sure you’ve been doing all sorts since I last saw you. Maybe have a drink or two, for old times’ sake?”
“Oh, I don’t drink anymore.”
“Oh,” you say. A pause for thought, then, “well, I have orange juice.”
It’s a strange thing to offer in place of a bottle of beer or glass of wine. Most people would say a cup of coffee. But no - orange juice: that’s where your mind went. It makes JJ smile. It seems so on-par for you to offer him that.
“Okay. Sure. Orange juice sounds good.”
“Do you need a moment, before we leave?” you ask, glancing back over your shoulder to the gravesite of JJ’s deceased father.
The dirt atop of his plot is fresh and stark brown against the green grass. JJ stares a second. The groundkeeper is dusting some muck off the gravestone. The funeral director had offered him a fine granite with award winning chiselling, after recognising JJ from the articles of El Dorado and assuming some high-placed budget. JJ had opted for a simple thing though. Cheap and likely to be hard to read within half a decade. It’s what Luke deserved. Probably what he would have invested into JJ, if the roles were reversed.
“No, I don’t. We can go,” JJ says, voice vacant. He looks back to you. “I’ll drive.”
You don’t live in your childhood home anymore. The place that you’ve settled in is a small home in a sweet looking neighbourhood. In fact, it seems the only part of Kildare that feels familiar to JJ. The front garden is quaint but well kept, with trimmed grass and flower beds that clearly garner a lot of attention and care. The fence is in need of a lick of paint: the blue fading and peeling. A sticky note is attached to the door frame of the front door and it makes JJ smile. ‘Doorbell’s fucked – shout “ding dong” really loud’.
“This is a step up,” JJ says.
“Nice, right? My neighbour is a dick though. Always complaining that I leave my driveway light on in the middle of the night. As if I can even afford to that.”
JJ chuckles as he follows you inside. There’s an instant warm smell that hits him. JJ can’t seem to describe it in any other way than that it smells like you. The interior is safe and homely. The wallpaper and wooden floors pair nicely with the throw pillows and crystals and plants and flowers. Fairy lights are strung from end to end. A kitchen, open plan, feeds nicely into a sitting room. A dining table is tucked in the corner which seemingly functions more as a desk: books piled atop with sheets of paper strewn out. There’s a small corridor to the right and the walls are lined with framed pictures which JJ can’t make out from where he’s stood. He assumes it must lead to a bathroom and bedroom. It isn’t unlived in though. There’s a small pile of clothes which need ironing; they’re sat in a basket, next to the TV. Near the backdoor is an arts and crafts project of some kind strewn about on the floor in organised chaos, blocking the exit.
It's still early in the afternoon so you don’t bother flicking on a light, instead opting to soak in the last few hours of daylight before dusk. Kie used to compare you to a cat, basking in the sun and chasing the rays until there was none left to follow.
JJ closes the door behind him and leans against it.
“You can take your shoes off, if you want.”
“Alright,” he mumbles. He toes them off and kicks them to the side, amongst a pile of your own. He notices how there’s nobody else’s shoes there: just yours, and now his.
You pour out two glasses of orange juice and turn around, handing one to him. He takes it, lost in thought. It all feels surreal, stood here with you, after a five-year pause. When you go to the sofa to sit, he assumes he should follow. You sit on opposite ends. A part of him wonders why you haven’t stretched out your legs and dumped your feet in his lap. ‘These stink’, JJ jokes, poking your toes. You wiggle his fingers off. ‘Shut up, no they don’t.’ Force of habit: he always seems to get stuck on that past. Instead, you go to pull one of your legs up onto the sofa, and JJ flicks his eyes around the room another time. He sips his juice.
“So…” You start. “Any news?”
“Well, my dad died, so there’s that.”
You kick out your leg, aiming for his thigh. “Come on now. Be serious.”
“I am; you were at the funeral. Thought you might remember that,” JJ jokes.
Rolling your eyes mirthfully, you have a sip of your juice. The sun paints shapes on the coffee table, weaving through the thin curtains that line your window. It makes your skin glow, healthy and happy. He’s torn between staring at your face and remembering every detail of your features and avoiding you completely.
“When did you move in here? It’s nice.”
“About two years ago. Mom and dad are still at the old place. They’ve rented out my room though, for tourists and stuff.”
“That’s nice of them,” JJ snorts. “How’s your brother? Is he doing good?”
“He is. He’s at college actually. Graduates later this year.”
“The fuck? That’s so trippy,” JJ mumbles, almost to himself.
JJ can remember your brother as nothing more than a preteen, sulking around the house and begging for rides to soccer practice. Now he’s nearly got a whole ass degree. His eyes naturally fixate on the dining-table-come-desk in the corner.
“What do you do for work then?”
“I’m a teacher at Kildare high.”
Of course you are. JJ smiles, eyes still fixated on the table. It seems to prompt you to continue.
“It’s kinda weird sometimes cause some of the old farts still work there,” you say.
“Oh shit. Mr Rumble still there?” JJ asks, perking up a little, meeting your gaze.
You laugh. “Mr Rummel does still work there, yeah. Still likes to bring you up to me, actually.”
“Really? In what way?”
“Just likes to add the odd little ‘you remember when your boyfriend used to steal my stapler’ kinda things.”
JJ’s laugh is different this time. The word ‘boyfriend’ coming out of your mouth has his thoughts short circuiting. You glance down at your juice and swirl it around the cup.
“Anyway, it’s a pretty good gig. I like teaching, and I actually think I’m making a difference to some of these kids lives sometimes, which is sort of strange.”
“I bet you are. You were always good at helping people,” JJ tells you. Your smile turns soft.
“Thanks, JayJ.”
The nickname is like another sucker punch to the chest. JJ takes it like a champ. Washes it down with water; pretends there’s vodka in there somewhere.
“How are the others, then?” you ask. “How are they?”
“Good. Happy. John B and Sarah are expecting a kid soon.”
“Fuck off.”
“No joke,” JJ laughs. He leans back into the sofa, reclining in the soft throw pillows. It’s strange how easily relaxed he is in this new setting. “They’re debating between two names. Esmeralda or Eton.”
“No. Please God, tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish,” JJ snorts. “Not that I got much of a leg to stand on.”
“What do you mean?” you frown. You lean over and place your juice down on the coffee table.
“JJ? Kinda dumb name.” JJ has a sip of his own before mirroring your actions.
“Hardly. ‘John James’ is pretty proper sounding to me.”
“Meh.” JJ shrugs and props an arm up on the back of the sofa.
“What about Kie, and Pope?”
“Kie is on her environmentalist shit. Investing in rebuilding the coral and things. Pope is studying like crazy. Got a good job lined up too.”
“Only Pope would get a degree when he has literal gold in his savings,” you chuckle. “Didn’t you buy a shop too, or something?”
“A little surf shop with John B, yeah,” JJ nods, smiling proud. The surf shop is something that he would always take pride in. What felt like a pipedream was now his nine-to-five. “It’s doing real good, actually. We’re thinking about expanding.”
“Well, that’s good,” you say, nodding. The two of you lock eyes. Your smile holds steady. “I’m happy for you, JJ. Really.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I’m glad you’re doing good, too.”
And now the polite small talk is over and the catch-up is done. It’s so bizarre seeing someone again after so long. So many things in life have passed – relationships, jobs, fights, conversations, achievements, ailments – but when you finally come to sum it up, it only takes ten minutes. Going through a heartbreak lasts for months, but then a year later and the relationship is summed up in a sentence or two. Time doesn’t only heal, but it also shrinks. It seems to have shrunk whatever used to exist between yourself and JJ too, as you both sit, searching for things to talk about which avoid the dark and ugly. Things which avoid the obvious.
“Do you think you’ll stick around in Kildare for a bit?”
“I don’t know. I ain't really thought about it,” JJ admits. “I weren't even sure if I was gonna go to the funeral.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” you wonder.
He laughs to himself and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. Probably just crash in my truck.”
“You’re loaded as fuck and you’re gonna crash in your truck?” you laugh. It isn’t mean when you say it. Just amused.
“I don’t know. You don’t really get used to having money when you grew up without it. I still feel guilty buying a new pair of boots or something when my old ones ain't coming apart at the soles and shit.”
You nod. “That makes sense. Eminem had a similar thing.”
“Yeah, I’ve always thought me and Eminem were similar,” JJ deadpans.
It seems to strike well with you because you’re cracking up, laughing like he’s just told the best joke you’ve ever heard. He smiles. He always liked making you laugh. You have a horrendous laugh: truly awful. Cats in a bag being bashed against the wall-howling dog parade level of terrible. JJ loved it though. He used to tickle you just to hear it. Watching you now, head titled back, eyes shut and mouth agape, guffawing like a damn hyena…He feels like throwing up.
“Sorry, that…That was good,” you chuckle, wiping your eyes and catching your breath. “You were always good at making me laugh.”
“Fuck knows why,” JJ chuckles.
“Cause you’re funny,” you reply, as if its obvious. “You were always funny.”
It’s strange how the tone of the conversation rises and falls like a mountain range the longer the two of you sit on the sofa.
Your smile turns sombre, like when someone reminisces over a funny memory of their dead pet. Nice at first, amused, and then dampened with the reminder that those times have passed.
“It’s weird, to be honest. You’re so different now but you’re also still JJ.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. You glance around the room for a moment, as if you’d find the answer hidden in code on the spine of the books stacked on the windowsill. You look at him again. “Your face looks different.”
“It does?” JJ asks. He lifts a hand and strokes his jaw. He could do with a shave, he supposes. The vanity tries to bite through to ask how, but before he can, you’re talking again.
“You don’t drink,” you add, nodding to the orange juice still sat on the coffee table. “You’re quieter. Less…”
You seem to lose the words and so you gesture with your hands. Explosion.
“Calmer. Sadder, but not sad.”
“I can’t tell if these are good things or not,” JJ says, half-joking.
“You look at me different too.”
That makes him pause. He meets your eyes and holds your gaze, steady. The whole room shifts in a moment, from carefree catch-up to tense confrontation.
“Different?”
“Yeah. You look at me different.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” JJ mutters, going to reach for his drink.
“Yes, you do, JJ.”
Your smile is gone now. He can tell, catching it from his peripheral. Suddenly he doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want to be in Kildare, doesn’t want to be in this house, in this room.
“You could at least acknowledge it, you know?”
“I don’t understand—”
“It’s actually more rude to not acknowledge it,” you snip.
“I’m not being rude, I’m just making conversation. You’re the one who’s got me on blast like you’re some God damn therapist,” JJ hits back, meeting your steely stare.
“You feel like you’re on blast?”
“I feel like I’m being observed, that’s for fucking sure.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe you are being observed, JJ,” you return, voice harsh and cutting like how a blade slices through paper. “Because it’s fucking weird having you back.”
“You’re the one that invited me here.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” you say.
JJ takes a breath and closes his eyes. The anger never went away, despite what you’ve just told him, he just got older. Got better at hiding it. Got enough money to try therapy. He takes another moment to breathe through it. Push it down his throat and back into his stomach and let it burn out in the acid.
“I’m sorry,” you quietly say. The venom is gone. “I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”
He isn’t sure why – can’t pinpoint a perfect reason behind it – but behind his eyelids, JJ feels tears swell. Feels his lips twitch like a child when they hit their funny bone. His next breath in is shaky.
“JJ?”
“Just…”
His voice cracks and he clears it, shaking his head. He wants to open his eyes but he’s scared he’ll start crying, and he’s not doing that, not right now, not today. It’s not even you. You’d seen him cry before. Held him through it and patched him up; made him smile after the sadness. But he refuses to cry today because he can’t give his dad that satisfaction, even if it’s not about him. Opening his eyes, no tears escape. He reaches for the juice and downs it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” he snaps. Then, softer, “please.”
You nod. There’s a quiet. Then, you move to stand and he closes his eyes again because it’s a struggle for you to stand. It’s a struggle. He rubs a hand over his mouth as if trying to shove the welling emotions back inside. There’s the sound of running water in the background as JJ tries to gather himself. The crack-crack-crack of a gas stove turning on and then the clink of metal on metal. You’ve put the kettle on, boiling water. There’s the tinker of porcelain mugs being taken off a stand. He seems to zone in on the peaceful sounds of you making coffee.
When you pour water into the mugs, he remembers the sound of your voice years back. ‘Did you know humans have the ability to hear the difference between hot and cold water being poured?’ ‘Why the fuck do you know that?’ ‘I don’t know. Just thought it was interesting.’
As the teaspoon repeatedly brushes against the inside of the cup as you stir in the instant coffee and milk, JJ finally feels all the emotions even out. As your footsteps make their way back over to him, you flick on the lamp by the front door. JJ opens his eyes to see you place a steaming cup of Joe in front of him on the coffee table. The mug is cute. It’s peach pink and says “I’m drinking tea instead of committing crimes” on the front in an innocent type-writer print.
“Cute mug.”
“Thanks. Thought of you.”
He silently laughs. You sit closer to him this time and your mug sits next to his. There’s no funny quote written across the paint. Then your hand is on his back, barely rubbing him, and it hits JJ that this is the first time you’ve touched him in five years.
“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry,” you tell him. “It ain’t my place to say any of that. Especially not today.”
“It’s true, though. That’s the kicker, ain’t it? That it’s true,” JJ replies.
He sighs and leans back, sitting upright once more. Your hand falls away and you clasp it in the other in your lap. He glances down and takes in your side profile. That stupid piece of hair has come lose again, fallen in your face. He distracts his twitching fingers by twisting one of his rings.
“I’m okay, you know,” you tell him. You look up and meet his eyes. Yours are damp with emotion, just like his were moments earlier. “I’m really okay.”
“You almost weren’t though.”
“Is that the problem? That I almost wasn’t?”
“It’s not the problem. You were never a problem.”
“I ain't mean it like that,” you tell him. You shake your head and JJ isn’t entirely sure why. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Am I the reason that you left Kildare?”
A bird calls outside and JJ seems to latch onto it like a lifeline. That question makes him feel stranded and scared. He wasn’t ready for it despite being fully prepared.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I…It ain't that simple.”
“Can you explain it to me, maybe?” you wonder. There’s no wrath to your tone anymore – no vendetta against him. There’s just curiosity and care, and this wonderful tenderness that JJ always associated with you from day one, when you offered him your cap to keep his hair off his face.
“I didn’t like the person I was in Kildare.”
“Okay,” you quietly say.
“I didn’t like how I acted. I didn’t like how reckless I was, and how I didn’t care who got hurt in the process.”
“Like me?”
JJ swallows. He doesn’t tear his eyes from yours though. “Yeah. Like you.”
“Okay,” you repeat, quieter still, nodding.
“After El Dorado, coming back here, everything felt tainted. I just…I needed to escape it. My dad and my past and…And you. I couldn’t face it. I felt like I’d caused some freak accident and had gotten away, and then I'd come back to face the aftermath and I just couldn’t stomach it. I just ran.”
You nod.
“I just ran,” he hears himself repeat. “And I’m not proud of it. Of any of it.”
“Okay.”
“And I wanted to fix things, but I didn’t know how. Every time I thought of coming back to Kildare, or picking up the phone, or going on Instagram and finding you…I just got so fucking scared, like a stupid shithead kid. I was so scared of becoming the guy I was again.”
And, again, you nod. When he doesn’t continue, you fill the space. “How long have you been sober?”
“The minute I left Kildare.”
“Fuck.”
“Cold turkey. It sucked ass. It still does. You don’t miss it any less. I miss the rage too, sometimes. I miss my dad sometimes, too. Miss him beating on me. How fucked up is that? That I miss him beating on me?”
You don’t seem to know what to say to that. You just look down at the coffee mugs and watch how the steam is slowly but surely going away.
“I am sorry. I know that ain't worth anything, but I am sorry.”
“It is worth something.” You clear your throat, voice coming out stronger when you say, “It’s worth everything.”
Your smile comes back, timid and tiny. You meet eyes for the millionth time that night.
“It feels like I’ve been ready for you to come back, for so long, and now you’re actually here and…I don’t even know where to start.” He watches your tongue dart out and wet your lips. “I wasn’t expecting you to look so good.”
“Disappointed?”
“Massively. I would have got my ass in the gym more if I knew it was a Goddamn competition.”
JJ smiles. “You were always a sore loser.”
“Says you,” you snort.
There’s another peak in the conversation after the long slug of the last dip. It’s so bizarre. So wonderfully bizarre.
“I’m proud of you, for getting sober. Do you feel better for it?”
“Depends.”
“Well, you look better for it,” you say.
“You’re drooling, I think,” JJ teases, reaching a finger out to prod your cheek.
Rolling your eyes, you mirthfully bat his hand away. “You’re hallucinating.”
“Well, withdrawal does crazy things,” he quips back.
You chuckle and shake your head. “I missed you like crazy.”
“I miss you too.”
Your lips part a little with that. Miss. You seem to hesitate to hold his gaze then, like it’s too intense. JJ feels as though he can see every emotion flash across your face in a second, like watching a car crash in slow motion. Surprise, shock, joy, anger, then sadness. It’s that sadness that hammers hard when you speak, voice weak.
“You left without saying anything, JJ. For five years. You just left me.”
“Don’t make it sound like that. Like I abandoned you.”
“But you did,” you whisper. The tears are back. You’ve both fallen from the top of the mountain. “You abandoned me.”
“You don’t get it,” JJ replies, voice suddenly thick.
“I was in it with you.”
“You didn’t see it,” JJ forces out. His tears are falling: they didn’t wait this time. “You didn’t see how it looked – how you looked. You looked so fucking fragile and tiny and small and your leg was so bent and twisted and black – it was black – and I thought you were already dead.”
Your breathing is shaky and broken. The two of you sit on your sofa in the sunset, eyes locked, tears streaming, chests heaving like you’ve run a marathon. The word ‘dead’ hangs in the air and haunts the room.
“I thought you were dead, and I thought it was because of me.”
“Do you hate me for it?”
“Why the fuck would I—”
“Because I didn’t die? Do you hate me for it?”
JJ blinks back his bewilderment. He physically shifts back in his seat, as if you just spat in his face. Horrified, he tells you, “Of course I don’t. Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because I’m still here, JJ. But you acted like I wasn’t for five years. You didn’t even come see me in the hospital. Didn’t sit with me in the ambulance. Hell, you can’t even look at my leg now! You think I didn’t notice? At the graveyard, and now. You think I can’t see it on your face?”
JJ whispers your name in a tearful plea. Stop.
“I’m still here, JJ. And I invited you back here, and I went to the funeral, because I wanted to see you.”
“To show me what I did?” JJ asks, harsher than needed.
You hold his gaze. “To show you I’m okay.”
He shakes his head, insistent. “It was my fault. If I hadn’t been drinking and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have never let you jump off the bike like that. It was fucking reckless and stupid and I would never, ever do it again. It was all my fault.”
“I don’t care who’s fault it was, JJ,” you whisper. Your hand reaches out and traces his cheek and jaw, and he can’t help but lean into your warm touch. There you sit, cradling his face as if he was the victim in this whole thing. It calms him almost immediately. “Nobody forced me on that bike. Nobody forced me to jump, not even you.”
“I shouldn’t have let you.”
“JJ,” you sigh.
He closes his eyes as you shift in your spot, and somehow you end up with your forehead pressed against his. He reaches out one of his hands for the other of yours that rests in your lap and he clenches it, tight. You’re both still crying but they’re silent tears now.
“I forgive you, JJ.”
He shakes his head whilst you nod.
“Yes, I do, I forgive you. I always have. You know why?”
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.
“Because you were dealt the shitest hand I’ve ever known and look who you are. You’re sober, and you're healthy, and you have loving friends and a steady income and a job which you love, and a boathouse, and so much of your life left. And you didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t kill me, JJ. You didn’t even lose me.”
“I don’t—”
“We’re more than our mistakes.”
When JJ opens his eyes, you pull back enough to let him meet your gaze. As if you know what he’s about to ask, you smile. That smile…JJ feels like he’s coming home.
“You’re more than your mistakes, JJ.”
The moment his lips slot against yours, tentative and hesitant, like a bird exploring new ground for the first time, he’s home. There’s hardly a moment of reluctance, of confusion and mismatch from the time passed, before you’re kissing him back. The softness of your lips against his and the brush of your tongue. The sigh in your voice and the tilt of your head. It’s so seamless and sweet and safe. JJ feels safe here, with you. He feels like all the shit doesn’t matter. He feels like sober might actually be synonymous with happiness, with you. When he lies you down on the sofa, JJ doesn’t want to leave this room, this house, or Kildare. He wants to stay here, worshipping you, breathing you in until you consume all of his senses, because after five years, nothing has made him feel as alive as this. As you.
Everything is a wonderful illusion of being rushed and well-paced all at once. He revels in the way your skin gives gently beneath the scrape of his teeth. When he sucks at your throat, the skin is so delicate, and this close to you JJ can smell nothing but your perfume. He wants to fucking drown in it.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he pants. You’re gasping too. Fingers sliding through his hair, down his sides, along his face.
“I missed you,” you whine.
And that phrase gets repeated over and over like a mantra or a prayer. He hears himself whispering it against your skin with every button he undoes on your blouse. Basks in the sound of your voice, older and mature but still you, as you say it whilst pushing his dress shirt off his shoulder.
There’s a stalling pause when his fingers finish tracing down your stomach to your pants. You seem to notice it. Your hand comes to his face and thumbs at his cheek. They’re still sticky from dried tears.
“JJ,” you whisper, coaxing his attention back to your face. You’re glowing. You’re happy, you’re healthy, and you’re here. “It’s okay.” Nodding, you repeat. “It’s okay.”
Then, he watches your own fingers land on the button of your pants, slowly undoing it. Then the other and the third until they’re lose. He watches you wriggle out of them, pulling them down, struggling somewhat from the tight position on the sofa. Watches the scars emerge, faint but clear, and how they grow and spread like ivy on the side of a house. They merge with the cellulite and stretch marks. With a random bruise you must’ve gotten from hitting your leg on the table the other day. They’re a part of you – plain and simple. At the knee, there’s the connection for your prosthetic right leg. Once your trousers are off, JJ finds himself reaching out to touch it. This thing that he was partly responsible for, this marvel of medicine, the reason you can walk. He loves it and hates it desperately all at once. Glancing back up to your face, you’re watching him just as carefully as he was watching you. But you’re smiling.
“You’re okay,” JJ finds himself saying quietly. Because you are. You’re here, laying almost bare before him, just like you had years before.
“It’s rude to make a girl wait, JJ,” you tease.
With that, JJ’s smile is blossoming back like the returning of spring flowers following a brutal winter. He leans forward and catches himself above you with his arms, kissing you like you’re all the oxygen in the world. Your left leg rubs at his calf, still covered by his trousers, and you giggle against his mouth.
“Fuck, I missed this,” you say. “I missed you.”
“How much?”
“So much,” you say.
“Oh yeah? What’d you miss?” JJ persists, kissing down your neck.
“Your mouth,” you say through a moan. His hands slip behind your back and unclasp your bra. You arch your back enough for him to tug it off.
“My mouth?” he wonders, breathing it against your skin. You’re practically writhing. JJ laughs. “What about my mouth?”
“Don’t be a jackass, JJ,” you mutter.
“You want my mouth?”
“Yes,” you quietly beg.
“You do?” he checks, kissing over your breast, sucking at your nipple. “Where do you want it?”
“You fucking know where,” you sigh, impatience shining through.
He grins at the sudden hitch of your moan as he softly nips at the sensitive skin around your nipple. Then he’s kissing down your stomach until finally his fingers hook into the sides of your panties. He slowly, tauntingly, pulls them down. You kick them off at the ankles, a clear act of frustration, and he bites back his laugh.
“What? Here?” JJ plants a kiss to your hipbone. “You want my mouth here? Or…”
Another kiss, to your pelvic bone.
“Here?”
“Fuck you, Maybank.”
“You wanna?”
“I swear to fucking God,” you huff, laughing through the annoyance.
With that, JJ settles himself between your legs and praises you like you deserve to be. The noises you make are downright evil, considering he can do nothing about it and has to hold it together. You taste so familiar on his tongue.
“Fucking missed you,” he groans against you.
When he sucks on your clit, your hands latch into his hair. Your back is arching and you’re gasping and panting and desperate, and JJ feels like a young God. Pulling back, he slips a finger into your hole and it welcomes him so easily. He cusses at how wet you are.
“Come on baby. Come on, I know you’re close.”
The tells of your body haven’t changed since the last time you two were in this position. The way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan when you fall over the edge is so surreal to see after five years apart. He feels you spasms around him and basks in the scratch of your nails against his scalp as you try to ground yourself. He hardly has time to suck his fingers clean before your pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him stupid.
“Fucking missed you,” you repeat against his mouth, making him laugh. “Nobody fucks me as good as you.”
“Jesus Christ, you can’t say shit like that,” JJ chuckles. “Won’t last.”
“Don’t care,” you say. “Only thing bigger than your ego is your dick.”
JJ can’t help but laugh at that. He loves your giggles in response. And then your hands are shoving at his trousers and the humour is gone, replaced with nothing but raw lust and desperation. There’s nothing performative about it, when the two of you hurry to strip his clothes away as soon as possible. He takes note to get his socks off. You’d always had a weird thing about it, sex in socks, and nothing was going to taint this night. Not after so long.
Being inside you…JJ missed it more than all the alcohol and weed in the world. Nothing compared to the feeling of you clenching around him. The vice of your leg hitched up and over his back as he grips into your thigh, mean and firm, perfecting the angle. The senseless, endless whines falling from your agape mouth, eyes closed tight, lost in the feeling of it. JJ wants nothing to be less than perfect for you, for this. Every stroke, every kiss, every clench of his fingers…it all has to be perfect. He knows when you’re close and he’s more than fucking relieved. It’s taking everything in him not to come. He needs you to fall over the edge first.
“Do the thing,” you whine. “Do the thing, John.”
With that, JJ remembers five years back, to late nights and later mornings spent rolling in bed with you. He bites into his lip, holding back his shit-eating grin as the memories flood back, and he leans forward to your ear. Gently taking the lobe within his teeth, he croons into the shell of your ear.
“That’s my good fucking girl.”
And finally, you fall apart, taking JJ with you like you always would.
When the high finally passes and the endorphins settle down, the two of you are laying on the sofa, only covered by a throw blanket JJ had dragged down from the back of the sofa. You’ve somehow shuffled so you’re laying mostly atop of him. His arms are locked around your damp stomach like a vice, nose nestled into your hair, just behind your ear, breathing you in with every inhale.
“Will you stay in Kildare, just for a short while? For me?”
JJ wants to laugh but he knows how wrong that would be in this moment. The humour doesn’t come from the question, but from the notion that he’d leave after finally having you back in his life, safe and happy, after five long years.
“Anything,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against your hair. Anything for you.
-
“You look like shit by the way,” JJ says.
His hands are warm in his cargo pant pockets. Head tilted down and gaze steady, he sighs.
“Guess you didn’t have chance to clean up though, right?”
Shockingly, the gravestone says nothing back. Well, says nothing asides form Luke Maybank in barely legible font.
It still feels surreal, that his dad is gone. That they’d never remedy anything, or even attempt to fix their relationship. That JJ wouldn’t be able to face him and show him what he’d become. How he’d risen past it all and grown from the pain and the agony. That he’d taken the shitty hand that he was dealt and turned it into nothing but flushes and full houses. That he hadn’t grown into a petty criminal or a tax-evading lowlife, but a strong, good-willed, well-intentioned man. The thought, bittersweet at heart, makes him smile.
“I’m happy dad. I know you probably hate that, being dead and all, but I am.”
As if on cue, there’s the high pitch giggles from afar that catch JJ’s attention. He glances over to spot you and your wonderful mini-you, sitting on your shoulders, waving at him. He waves back, small and short, smiling.
“I’m glad you never met her,” JJ tells his dad, never tearing his eyes away from the pair of you. You ease her off your shoulders and take her hand, pointing to a small bed of daffodils. “I was so scared I’d be bad at this. I was so scared that I’d be like you.”
She’s so fragile as she picks a flower free from the bunch, holding it by the stem, up to you. You nod and presumably smile in approval.
“But I’ll never be like you. She’ll never know what it feels like to live in fear,” JJ states, firmly. He looks back down to the grave. “I’m not your mistakes, and I’m not mine.”
He lowers to a squat and wipes some of the dirt off the stone, revealing the dates. “Happy birthday, dad. You suck, and I hope you’re finally at peace.”
“Daddy, daddy…”
There’s an insistent tug at his jacket sleeve. JJ smiles and looks down at the best mistake he ever made. Mistake is a strong word. ‘Oops, I think is better’, you’d said when you first showed him the pregnancy test.
“What’s up, bub?”
“I found this flower. Can I give it to papa?”
JJ takes the daffodil and glances to the grave. A brief moment of anger passes over him like the breeze of winter. He doesn’t deserve this. He isn’t your papa. I’m glad he’s dead. But he closes his eyes and breathes. Your hand squeezing gently at his shoulder tells him you’re there. It helps ground him.
“Yeah, bub. I think that’d be nice,” he smiles, handing it back.
She giggles as she puts it on the grass just before the stone. Her laughter is brighter and louder still when JJ scoops her up as he stands, looping her around him until she’s a backpack.
“You wanna get ice cream?”
“Hell yeah,” you whoop.
“Hell yeah!” mini-you copies. JJ laughs.
“Alrighty, lets go.”
As the three of you make the small walk back to the car, you intertwine your fingers with JJ’s, holding his hand tight and secure. JJ takes one last glance back at the gravestone. It all began here, in a way, the re-introduction to a life he thought he’d lost. Perhaps the nicest thing JJ’s dad ever did, the kindest act he ever performed, was dying. Perhaps that was his way of paying him back for all the crap he gave.
“Hey.”
JJ glances down at you.
“You okay?”
He smiles. Then, he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
Everything is going to be okay.
#JJ#JJ Maybank#JJ x reader#JJ Maybank x reader#jj x oc#jj maybank x oc#outer banks#outerbanks#outer banks jj#outerbanks jj#outer banks jj x reader#outerbanks jj x reader#outer banks fic#outerbanks fic
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since im like i love w/ ur writing can u PLEASE do nate smut??
idk what but like please
-💋anon
Camping
Nathan Doe x Fem reader
Warnings: angst kinda, SMUTTTT
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR
I’ve been friends with the triplets since I can remember. We’ve been on so many family trips in our time growing up together; beach vacations, skiing, boating. Never did I ever think I would agree to go camping with them.
But here we are in the mountains, setting up our tents and gear. It’s us four and Nate for three days, living out of tents and stuck with no cell service. It’s not exactly my idea of a fun time, but Matt loves the outdoors and Nick and Chris seemed super excited to get away for a while too.
“Pass me another stake, this one won’t go in the fucking ground!” Chris yells from across the jumbled up pile of fabric that we’re struggling to turn into a tent for him and Matt.
“This one is the exact same,” I laugh while grabbing another one out of the package and toss it his way. “But there ya go, have at it kid.”
He grabs it and replaces the one he had been trying to get in at first, this one going into the ground on his first attempt. He shoots me a teasing grin and sticks his tongue out like a little kid, earning a laugh from me in return.
“Maybe you should listen to the boys for once, Y/n,” Nate blurts out, my eyes narrowing in his direction. “Girls weren’t built for these tough woods.” He snickers and tosses a chip into the air before catching it in his mouth.
I turn my attention back to straightening out the fabric in front of me. “Maybe you should make yourself useful and put together your tent. How about that, Nate?” I shoot back without looking at him, my nerves getting more shot with each annoying thing he does. It’s been a fucking day already.
“It was a joke, damn. Someone’s panties are in a wad.” He laughs his smug laugh and I hear Nick quietly scold him.
He’s always been so immature. I deal with him because the boys love him, but if I had it my way I wouldn’t ever be in the same room as him. He just knows what buttons to press to piss me off and make me want to pull my hair out. He thinks it’s so funny to make jokes about me being a helpless, dumb girl, and that is far from the truth. Even if it’s just joke, why keep going if nobody else is laughing?
We spend what feels like hours getting the three tents set up, positioning them next to a little creek. The sound of the water is going to be incredibly nice once I finally get to wind down for bed. For now Matt is setting up a little fire in a pit so we can make some s’mores.
I walk to the back of the van and open the trunk, grabbing two of the fold up chairs we brought and start carrying them towards the fire pit. Nick sees me doing it alone and rushes to help, grabbing two more out of the trunk and trailing behind me.
“Thank you Nicky, there should be one more in the ba-” I cut myself off with a squeal, feeling fingers digging into my sides causing both of my chairs to crash onto the ground.
I whip around and Nate is behind me, a devious grin on his face and his hands up in defense.
“That didn’t even tickle, asshole. It hurt.” I spit at him, leaning down to pick the chairs back up.
“Not my fault you’re sensitive.” He laughs, retreating to the van to grab the other chair.
“I don’t know what his problem is, Y/n. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere fun just us once this trip is over to make up for it!” Nick apologizes, speeding up to walk beside me.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m still having fun with you three.” I smile, opening up the chairs and spacing them out beside the fire pit.
Matt finally gets the fire going and Chris gets back from his adventure of finding some nice sticks for roasting marshmallows. We claim our seats and sit around as the sun goes down, feasting on s’mores and listening to Chris ramble.
“No dude, I swear. I heard the footsteps behind me,” he says with wide eyes. “I was sprinting so fast to get back here.”
“There was not a fucking bear stalking you. We would have seen it.” Matt rolls his eyes, adding a piece of chocolate to his graham cracker.
“Not if it was stalking!” He takes a bite, marshmallow sticking to his cheek. “That’s like… the whole point of stalking,” he talks with his mouth full, “to be secretive.”
“Bro that would have been a cool story to be honest.” Nate chimes in, holding his marshmallow in the flames until it catches fire.
“Nate!” Nick says in a warning tone, his eyes widening as Nate pulls it out of the flames and starts whipping the stick around.
Nate stands up and starts doing a dance with the flaming marshmallow on top, carelessly lashing it back and forth. He runs in circles around our chairs, laughing as he holds it over my head tauntingly. Before I can even register what has happened, oozing hot marshmallow drops down straight onto my chest, a throbbing burn stinging my skin even through my t-shirt. I yelp and curse in pain and try brush it off with my fingers which proves to be no help, the stickiness makes it almost impossible.
“What the fuck bro?” Chris raises his voice at Nate, quickly standing up to help me brush the remnants away.
“I didn’t know it would drip..” he says while holding back a laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
Tears well in my eyes from the pain and I try to choke them back, pulling my neckline down to see a red welt already blistering up onto my skin. “Fuck you.” I direct at Nate, making eye contact with him as I stand up to head over to Matt’s backpack in his tent. It’s uncomfortably quiet, the only sound being the trickling of the water, the crackling fire and my feet stomping on the leaves.
I unzip the door and rummage through the backpack before finding the first aid kit, jumping when I fear the fabric rustling. Matt’s head pops in and he leans down so his head doesn’t hit the top of the opening. “You need some help?”
I nod and feel a hot tear fall down my cheek, brushing it away quickly as Matt digs through his kit for burn cream. I sit criss cross and he kneels down in front of me, sighing as he brushes my hair back and pulls my collar down. “He got you good, but it didn’t break the skin thankfully.” He swipes an alcohol wipe over it and cleans it up, using a swab to apply some cream. “All better?”
I nod and reach my arms out, sinking into his embrace. “Why does he hate me?” I speak quietly.
“Oh Y/n,” he laughs, “he doesn’t. He’s just immature. He doesn’t know when to stop.”
“Well it feels like he does. Haven’t even been through one night and he’s already getting on my last nerve.”
He pulls back and gives me a knowing look before standing up, holding his hand out and helping me to my feet. “I’ll talk to him. Just try to enjoy your time, okay? Don’t let him ruin your trip.”
I smile in appreciation of Matt and our friendship. I give him a nod and a peck on the cheek, jumping when Nate speaks up.
“The fuck?”
Matt and I snap our heads to him, his tall frame standing in the opening of the tent with a puzzled look on his face.
“What?” I snap, seething with anger. “Can’t even get five minutes away from you, huh?”
He raises an eyebrow and gives us a suggestive look.
“Nate, stop being fucking weird. Y/n is like my sister. Get your ass in here.” Matt demands, guiding me out of the tent and back to Nick and Chris, Nate bumping my shoulder as we cross paths.
The rest of the night is peaceful. Matt and Nate eventually came back to join us in our exchange of campfire stories, a grin across Matt’s face as he takes the seat next to me. We take turns talking about all things spooky, paranormal, conspiracy theories, you name it. When it circles around to Nate for his turn, he shakes his head and sits back in his seat. He remains quiet and standoffish for the rest of the night, engaging in conversation as little as he can.
It’s pitch black and the fire is dwindling down when Nick announces he’s going to head to bed, collecting the sticks and tossing them into the flames.
“Same here, Matt come with me so you don’t wake me up with that loud ass zipper later.” Chris ruffles Matt’s hair and gets pushed away playfully.
“I’ll be in there in a bit,” Nate looks at Nick. “I’ll keep a watch on the fire ‘til it goes out.”
Nick nods and retreats off to their tent, zipping it shut.
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Chris yells as he sprints towards his tent, and Matt mouths ‘help me’ as he scoots in behind him.
The awkwardness in the air is thick and palpable, neither me or Nate uttering a word as the crickets chirp around us. He pokes and prods at the fire, sparks floating off into the air as he moves the remaining logs around. I watch, almost hypnotized by the embers and shake my head, snapping back to reality. As I look up I swear I catch his dark blue eyes looking into mine for a fraction of a second. I huff and stand up, brushing the crumbs off my shirt before I turn around to make my way to my tent.
I zip myself in and do the best skin routine I can do while camping, cleansing my face with wipes and applying my travel moisturizer and serums. I change into a tank top and sleep shorts, happy with the idea of being a little cold while I sleep.
I flip on my portable reading light and set it up beside my air mattress, grabbing a book to read to lull myself to sleep. The soft light is ambient and relaxing along with the steady trickling of the stream just behind my tent.
I read for a while, snug under my blanket and dozing off every couple minutes as my eyes trace across the pages. I hear rustling outside my tent, setting my book down as I listen closer. What if Chris was right and there is a bear stalking us from somewhere beyond the tree line? I jump and gasp as I hear tapping on my door, the fabric rippling and moving around.
“Knock knock…” a deep voice rings out just loud enough for me to hear.
The zipper starts moving around the arch of the entrance, falling down to reveal Nate’s figure standing outside.
“Can I come in?” He whispers.
“Uhh.. I’d rather you didn’t.” I groan and pick my book back up, trying to bring my focus back to the love story in front of me.
“Please? I’ll be quick.” He pleads, dipping his head farther in the tent.
I look up as the light catches on his face, and I can see the dip of his cheekbones, his jaw clenching lightly as he takes a deep breath.
“Fine. Make it snappy.” I concede, sitting up and drawing my legs to my chest instinctively, almost as an effort to protect myself.
I hear the zipper of the door being closed and feel the air mattress dip as he sits on the edge, a good distance still between us. He brings one leg up to rest on the bed and the other hangs down to the ground, nervously kicking back and forth. We sit for a minute without speaking, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the silence. He coughs and clears his throat, urging me to look his way.
“How’s the.. burn?” He asks as his eyes flick down to my chest and back up quickly.
“Really fucking painful.” I state matter of factly, exaggerating to try and make him feel bad.
He breathes out and closes his eyes, an apologetic look written across his face as he opens them again. “Look, Y/n, I’m sor-”
“You don’t have to do this.” I interrupt him, my tone full of annoyance. “I don’t want a half assed apology.”
“Let me talk.. please?” He asks calmly, pulling his other leg up onto the mattress.
I sigh and nod, playing with my fingers that are still interlocked around my legs.
“Y/n. I’m actually really fucking sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he looks down and shakes his head before looking back up, licking his lips. “I just d-don’t know how to..” he stammers, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Go on..” I huff, ready to dive back into my book and sleep this night away.
“Can I just see the burn?” He asks hesitantly, a shaking hand reaching up to toy with my fingers.
I swallow back a gasp as the heat of his hand radiates against mine, his soft fingers guiding mine to unlock. His eyes are filled with a softness, an innocence that I’ve never seen before. I release my grip and allow my knees to fall down from my chest, exposing the wound he left on me hours before. It’s nothing major, just a red welt filled with lingering heat. His shoulders slump as he scans over it, his eyes showing remorse as they meet mine again.
“It’s already a lot better.” I admit, regretting the harsh tone I had used earlier when I lied to him about it still being painful.
“Can I?” He asks softly, reaching a hand toward my chest.
I give him a hesitant nod as my cheeks burn, scared he’ll be able to feel my heart pounding in my chest. My blood burns hot as it courses through my body, a visceral reaction to the distance closing between us. His fingertips graze over it with a feather light touch, so soft it’s like he’s almost not touching me at all. He lingers for a moment, his eyes shutting as he shifts his position to be directly in front of me. His hand drops down, landing on my bare calf as his eyes flash up to mine again.
“I just don’t know how to act around you, Y/n.” He is barely audible as his hand squeezes my leg.
“W-what are you talking about, Nate?”
“I just..” his hand inches up to my knee. “I think I make a fool of myself to try and impress you.”
I shake my head, convinced this is just a weird dream that I’m having and I’ll wake up to the same annoying Nate that makes me want to claw at my skin. I can’t help but feel my stomach flip with the way he’s opening up to me.
“I’m serious. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you since we were in school together.” His fingers trail up my inner thigh, the rough pads against my skin causing a heat to rush between my thighs.
“Nathan… I-”
“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath. “You can’t call me that, Y/n.”
“Why not?” I ask in a whisper, my better judgement taking over as I place my hand on top of his own, leading it higher up my thigh.
His breath hitches as he looks down and sees that he’s millimeters away from the hem of my shorts. “Makes me feel some type of way..” he trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he gulps.
“What kind of way, Nathan?” I ask lowly, batting my eyes at him and feigning innocence as I scoot closer.
“Stop it. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warns, starting to draw his hand back.
I tighten my grip on his hand and move it higher, pushing the tips of his fingers under the hem and biting my lip. “Who said I don’t feel the same?”
It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He brings his free hand to my face and caresses it lightly, still a little hesitant but with a hungry look in his eyes. He moves his face closer to mine, hot breath fanning against me as his pink lips ghost over mine.
“Are you sure?” He asks seriously.
“I’m positive.” I answer, closing the distance and taking the opportunity to make the first move.
Our lips mesh together, working against each other slowly. His hand moves to my jaw, fingers resting against the nape of my neck as we kiss like it’s the only thing we know how to do. He pulls away and places a few quick pecks on my lips before diving back in, moving both hands to my hips. He pulls me closer and I take the hint, throwing a leg over him and straddling his lap, never disconnecting our lips. His big hands roam my body, squeezing and grabbing hungrily as he swipes his tongue over my bottom lip. I open my mouth and our tongues synchronize, exploring the parts we’ve both secretly longed for. The kiss is both passionate and filled with lust, low moans breathed into each other’s mouths.
He pulls back and scans my face, his pupils rapidly dilating as he drags his gaze down to my chest. My nipples have caught up with my arousal, becoming taut against the fabric of my tank top. He brings his mouth down and places a kiss on each one through my shirt, a whine escaping my lips at the sensation. He reaches up and places a tender kiss to the burn on my chest, careful not to be too rough.
His hands trail up my hips before moving up and pulling down on the neckline of my top, my breasts spilling out inches from his face.
“So perfect.” He whispers against my skin while placing kisses spanning across my chest.
My head falls back and I grip into his soft hair, pulling on it and earning a low groan. His tongue circles my left nipple before he latches onto it, sucking slowly as his blue eyes lock onto mine. I push his hair out of his forehead as he switches to the other nipple, flicking his tongue across it before sucking a little more harshly.
I can feel him growing beneath me, his erection pressing against my clothed core. I instinctively grind down against it, causing his lips to stall on my nipple and a low moan to escape his throat. He bucks up for more, his throbbing dick providing a delicious pressure against me. His hands leave my body and he pulls his shirt off, leaning back on his hands, propped up and staring at me intently. His defined torso is etched out in the light, a sheen of sweat over his skin despite the cool night air.
“Fuck.. just keep grinding… please.” He pleads, squirming his hips.
I do as I’m told, my hands reaching up to pull my own tank top over my head as I move back and forth on him. I reach down and run my fingers across his stomach, the rippling muscles tensing beneath my fingers as I circle my hips. His face contorts with pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I can’t help the little whimpers that fall past my lips, my core now dripping with need. The layers of clothing between us do nothing to stop the feeling of his rock hard erection against my clit.
“Nathan.. I need it.” I pant and start loosening the tie on his sweatpants.
“Stand up baby. Let me undress you.” He demands as he guides me to my feet and sits up on the edge of the mattress.
My stomach flutters at the new pet name and at the fact that his lips are now placing hot kisses across the tender fleshy skin. He inches lower, lips grazing against my waistband as he hooks his fingers into them. He looks up at me again with a questioning look, almost as if asking me to confirm I want this for a final time. I nod furiously and he slowly inches the shorts down until they pool around my ankles. He traces the fabric of my underwear lightly before pulling them down, my body now completely exposed in the soft light of my reading lamp. He removes his own pants and boxers in one motion, his dick springing up and a whine falling past his lips at the freeing feeling.
“Now get back on,” he says while resuming his propped up position, “I like seeing your tits in my face.”
The dirty words make my stomach flip. I climb back on top of him, my dripping pussy sliding up across his length, my core clenching in response. I repeat it a few times, gripping onto his shoulders as I slide back and forth across his cock feeling every vein running across its surface. He grips his base with one hand as I lift up, lining himself up with my entrance. I sink down, feeling my walls stretch around him as I take him inch by inch.
“So tight, fuck..” he groans, hips stuttering and resisting the urge to shove all the way into me.
“Y-you’re so big, Nathan.” I whimper, pain turning into pleasure as I begin to loosen up and sink completely down.
“Don’t flatter me, baby.” He smirks and brings a thumb to his mouth, licking it and bringing it down to rub my clit.
I moan out and immediately stop myself, worried about waking the boys who are just a couple thin fabric walls away from us. Nate shushes me and rubs back and forth tantalizingly slow, his pressure rough. I start to bounce up and down on him, gripping onto the arm that’s still propping himself up. The muscles are flexed and hard, and his tanned skin is clammy beneath my fingertips.
His finger leaves my clit and reaches up to pinch my nipple, rolling and tugging on it as I ride him. We’re both panting and holding back our sounds, swallowing them down before they have the chance to escape. His eyes are fully blown out as he bites onto his lip.
“N-Nathan please.. touch me again.” I whisper, sinking down to take all of him back inside and rolling my hips.
“You like when I play with your clit?” He asks with a smug grin before bringing his thumb back down, rubbing faster this time.
“U-uh.. mhm… fuck.” I can barely form words, the pleasure making my brain cloudy.
My thighs burn as I bounce up and down, feeling his swollen tip brush against my walls with every movement. He starts to buck his hips up along with my movements, pushing himself impossibly deep into my core. I taste iron in my mouth as I bite onto my bottom lip, desperate to keep my moans contained. A pressure is building in my lower stomach as he toys with me, his index finger inching its way to my clit to roll it between his thumb.
In the blink of an eye he’s on top of me, his chain dangling over my face. He hooks one of his arms around my thigh and pushes it up against my stomach, the other sprawled out to the side. His other arm props himself up above me, his veins lining his arms and straining underneath his skin.
He pushes into me and curses fall out of his mouth as he begins to pump in and out. His hips slap against my skin rhythmically, my breasts bouncing with each impact. Each thrust brings me closer to the edge as head brushes repeatedly against my g spot.
“I’m close, baby. F-fuck.. wanna cum in you so bad..” he groans, his head falling down into my neck.
I lean over and hover my lips by his ear. “Please, Nathan..” I almost beg, my pussy starting to clench around him already.
My pleas send him over the edge, his dick twitching as he shoots his load into me. He pushes all the way in as he paints my walls, and the sensation brings me to my own climax. My stomach clenches as I throb around him, his name falling out of my lips over and over. We moan out together as we ride through our releases, my hands clawing down his back as I arch up off the bed against him. He falls down on top of me, my breath hitching at the feeling of his dick sliding out, still so sensitive from my climax.
“Oh my god.” He pants out as he rolls over to lay down beside me.
My head is swimming and my entire body is pulsing. I look over and place a soft kiss against his lips, too tired to even think about talking right now.
We lay together for a while, drinking in the bliss and caressing each other with soft hands. He eventually gets up to rummage through my bags, finding a pack of baby wipes. He tenderly cleans me up before grabbing a new one and cleans himself off. We redress and he plops back down into the mattress.
“As much as I would love to sleep in here..” he starts, leaving the statement open ended.
“I know. It’s okay.” I smile and pull him closer, brushing the hair out of his eyes.
He melts against me and cuddles against my chest. Time feels slow as we listen to the babbling creek and the crickets chirping in the woods.
A different kind of chirping causes me to shoot my eyes open, panic flooding in as I see the light through the tent and Nate’s chest rising and falling underneath my blanket. I hit his chest and he jumps, his eyes flying open and the same panicked look written across his face.
“What are we gonna do?” I whisper, rubbing my hands across my face.
“Hey.” He grabs my hands, pulling them away from my face. “I’ll just sneak into my tent and go to sleep next to Nick like I was supposed to.”
I nod frantically and lay down, faking sleep as he presses a kiss against my hair and hurries to undo the zipper on the door.
“Fuck.” He mumbles.
“What, Nathan?” I sit up, scanning around to see what he’s so worried about.
To our surprise, all three boys sit around the fire pit with a flame already blazing, cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they smirk and laugh over at us.
“You guys have fun last night?”
tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#nate doe#nathan doe#nathan doe smut#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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condoms
} warnings : hinted sex
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“hurry up, babe.” i let out a groan, impatiently looking around us in the store.
whenever we have to buy condoms, i always get very embarrassed or worried that someone will notice us. nate finds it amusing.
i bounced my leg up and down as he took his time scanning the boxes, letting out a frustrated sigh while he only chuckled at me as his lips curled into a smirk.
“relax, y/n. nobody is here.” he said, bending down to look at more boxes of protection.
i rolled my eyes, “yeah, but they could.” i peered down the aisles, making sure no one around would see us. “oh my god, just pick a box! here, this one will work,” i grabbed the first box i saw and handed it to nate.
“nope.” he chuckled, putting the box back on the shelf. i furrowed my eyebrows.
“what's wrong with them?” i asked. he turned to me.
“too small.”
my cheeks flushed pink as i nervously shushed him, but all he did was laugh. it was fairly quiet in the store, but nate was being rather loud as if he wanted to get caught and embarrass me.
“hey, do you want me to pleasure you, baby?” he shrugged, earning himself another eye roll out of me.
“as of right now, i don't care, so will you please just pick a box?” i impatiently complained.
“okay, okay, fine.” nate rolled his eyes and finally picked a box a few more seconds later.
“i should've stayed in the car,” i muttered, following nate out the aisle.
“you're so whiny, baby." he said, chuckling to himself for a little. it's hard doing normal people things when you have a platform. you have eyes on you all the time, and it feels like you can't do normal people things because people will judge you. besides, nate and i haven't become official yet. people are onto us, but we haven't fed them anything. if they caught us buying condoms together, that would be a dead giveaway.
we're making our way to the cash register, when the worst thing that could happen, happens.
“excuse me, are you guys youtubers?” a girl says, who belongs to a group of a good number of her friends. my cheeks heat up and i can feel my face turning red. nate frantically hides the box behind his back, almost making an even bigger scene.
we take a picture with them, and after a couple of minutes of conversation, they finally leave. as soon as they do, nate bursts out laughing, i just roll my eyes.
“i told you!” i laugh, shoving his arm, almost falling over because of how hard he's laughing. i start laughing too though.
“yeah, but your face was so red,” he laughs, and i just chuckle in embarrassment.
“it's not funny!” i say though i’m laughing too. he calms down finally, wrapping an arm around me as we walk to the register.
“you're right, you're right, i’m sorry.” he smiles, while planting a kiss on my forehead.
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this is obviously a quickly written fanfic sorry 🫤🫤
again NATE SMUUUUUTTTTTT (nate is fs a sub) and pt 3 of the chris thingys COMING SOON
hope u enjoy 😊😊😊
#nathan doe#chris sturniolo#fanfic#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#ao3#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#spank me daddy#i love him
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sound of you - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: as much as you put the most effort you always find yourself in the same place you dread. although along with jude it seems a little easier and perfect when with him.
wc: 1.3k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
i promise a bigger fic will be otw soon!! i’m trying to answer blurbs as much as possible before i start my wip!! 🤍🤞🏻
you shut your mouth, slouching a bit in your seat as you get ignored and left out for the fifth time this night. you gulp heavily and take a sip of your drink, faking a smile when you hear your friends explain the story you were about to tell.
you fidget with your rings slowly distancing yourself from everyone. you had came tonight to celebrate your friends promotion, and while you dreaded it, you came out of respect, even if she couldn’t do the same with you. your leg began to bounce feeling the familiar anxiety build in your chest as you listened to the chatter and laughs.
why was it so hard to please them? why did they constantly ignore you? why did they always seem to leave only you out? why couldn’t they just consider your feelings for once? we’re you different from everyone else?
nobody seemed to care when you excused yourself to go to the restroom, leaving you a bit more disappointed. but it wasn’t your night, it was your friends and the last thing you wanted was another embarrassing encounter where they called you out in front of everyone.
you hadn’t noticed, but jude did. jude sat there uncomfortable at the way they treated you. the way they spoke at you, ignoring you, treating you literally like a plate for a second table. he hated it. you were such a beautiful and wonderful soul and he was left angered and raged how they did what they did to you.
he saw it all. the fake smiles, getting cutoff, heavy gulps, leg bouncing, looking around to find a door or a way to leave, he saw the sadness in your eyes the entire evening. it began to sting him just a bit, because he understood what it was like to be in your place.
you returned excusing yourself into the seat, eyes a bit redder than before, and lips just a bit plumper than they had been. jude saw the way you bit your cheek, ignoring everyone in the room and focused on your ripped jeans, poking and tugging on the strings.
jude those time he spoke with you, he was infatuated with how kind and lovely you spoke. how shy and reserved you were, but most of all how funny you are. when he was introduced to the group you hadn’t treated him for jude bellingham, you treated him like the friend and person he was which he admired so much.
you hadn’t made the friendship a personality, or flexed it like some of them did. you didn’t fight for his attention or made it seem desperate. he either approached you, or you did when he was left alone and looking around. he had taken a liking and the more and more he hung out with you, the more attached he was.
he’d find any excuse just to hangout with you, to make you laugh, smile, or hear about your day. treat you like you should’ve been treated by everyone else. if he could, he’d make you his and give you anything you wished or wanted.
jude saw you cheer up at the mention of another memory, but then you quickly got quiet again, that’s when jude had enough and spoke up. “i’m sorry to cut in but what we’re you going to say y/n?” jude said, pointing at you, you tensed at everyone looking at you.
“oh nothing! nothing, nothing,” you ushered him off, looking at him pleading with your eyes to drop it. your friend raised her brows at the situation, crossing her arms making the fire rise more. “what we’re you gonna say y/n? hmm?”
“honestly i forgot what we were talking about,” you lied laughing it off, which earned a couple chuckles from everyone. your friend rolled her eyes and continued her conversation. “i just think it funny how you invited everyone but ignore y/n only,” jude scoffed, “but that’s just me though,” he shrugged leaning back onto the seat and downing his drink.
“excuse me?”
“i said what i said. you’ve been ignoring y/n, cutting her off, and giving her no attention whatsoever,” jude tested her seeing fury build in her. “you’ve made everyone feel included expect her, why? because she’s better than you?”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” your friend tried to defend herself, waving jude off. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, you just can’t admit it because you know i’m right. you make everything a competition with her, try to belittle her, ignore and humiliate her for what? to make yourself look better? everyone here sees it,” jude stated, not caring if he was making a scene.
“you keep doing it as if we don’t notice. you ask her a question or bring up a certain memory and ignore or cut her off. it’s immature and disrespectful. i don’t care if tonight is about you, but you always do it when she’s here or when we’re together, and i’ve had enough,” you bite your lip trying to hide back the smile that wants to appear.
this earns a few snickers from everyone, agreeing with him on what he said. "and don't act so innocent, you know exactly what you're doing. all shes done to you was be there for you especially when you most needed her, and this is how you treat her? you and your friends?" jude continued, seeing your friend throw glares at you.
"if you had a problem with it y/n, why didn't you ever say anything?" your friend says angrily, earning a small scoff from you. "how was I supposed to? all you do is ignore and exclude me? and i put up with it because i feel sorry for you," you stand up, grab a couple bills and slam them on the table. "good luck at your new job, you'll need it, but i'm done with you and your shit."
you feel the chill breeze hit you as you step out, tugging the coat closer to you as you look around to call a taxi. the door jiggles and someone new steps out, to your surprise it is jude, who looks around to find you. you immediately run to him, hugging his torso and crawling to his neck seeking comfort. "thank you," you say sincerely, not being able to find the write words for him.
"anything for you. i'm so proud of you for finally standing up for yourself y/n... i don't know how you put up with it every time," jude whispers, leaning his head into yours, hugging you closer. "i think i put up with them because i thought they'd change and realize, but friends don't treat each other that way..."
he could hear you sniffling and a small whimper escape your throat as you cried, making him pull your head back and wipe the tears away, "you have me now... and i'm not going anywhere," jude says softly, "i really like y/n... so much..." he admits seeing a tint of happiness grow upon you. "how much?" you tease earning a deep chuckle from him.
"to the point where i want to call you my girlfriend," you shyly look away biting your lip with contentment and forgetting about the incident inside. "gonna have to prove it to me jude," you dare, seeing jude quickly lose focus and call a taxi along the road.
"how about we hit up the plaza, they have live music you love so much, and then we can have a movie night, see where the night takes us?" he says walking you to the taxi and opening the door.
"lead the way, mr. bellingham."
#jude bellingham#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham blurb#football fanfic#football x reader#footballer
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Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Author: bvidzsoo
Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of human trafficking
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader
Word count: 24,9k
Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)
A/N: Buckle up my friends, this one is a longer one; but it became my absolute favorite one lol. This oneshot now definitely has a special place in my heart. Next part won't be up too soon as I'm busy with things, I hope y'all can understand, I can't wait to write my pookie Mingi's part lol. I hope you'll find it as funny as I do and don't shy away, leave feedback! Enjoy now!
Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni @sharksandminhos @mountiiny
Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part
The life of a princess was lavishing and comfortable. The people around you always had everything you needed and would deliver it to you before you could even ask for it. It was as if they could read your mind, anticipate your thoughts and actions. Princesses were supposed to be beautiful and humble, respectful, with a smile always on their faces. They were supposed to hide their mouths when they laughed, never too loudly, of course, and they weren’t supposed to keep eye contact for too long with a man. Princesses were supposed to be well mannered and studious, and able to hold a conversation about any topic. Princesses were supposed to speak softly and slowly so that everyone could understand them, yet they shouldn’t speak up first, unasked. Princesses were supposed to hold their chins up high and stand with their backs straight, almost gliding when they walked, never allowed to run. Or to skip their beauty sleep, meaning they always had to go to bed early. Of course, they weren’t allowed to be seen with any man, other than their betrothed, and they weren’t allowed to sneak around. Princesses weren’t allowed to talk back to their parents and they had to accept whatever future they built for them. Princesses couldn’t say no to ruling if they were next in line to the throne and they also weren’t allowed to choose their own lovers. Not when they were supposed to marry the prince in the neighboring kingdom who was the same age as them, their marriage unifying two powerful forces: The Sun Rise Kingdom and The South Kingdom. But what was a princess supposed to do if their betrothed disappeared one day without a trace? If he got kidnapped by pirates and then never returned to his parents? To his Kingdom? To fulfill his duties as a monarch and man? What was a princess supposed to do then? I still haven’t figured out that part yet, but for once, I decided to take the reins in my owns hands and write my own future. If my betrothed could disappear off the surface of Earth, then I could do it too. And that is exactly what I did when I turned twenty. I waited for my mother to fall asleep and then quickly packed everything I deemed precious and important for my journey into a briefcase, then dressed in my maid’s clothes and made sure to conceal my face. I had to be swift with my escape and if anyone recognized me, I knew my mother would never let me out of her sight. I wanted to live a free life, to see what I would become if I was stripped of my title. Would I still live comfortably? Would people be finally genuine with me? And not pretend to like me for the sake of a title I inherited by being born into the royal Oh family? I wanted to see if I could fend for myself. But most importantly, I wanted to get away from my mother’s scrutinizing glares and sharp words reminding me daily of who I was. Princess Oh Y/N, next in line to the throne, still waiting for her betrothed to return. At some point I had given up on the fantasy of ever seeing him again. But my mother, however, vehemently believed that my prince would return soon and fix all of his wrongdoings. To be fair, I only remembered his family name at this point, Jung, and barely the shape of his eyes and their color back when he was eleven. We’ve met once in our lives, when we were eleven, and then never again. Because three days later, he was gone. Apparently captured and taken by pirates. Many believed he was dead, many believed he joined those pirates willingly. His family shut down those silly rumors quickly and reassured my mother that he would return and then we’d finally get married.
But I didn’t want to wait for him anymore. It was useless. I didn’t even love him or want him. I didn’t want a total stranger as my King. And as I ran as far away from the castle, heart thumping wildly and feet aching from such strenuous activity for my sheltered body, I realized I didn’t even want to become a Queen anymore. Why would I even want that? To become like my mother? Rigid and vengeful, always having to watch my steps because someone was out for my head? Her own husband tried to kill my mother, my own father, did I truly want that life? For my King to abandon me and wish harm upon me? I did not regret escaping the safety of my castle, of my nation, of my Kingdom. The sailor ship I snuck on was nasty and dirty, filled with drunken sailors as they screamed their lungs out, too wrapped up in their songs to notice a woman struggling to pull her briefcase over the railing. They either didn’t care, or I just hid too well, because they never even bothered looking for me the following days. They never came towards the supply room I was hiding in, and if they did, they quickly grabbed the rum off the shelves and then left the room, whistling loudly. I counted the days, somewhere around five, by the time we decked down. I had no idea where I was as I made a run for it, knocking a few sailors off their feet as I got off the ship, panting and struggling to carry my briefcase. Their shouts were loud but they never bothered chasing after me. I had no idea in which Kingdom I was in, perhaps it was still the Sun Rise, just a smaller island of it. I hoped that wasn’t the case, because I would be back home in no time if anyone recognized me. But in the three years I’ve been living on my own, my identity remained a secret to the people around me, nobody ever recognized me or suspected me of being royalty. Perhaps it was because I lived on one of the Nordic island’s from the South Kingdom, perhaps it was because people never looked for too long at you. They rarely questioned your origins or your life story. Here, everyone seemed to be busy with their own lives and problems. People also weren’t as nice and friendly as back home, but I found it refreshing. For once in my life, I felt like I was truly invisible, left alone and unbothered. Nobody pried for something which didn’t concern them and nobody forced their kindness on you, expecting you to return it one day. If someone here did something for you, it was because they wanted to and not because they secretly wished for you to do the same for them.
I found it easier to live here, the town I settled down in was well off and progressive. Women here were allowed to do as they wished, and so, they opened an institute for the younglings, where governesses would teach them everything they had to know about our world. Girls and boys alike were welcomed, poor and rich, their differences placed aside. The institute is where I found myself working, as a smaller governess, someone who taught the children etiquette. It was a sudden thought I had one night, as I was wondering how I would earn my own money since the one I brought with myself from the castle wouldn’t last me forever, and I realized that for once in my life I could use all of those years of living as a princess to my advantage. Everyone loved well-mannered, well-spoken and studious people, I found myself perfect to do such a job. So, the next day I walked to the institute and proposed to teach said subject and everyone was thrilled by the idea. I didn’t demand for a high pay, the cottage I was living in was fairly cheap when I bought it, and food here seemed to be a lot more accessible than back at my own kingdom. The only pricey items were my canvas, brushes, and colors. I loved to paint and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. Whenever I had free time, which I had lots at the castle, I would sit in the gardens and paint whatever I felt inspired by. Here, in the town, I had less free time, but I managed to balance my attention onto everything. The young mothers seemed to adore me and often brought cookies and delicious meals for me at the institute as a show of gratitude for the work I put in with their children, I often found myself not having to cook anything at home. Living here for the past three years has truly been liberating, however, I couldn’t deny it, I did find myself missing the posh lifestyle from time to time. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and unconsciously reach for the bell to ring for my maids to come open the curtains and window for me. Or sometimes I would find myself sitting at my stand, painting, and if I forgot something I needed, I would scream the name of my most trusted maid, only to realize she wouldn’t be coming around. There were evenings when I was so tired I wanted someone to warm up the water in the bathtub for me and cook me a chicken noodle soup, but unfortunately, I now had to do all that by myself. I couldn’t complain, unless my body was aching from having a strenuous day, which happened less often lately. It was a comforting thought. It means that I was finally becoming familiar with the chosen lifestyle.
I had just finished up my lessons at the institution and after locking up, I walked to the market to see if I could buy some vegetables. It was late in the evening, but some vendors stayed out until the sun was setting. My favorite vendor was still there by the time I walked through the square and I quickly approached her, greeting her with a warm smile.
“Oh, dear,” She smiled back brightly, her hair a light gray color, “I had a feeling you would come by today, I waited for you.”
“You shouldn’t have, Mrs. Chwe.” I picked up two carrots and three potatoes, placing them in my handbag once Mrs. Chwe saw them, “Let me walk you back home, then. The sun will be soon gone, you shouldn’t walk alone.”
“Do not worry about me, dear.” Mrs. Chwe chuckled and handed me two tomatoes with a wink, “I know my way around here better than you do. Nobody casts a second glance at an old dame, unlike you—a beautiful young lady. You better head back quickly.”
I chuckled and grabbed ten pennies from my pouch, “I insist, Mrs. Chwe.”
“And I insist too.” She was a stubborn old lady, “You had a long day, I heard you stayed at the institute all day long. The headmistress stopped by not long ago.”
“Of course,” I chuckled and handed Mrs. Chwe the pennies. The headmistress loved to gossip and talk nonsense, it didn’t surprise me she was quick to let everyone know of my packed day. She was a lady I didn’t quite like, “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you pack up at least?”
“No, no.” Mrs. Chwe shook her head and ushered me away with her hand, “Go home and cook something tasty.”
“Alright, have a good night, Mrs. Chwe!” I bowed with a polite smile and the old lady waved briefly before she turned around with a sigh and started packing away the remained vegetables. I turned around and walked the way I have come, until the main road came to an end and I turned to the left, walking down the deserted street. People were getting inside their houses and getting ready for the evening, the squeals and laughter of little children in the gardens the only sounds besides my footsteps. I sighed and stared up at the sky for a brief moment, taking in the tranquility of the evening. I liked it when nobody was around after a long day. It allowed me time to shake off the stress and plan what I had to do the next day. I turned to the right, walking down a dirt path, small cottages on both sides. A few of my neighbors were out in the gardens or standing in their doorway, conversing with each other. My little cottage was second to last on our street and I walked up to the short stone covered path which lead to the back of the house, greeting my neighbor in the process as he was sipping his tea, holding a book to his face. The entrance was at the back of the house, and I didn’t mind. It was actually what convinced me to buy it. I liked the intimacy it offered. No one could see when I came and went, I knew a few mothers on our street liked to monitor everyone’s steps. I placed the handbag on the ground and reached for the key in my pouch, feeling around for it until I found it. As I pushed the key into the keyhole, I realized my door was unlocked. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared down at my hand, wondering whether I have locked it this morning or not. Did I not lock it? How could I forget such important thing? I scoffed and gently pushed the door open, grabbing the handbag off the ground and stepping inside. Dusk settled upon and it wasn’t bright anymore outside, or in the house, but you could still see well without a light source. As I closed the door behind me and looked ahead, I froze. There, an unknown man, was standing across from me in the room. His back was turned to me and his hands were behind his back as he seemed to be staring up at the wall. At my paintings. I stopped breathing, fearing that he could hear me. He probably heard me enter, yet he hasn’t moved. I carefully placed the handbag on the ground as I kept my eyes on the man, slowly and silently reaching for the vase standing on a stand to the left of the door. It was heavy and old, I brought it with myself from the castle. It was my great-grandmothers. It could also serve as a weapon if necessary. I took in the attire of the man and realized he wasn’t a lieutenant or soldier from the Navy, so he couldn’t have been sent by my mother. But then…who was he? His black cotton pants looked loose around his frame and I could see a white collar peeking out from underneath the heavy coat he was wearing. The jacket looked odd, old and patched up in multiple places, different fabrics stitched to the original one. I didn’t dare assume who this man was, but he looked like he wasn’t exactly a good guy. The second he hummed I knew I had to proceed, so I threw the vase towards him, aiming for his head, but before it could touch him, he jumped away. The vase crashed into the wall and shattered into million pieces, making me frown at the destroyed relic. My mother would kill me right now if she were here with me. The unknown man sharply whirled around, his face morphed into shock as he gasped loudly, dramatically.
“That could’ve been my head!” The man’s voice was squeaky as he pointed at the wall, which the vase initially hit. My eyebrows furrowed at the man’s words and I scoffed, eyes falling onto the pillows I had on the sofa. I didn’t dwell much on the thought just jumped on the couch and grabbed two bigger pillows as I hauled them in his direction. The man screeched as one hit him in the stomach and he suddenly took off towards me, face red.
“Stop right there!” I commanded, heart thumping wildly as I held another pillow out threateningly. The man suddenly froze and he eyed the pillow with narrowed eyes, scoffing when he looked back at me. His face was chiseled and sun-kissed, his jawline sharp. His full lips were cherry colored and his nose big and fitting for his face shape. His eyes weren’t too sharp and held friendliness in them despite the situation we found ourselves in, a mole stood proudly underneath his left eye.
“So, will you throw that one too?” He raised an eyebrow, taunting. His voice was smooth, sounded nothing like the screech he let out mere minutes ago. I gulped and glanced at the pillow I was holding before looking back at the stranger, a handsome one. Without saying anything I threw the pillow at him and he caught it easily, lips pulling up in a lopsided smirk. I quickly took the other two pillows, the last ones, and stood up, staring him down. He dropped the pillow and raised both hands in a motion of peace, but that moved his long coat, the handle of a sword glinting. I gulped before I looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t have to be so aggressive; I didn’t even do anything.” The man said with a tentative smile and my eyebrows furrowed.
“You broke into my home!” I answered incredulously and suddenly realized how smart it was to have soldiers littered around your castle. There was someone who’d be able to protect you from intruders, yet here I was, forced to defend myself on my own. I had to run away while I still could. I had no idea who this man was and what he wanted from me.
“Not my smoothest move, I admit—” The man cleared his throat, still holding his arms up, “But all of your windows were locked.”
“Of course, they were!” I exclaimed, irritated with the man, “So that they keep people like you out.”
The man chuckled and lowered his arms to cross them in front of his chest, “Yeah, and look where that got you—”
I threw one pillow forcefully, managing to knock it into the man’s face. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from laughing as his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked appalled, “Right as I was about to tell you how pretty those paintings are…”
I glanced briefly at my paintings, but took a step back when the man took one towards me, “Thank you, I made them myself. Will you kindly walk out of my house so that I don’t have to scream for my neighbors to call for the constable?”
“Would you not report me if I left now?” The man asked with both of his eyebrows raised and I smiled, remembering all those hours at the castle where I had to learn how to hide my own emotions and how to be persuasive.
“If you don’t harm me, I won’t.” I said softly and the man narrowed his eyes at me, leaning a bit forward, as if he was trying to get a better look at my face. I kept my face neutral and looked him back in the eyes, trying to read his emotions. But his face was a mask of blankness, just like mine, that is until he smirked smugly, stood up straight, and ran both hands through his jelled back black hair.
“I’m not here to harm you, princess.” I couldn’t help the involuntary flinch of my body at the mention of the title, but quickly covered it by starting to fidget around as if I was feeling nervous all of a sudden. The man watched me closely, same smirk still on his lips, “I’m not a savage like that, you know?”
“Then what do you want?” I asked quietly, feigning fear as I quickly made up my route of escape. I throw the pillow at his head again and dash for the door. Then I run down to my neighbor’s house and ask for help. Certainly this man wouldn’t follow through with his plans if I wasn’t alone anymore.
“Money, lots of it.” His answer sounded strangely genuine and I gulped.
“I don’t have much, but I can give it to you—”
“Here you don’t have much, princess.” The glint in his eyes suddenly made me nervous and I tensed, wondering whether that truly was just a nickname or he knew about my true identity. I let out a quiet breath and took the tiniest step towards the door, ready to proceed with my plan, “You wouldn’t have been able to bring much alone, right? Princess Oh Y/N?”
I gasped and gaped at him for a few seconds, millions of questions running through my mind. Who was he? Who sent him? How did he know? What did he want? But as he started looking smug again, I quickly jumped into action and threw the pillow at him, dashing for the door. I successfully flung it open and as I went to run away, a strong arm wrapped around my middle and yanked me back inside the house. I was pressed up against a hard chest and before I could scream, a foul-smelling handkerchief was pressed against my nose and mouth, the man forcing me to inhale it. I tried to wriggle out of his firm grip, but it was useless as suddenly the world started spinning around me, darkness wrapping around my mind before my body went numb, kidnapped by a dreamless sleep.
The first thing that bothered me was the overwhelming smell of cologne. It reeked of men in here as I blinked my eyes open, only to jump up from my sprawled-out position in the unknown bed. The room rocked from left to right violently and for a second I thought my head was spinning, but then I looked out the small circle window, eyes widening when a huge wave crashed against it. I whipped my head around, a horrible realization dawning up on me. I was in a room on a ship! My heart started thumping wildly as I jumped off the bed and stared with my mouth open at the two opened briefcases on the floor, filled with my belongings. Blank canvas and different colored acrylics were scattered around on the floor, and I looked down at my body, realizing that I was wearing my long black coat. That man! He kidnapped me! I wanted to throw something against the wall as I started pacing up and down in the room, realizing that whoever he was, his intentions couldn’t be pure. If we were still close to the shore, I could jump off the ship, and swim back to the beach. But if we were out in the open sea…I was doomed. Was he really here to take me back to my mother? I groaned as I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing at the door. Could it be unlocked? He wouldn’t be so clumsy to leave the door open, right? I hoped he was, because then I could try and escape. I took a deep breath and decided to try my luck as I walked up to the door and grabbed the doorknob. I counted to five before turning it and pushing the door open, making it horribly creak open. I grimaced and hoped nobody was in the corridor to hear it as I realized nobody stood in front of the door. My little moment of happiness was soon crushed as I went to take off towards the right but crashed into a firm chest, a gasp leaving my lips as I recoiled from the body. The sight of the same man who kidnapped me brought little comfort as he raised his eyebrows at me, hands placed on his hips, an almost scolding look on his face. I sighed and knew there wasn’t much I could do now, and as if he read my mind, he took a step towards me, making me take a step backwards.
“Escaping already, princess?” He asked with a chuckle, “I heard you’re good at that.”
My mother would’ve had a fit if she saw me rolling my eyes at the man. He took another step forward and I took another one backwards, back inside the room, “I don’t know who told you that I’m a princess, but they were wrong.”
The man’s face morphed into a fake pout, “I wonder how you made enough money in three years to buy that cottage then.”
“Sold the goods I owned.” My lie was too quick and simple. Nobody would believe it. He took another step towards me, making me back further inside the room.
“Sure you did, princess.” He scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “There’s no use to lying, I can smell a princess from miles away when I see one.”
“Disgusting.” I scrunched my nose, making the man’s eyes widen.
“Not like that!” He defended himself quickly before he sighed, “You know…there’s a large sum promised to the one who brings you back to your kingdom.”
I gulped and took another step back when the man proceeded to walk closer, “I figured I should try my luck and try and find you. It was a lot easier than I expected, I bet your mother misses you like crazy.”
“Well, I don’t miss her.” I snapped and jumped backwards when the man reached out for me, “And I don’t want to return, so I demand you free me. I can still pay you lots of pennies and even gold—”
“Ah, ah.” The man smirked and I stumbled onto the bed when he took another step, too close for my liking, “I want the royal gold, not second hand one.”
“It wouldn’t be second hand!” My voice rose a few octaves, outraged by his assumption, “What do you take me for?!”
“A spoiled princess who thought she could get away until the end of times by hiding away in a painfully small village, way too close to her own kingdom.” I opened my mouth and was quickly left speechless as the man leaned down; head too close to mine for comfort. I tensed and leaned my head back a bit, looking up into his eyes. There was a playful twinkle in them and he licked his lips, chuckling, “I must admit, you look nothing like you were described.”
I gasped in offence, leaning back into the man’s face as I glared at him, “You are one to talk you—ogre!”
Indeed, I admit my insult was weak and didn’t even make sense. The worst thing was the shrill, high-pitched, almost crazy sounding laughter which left the man’s mouth, head thrown back as he started hysterically laughing. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, averting my eyes as the man started to calm down as he wiped away tears from the corner of his eyes, eyes falling on my face. I knew he could read the embarrassment on my face; it was futile to try and hide it now, “That’s the funniest thing anyone has ever called me.”
I huffed and refused to look at him, that is until I felt his soft hands wrap around my wrists. His hands felt cold as I glanced down at them and then back into his eyes. He had amusement still written all over his face, lips pulled up into a grin. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what he was about to do.
“You truly are a princess, princess.” He chuckled, his hands moving mine away from my chest, “You can’t even curse me out normally.”
“Oh, I can.” I smirked at him, making him raise an eyebrow, “I just choose not to, my genius is above that.”
“What a well-educated and well-mannered princess.” The man whispered and I gulped as I got lost in his warm brown eyes. His hands didn’t feel too cold anymore, however I felt something foreign against the skin of my wrist, something harsh. By the time I looked down my right wrist was yanked towards the headboard of the bed by a rope around it.
“What are you doing?!” I exclaimed as I tried to free my other wrist from his grasp, but he was quick as he overpowered me and pulled my wrist next to my other one, the rope already binding them together. My mouth fell open as I tried to free myself, moving as much as I could so that he wouldn’t tie me against the bed, but it did nothing as the man made an intricate knot and huffed as if it was the hardest mission of his life to tie me up, “You—you monster!”
The man stood back with his hands on his hips, looking very unimpressed. He squinted his eyes at me and then smiled fakely, “I’m not a monster nor an ogre, princess, I’m a pirate.”
“That’s even worse.” I sighed out as I moved my wrists, checking to see if there were any chances I could free myself. The man chuckled and stepped back, looking down at my belongings.
“You’ll have to clean up this mess at one point, I hate it when a place gets messy—”
“You do it, then.” I cut him off with a glare, tugging on the rope to no avail.
“I’m not your servant, princess.”
“Stop calling me princess.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as a grin stretched onto his lips, “I have a name, you know.”
“And so do I, princess, but I don’t hear you calling me that.” I groaned as I threw my head back, wondering whether he was doing this on purpose. Trying to annoy me.
“Because I don’t know your name, pirate, that’s why.” For a second the man looked surprised and then he scoffed, acting as if he hadn’t forgotten he never told me his name.
“It’s Wooyoung.” The man, Wooyoung, said and I looked at him, his name oddly familiar. Perhaps I have met someone with the same name before.
“Thank you, pirate, now I’ll know exactly who the royal guard will have to catch..” Wooyoung suddenly became serious as he threw an unimpressed glare my way, before wordlessly walking away. I stared at him wide eyed as he left the room, grabbing the doorknob as he stopped in the doorway and glanced back. Was he about to leave me alone? Tied against the bed?!
“What are you doing?! Where are you going?!” But Wooyoung didn’t answer as he smirked and closed the door, which creaked very loudly once again, and then walked away while whistling loudly, leaving me annoyed and frustrated as I tried to free myself form the bounds, but the rope burned my skin the more I tried. I stopped and groaned loudly, kicking my feet, making a mess of the blanket which was underneath me. This couldn’t get worse, right?
Two days of pure anguish passed by way too slowly, my arms sore and wrists burning from being bound to the bed for so long. No matter how much I asked Wooyoung to release me at least when I was eating, he would act like he was thinking about the idea, and then he’d smirk and draw out a no, then walk out of the room and leave me on my own, struggling to even grab the fork to eat my meal. The food was rather good, but I would never tell Wooyoung; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I appreciated at least one thing he did for me, which was as simple as bringing me food. In order to keep me alive, because eating is a necessity every human has. Even a princess. But to make matters worse, he’d leave the door slightly ajar, taunting me even more by how I couldn’t get to it. He made me want to conjure up all the swear words I knew and hurl them at him, curse him out like a sailor as if there was no tomorrow. Wooyoung was a very frustrating person. He would come and try and have a civil conversation with me, genuinely curious about the way I lived on my own for three years, and then suddenly, like a switch was flipped inside of him, he’d start grinning like a Cheshire cat, and the teasing that followed was relentless and sometimes even offensive. He loved pointing out the fact that I was a princess, and how I had everything always handed to me, acting as if I didn’t live on my own for three years without anyone’s acknowledgement of my true identity. He loved to blabber on about whatever he was supposed to do on deck, something about adjusting the sails accordingly to Jongho’s instructions, whoever that was. And then, as any regular man, he loved to show off his skills and talents. Yesterday while struggling to eat my dinner, he randomly pulled out his sword from his sheathe and took a step back in order to be able to show off his swordplay, shouting at nothing and stabbing the air as if his enemy stood there. I couldn’t help but gape at him, rice almost falling out of my mouth, which was very not princess like, until Wooyoung looked at me with the proudest expression on his face, making me burst out laughing. It was loud and so very unlike the way I would usually laugh, the feeling freeing, the shrillness of my squeals foreign even to myself. In my chaotic laughing fit I even managed to almost choke on the unchewed food in my mouth. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and tried to quiet down, but one look at Wooyoung’s face made me burst out in laughter once again, tummy aching, as he looked at me with utmost confusion, eyebrows furrowed, and one hand on his hip as his other held the sword.
“Why are you laughing?” He had genuinely sounded offended, and I hiccupped as I forced myself to gulp down the food.
“Because—” I had to take a deep breath before continuing, “what are you doing, Wooyoung? Is this what pirates do? Fling their swords around in the air at nothing?”
“I’m not flinging my sword at nothing!” Aggravation filled his voice as he stared at me wide eyed, “I’m—I’m practicing this new technique San showed me.”
He didn’t sound very convinced, and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him amused, “Is that it? Are you sure you aren’t trying to impress the princess?”
“As if!” Wooyoung scoffed appalled, and placed his sword back in its sheathe, “That’s least of my concerns.”
I grinned as I tried to lift the fork to my mouth to eat some more, “Yeah, well, I grew up around Navy soldiers, pirate, a weapon doesn’t impresses me anymore.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you.” Wooyoung quickly defended himself, raising his chin high, the front strands of his hair falling back. His hair was relatively long, it framed over his face. I hated to admit it, but it looked really good. It suited him. I didn’t realize I had started staring until Wooyoung’s eyes snapped onto me, quirking an eyebrow as a smirk slowly etched onto his lips. I sighed loudly before averting my eyes, pretending that I wasn’t openly admiring him, just staring at him in disdain. I ignored the flush of my cheeks, knowing well that if I acknowledged it, then I would become embarrassed and blush even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could make me blush. I dug around in my food, hissing when the rope cut into the skin of my wrist, unable to grab the last pieces of my rice, slowly becoming frustrated. I didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping closer, smirk still present on his face, clearly enjoying my struggle. I really hated being tied up. There was no logic behind it. Where would I run? Up on deck and then do what? Jump into the sea? I wasn’t suicidal, but it seems like Wooyoung didn’t want to understand that I had no intentions of running away. Because I had nowhere to run to. I hadn’t accepted my fate yet; I wasn’t going back to my Kingdom and to my castle, to my mother, to be locked up for an eternity while I wait for my long-lost betrothed. I didn’t want to rule. I didn’t even want to see my mother. I had asked Wooyoung to release me twice already, but he just shook his head and walked off whistling, a pleased look on his irritating face, annoying me like there was no tomorrow. I groaned quietly when I realized I wouldn’t be able to eat the last bite of my dinner, and clumsily threw the fork onto the plate, creating a loud clattering sound. I wonder how these porcelain silverware don’t break on a, sometimes, violently rocking ship. I raised my head with a loud sigh and my eyes widened when I found Wooyoung barely inches away from my face. He raised his eyebrows as I flinched back, putting distance between our faces, his breath fanned over my cheeks. I did not want him that close to myself. When he wouldn’t move away, I glared and placed the plate on the bed next to me, balling up my hands into fists, ready to fight if he tried anything. I didn’t know him and despite him looking harmless he was still a man, and a pirate. All the tales I have heard about them were horrible, and suddenly I felt unsettled as all emotion disappeared from Wooyoung’s face and he looked all over my face, as if he was trying to memorize my features. I gulped, suddenly flustered, my own eyes running over his handsome face. I always thought pirates would be ugly and old. Nobody has ever told tales of young and handsome pirates who returned princesses to their kingdoms. Wasn’t there a price on their heads? What horrible things has Wooyoung done? Suddenly, Wooyoung tsked, and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.
“I swear,” He mumbled, rubbing his chin, leaning uncomfortably close, “I feel like I have seen you before.”
My heart somersaulted in my chest for an unknown reason, and my eyes briefly glanced at his plush lips, before I looked back into his eyes. I hoped he hadn’t seen my slip up, because I had a feeling he would definitely mock me for it later. Wooyoung, however, didn’t look familiar to me. I was positive I have never seen him before; his name, on the other hand, sounded peculiarly familiar.
“Of course, you have seen me before, idiot.” I snapped, trying to ignore the rapid beats of my heart, “I’m a princess. There’s portraits of me, you know?”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and finally, stepped back, but still not far enough. Our knees were touching as I sat by the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he huffed loudly, “I’m not talking about the portraits, silly.”
“Are you saying we have seen each other in person before, then?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this peculiar thought of his. Where and how could we have seen each other before? It’s not like a pirate was often invited to join the socialite parties organized by the Queen herself. Unless Wooyoung wasn’t a pirate all his life. That thought made me gasp silently, and I allowed myself to look all over him again, eyes taking in his attire. Everything about his clothes screamed expensive and they looked fairly new. Not a speck of dust dirtied his outfit, and everything else looked exactly just like that on him, perfect. His buttons were all done, shirt tucked carefully inside his pants, and even the belt seemed to hang around his hips at a perfect angle. His hair, too, was styled and it seemed that he gelled it back in order to keep it out of his eyes. No dirt was smeared on his face nor clothes, and his stance seemed strong, shoulders pulled back, back painfully straight. I haven’t seen a pirate before, but this certainly wasn’t the way they looked. No matter how gentleman like they were.
“I doubt a princess like you roams places like the ones I do, so no, that’s impossible.” Wooyoung retorted, giving me a look which made it obvious that he thought I was dumb. My jaw clenched at his very subtle jab, but I just smiled at him sweetly, too sweetly.
“Unless you weren’t a pirate your whole life, Wooyoung, we might have crossed paths before then.” My sentence should’ve been laughed at, the thought quite out of place and nonsensical. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be a pirate willingly. But the way Wooyoung’s body seemed to suddenly tense and eyebrows furrow was a reaction I did not expect. My eyes narrowed at him as he suddenly cleared his throat and stepped back, snatching the plate off the bed, “Do I happen to be right?”
Wooyoung didn’t answer straight away, just threw a glare my way before he grabbed the handle of his sword tightly. I eyed it as he scoffed, trying to play off the tense air around him, “A princess like you knows nothing, Y/N, stop being silly and shut up.”
“And a pirate like you wouldn’t be so defensive all of a sudden if I wasn’t right—”
“Ah, really, now.” Wooyoung cut me off with a smirk on his lips, again, leaning down to be eye level with me, “You just had to get mouthy when I was starting to debate whether to release you or not.”
My eyes widened as Wooyoung chuckled and ran for the door, just as my mouth opened, “Wooyoung! You nasty pirate, release me, right now!”
He was out the door before I could stop screaming at him, but he had the audacity to poke his head back inside with an amused look on his face, “You can’t command me around, I’m not one of your servants.”
“Yet you bring me everything I need, like a servant.” I fired back at it, a grin pulling onto my lips, the sudden anger disappearing for a few seconds, until Wooyoung slammed the door shut behind him without saying anything else. I let out a frustrated scream and trashed my legs around, until I registered the pain coming from my wrists, realizing I was straining the rope against the already damaged skin. My mother would kill me for turning up bruised after three years of not seeing me.
And I wished Wooyoung’s teasing stopped there, but it didn’t. The following day each time he came inside the room, he would somehow manage to pretend that he was going to release me, only to run away cackling as I just fell back against the hard mattress, biting my lip and blinking away the frustrated tears which threatened to fall. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. It wasn’t worth it. In four more days I would be released, perhaps I could survive that much. Hopefully the rope wouldn’t create an actual wound against my fragile skin. It was somewhere around late evening, the light coming through the small window barely strong enough to light up the room I was held in. I figured it was Wooyoung’s room when he came to retrieve fresh clothes this morning, of course mocking me for not having escaped yet. Perhaps if the bounds weren’t so tight I might’ve done just that. I was sitting on the bed, back pressed against the wooden wall, sighing as I played with the pencil in my hand. I somehow convinced Wooyoung to hand me my sketchbook and a pencil, desperate to do something since I couldn’t sleep and stare out the small window all day long. But the light wasn’t enough anymore for me to see the lines I was creating, and my wrist was aching from drawing all day long. Suddenly, the door was slammed open and I jumped, tensing as I thought it was someone other than Wooyoung, but it was him. He was holding a lantern in his hand as he strutted inside while whistling, looking awfully happy and smug, as he cast me a glance from the corner of his eyes. I scoffed and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at him after he pretended to cut the ropes while I was eating lunch today. I did not appreciate his humorless jokes. Especially since he was mocking me with them.
“Enjoying the sunset, princess?” Hearing the title roll of his tongue so smoothly only irritated me furthermore, and I refused to answer as he placed the lantern on the desk. He brought that in just for me, actually. But I’d rather sit in darkness than be tied up. Wooyoung paused and placed his hands on his hips, looking at me expectantly.
“Not in the mood to talk? That’s new, you always have something to say.” I had to steel myself from rolling my eyes at him as he jutted his lips out in a disgusting pout. How was this man a pirate? Even if he were to threaten me with taking my life, I wouldn’t be able to take him seriously anymore.
“I see you’ve been drawing today.” He muttered, more to himself, as he approached the bed. He leaned one knee against the hard mattress and leaned forward, grabbing my sketchbook. I wanted to swat his hand away, but I didn’t react as I kept ignoring him. Perhaps he’d get bored of teasing me if I didn’t react any way and he’d go away.
“Oh,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at me, “have you seen our ship before?”
We made eye contact but I didn’t answer him as Wooyoung raised his eyebrows even more, waiting for my answer. But I remained unresponsive and he rolled his eyes, “Fine, don’t talk then. The drawing looks eerily similar to our ship, princess. That’s why I asked.”
He was quite dumb if he thought a princess like myself has seen a pirate ship before, let alone this one. Wooyoung dropped the sketchbook into my lap, lips pulled in a straight line as he remained leaning close to me.
“I was in a good mood before I came to visit you, what a pity.” Wooyoung sighed dramatically, eyebrows furrowing and mocking my voice suddenly, “I really thought of releasing you, but—your attitude needs some fixing so I’m giving you a lesson by not setting you free, understand?”
That was the last straw. The tone of his voice, the mocking and malice laced into it made my blood boil as my head whipped forward, face scrunched into a scowl. Before Wooyoung could even react, his proximity allowed for my left hand to smack against his cheek. Despite it being the back of my hand, the slap was strong and loud as Wooyoung jumped back with a loud cry, holding his reddening cheek. His eyes were rounded as he stared at me in shock, and I was breathing hard, glaring at him furiously. Nobody moved or said anything for a few seconds, and suddenly I heard hurried footsteps barreling down the hallway, headed our way. Thanks to Wooyoung leaving the door open, I watched as two men tumbled inside the room, eyes wide and hands on the handle of their swords as they looked around, assessing the situation. They both were tall, but the one on the left was taller, and his black hair was wavy. The man next to him had sharper features and his long hair was pulled into a half ponytail, his corset showing off his delicate curves. My mouth slightly dropped open at the sight, hardly believing that these two handsome men were pirates. But suddenly, the taller one looked at Wooyoung and burst out into loud laughter as Wooyoung whined with a childlike frown.
“Seonghwa!” He exclaimed like a little kid, making me look at him with wide eyes. Why did Wooyoung sound like he was about to tell on me to his mother?
“What are you two—” The taller man’s laughter boomed around us, it brought a smile on my own face, and Seonghwa, the ethereal looking man, seemed to throw him a subtle glare as he had to raise his voice in order to be heard. But Wooyoung left him no chance to speak.
“The princess whacked me—”
“You keep teasing me—”
“Because you’re entitled—”
“I’ve been living on my own for three years, for Heaven’s sake, how am I entitled—”
“You’re still a princess and you keep commanding me around—”
“So you keep mocking me that you’ll release me only to walk away?!” Wooyoung and I were screaming over each other at this point, silencing the taller man’s laughter too, and making Seonghwa look at us puzzled, “It hurts! My wrists are sore and I can’t feel my arms, Wooyoung!”
“Well—well—” Wooyoung went to scream back something, but all he did was open and close his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he started rubbing his cheek. The tall man snorted loudly, but one look from Seonghwa quickly silenced him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he cast me a glance, eyes softening for a second, only to turn into a glare as he looked back at Wooyoung.
“Wooyoung,” He started, voice steady and soft, “Why is the princess tied up?”
My head whipped back to Wooyoung as I waited for his answer, glare burning into his forehead as Wooyoung seemed to be avoiding looking at me. He gulped, but said nothing. The taller man had to bite his lower lip as his body started trembling, on the verge of another fit of laughter.
“Yunho.” Seonghwa snapped, “Stop it.”
“Sorry.” The man mumbled, barely, as he rubbed his stomach and jaw, eyebrows furrowing in a funny way.
“Wooyoung, I asked you a question.” Seonghwa said with a sigh and Wooyoung suddenly crossed his arms, looking like a child.
“I tied her up, because—” Wooyoung shrugged, licking his lips as he rolled his eyes, “I wanted to.”
“You bastard!” I snapped, glaring at him, making Yunho snicker until Seonghwa elbowed him in the stomach harshly.
“Untie her, now.” Seonghwa said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking at Wooyoung unimpressed. He looked like a parent who was scolding their mischievous child. Definitely didn’t fit the image I had of pirates in my head. But perhaps Seonghwa was a leaderlike figure, because Wooyoung grumbled quietly to himself, but grabbed a dagger from his boots, and looked at me with a glare. If it weren’t for already knowing Wooyoung, I perhaps would have been scared to have a pirate look at me like that with a weapon pointed my way, but all I could do was smirk at him. Wooyoung scoffed as he very slowly approached me, drawing out the action on purpose, taking his time in cutting the ropes as Seonghwa and Yunho watched. The later more amused as he kept giggling, making Seonghwa sigh until he had enough and pushed Yunho outside. I let out a sigh of contentment when the ropes were finally gone from my skin and stared at my bruised skin, hissing as I touched it. This would certain require some time to heal and it also wouldn’t be as painless as I had hoped, but at least I was free. Wooyoung said nothing as he stormed off, punching Yunho’s shoulder in the process when he walked past him, making the taller man burst out into laughter again as he followed after his fellow mate.
“I’m sorry for the discomfort caused, princess, but I had no idea Wooyoung was treating you like that.” Seonghwa’s voice was oddly soft and friendly as he stepped further inside, grabbing the rope and gathering it up in his hands. His words made it sound like Wooyoung was doing something very horrible to me and I had the sudden urge to clarify the situation.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I spoke up, looking at Seonghwa warily as he shook his head slightly, “and he fed me regularly, it’s just that—I was rather frustrated by his constant teasing. Hence why I reacted the way I did, I know it wasn’t particularly nice.”
Seonghwa suddenly chuckled and looked at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes, “You’re rather protective of your kidnapper and captor’s actions, princess.”
“I am not!” My response was too quick, it made Seonghwa chuckle. I looked away embarrassed, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Well, then…” He cleared his throat and stepped back, pocketing the rope, “You’re free to do whatever you want while you’re on the ship, except jump into the water. I can assure you that we will not save you by sacrificing one of our own. Your mother wants you back safe and sound, princess, we’re not here to harm you, we’re here to collect the copious amount of payment.”
“You mean Wooyoung is? Since he was the one to find me…” My voice got small as Seonghwa hummed and headed towards the door.
“Indeed, Wooyoung is, but he’s nice enough to share it with his brothers.” Seonghwa grabbed the doorknob as he stepped outside, “I wish you a pleasant evening, princess.”
“You too, pirate.” I bowed my head as Seonghwa bowed his, and then he closed the door behind himself. I quickly jumped out of bed and stretched my legs and back, moaning at the pleasant feeling of my bones finally popping, and my muscles pulling. Wooyoung could’ve avoided all of this ruckus if he were nicer.
I couldn’t have been more excited to finally breathe in fresh air, so, after breakfast I was already up on my feet and changing into a baby blue silk dress, one of my favorites’, which I had brought with myself from the castle. It screamed richness as the collar was decorated with royal opal stones and it missed its matching headpiece, my tiara. I didn’t have the heart to bring that with myself when I left, scared that it would be a giveaway of my origins. After all, the royal opal was a significant gemstone of the Oh family and of the Sun Rise Kingdom. Seonghwa had been kind enough to show me where the washroom was, a small chamber with a barrel inside, which served as a bathtub; it was rather horrifying, until I reminded myself that I was currently on a pirate ship. I couldn’t wrap my mind around having to live like this. Wooyoung, for once, seemed to be avoiding me as he brought me breakfast and left wordlessly or without even glancing my way. I was ready to put our little shenanigans past us and greet him a good morning, but he barely stepped inside and placed the tray of food on the end of the bed before he was already gone, shutting the door after himself roughly. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa coming to check up on me thirty minutes later, I perhaps would’ve burst out crying from having to sit all dirty and coped up in this annoying pirate’s room, which still smelled strongly of cologne. This was also peculiar, because when I started walking down the corridors, all kinds of smells invaded my nose, making me feel nauseous. For a pirate, Wooyoung oddly smelled like a prince. Gripping the skirt of my dress, I slightly lifted it so that I could climb up the stairs, headed towards the blinding sunlight. The salty air felt refreshing as I arrived onto the deck, the wind slightly stronger than it usually would be on the beach back in the village I lived at. The sky was crystal clear, no clouds decorating it, and the vast sea was a beautiful deep blue, glistening and foaming as the ship sailed smoothly. I had approached the railing and looked over it, marveling at the beauty around myself, never having seen such sight before. When I escaped from my kingdom I was forced to hide under the deck the whole ride, I didn’t have the opportunity to look at the sea. There was something very calming and beautiful about it, I loved sitting on the beach in the evenings and watching the sunset. Suddenly, my heart clenched when I realized I would no longer be able to do that, the city where the royal Oh family resided was a four-hour long carriage ride away from the beach, my mother would never allow me to travel back and forth.
“Careful, you might fall over.” A very deep voice suddenly spoke up next to me and I was startled as I stepped back from the railing, looking to my right. A friendly looking man stood next to me; his lips pulled into a small smile. His angelic features didn’t match his low voice at all. I smiled at him and bowed my head slightly.
“Seonghwa told me you wouldn’t rescue me if that happened.” I said with a chuckle and the man’s eyebrows furrowed.
“That is quite incorrect, we don’t leave one of our own behind.” The man said with conviction and glanced past me, eyes slightly narrowing. I followed his gaze and my eyes settled on Seonghwa, who was gripping the wheel and holding a binocular to his eye as he gazed out towards horizon.
“Perhaps he was trying to scare me, then.” I chuckled and looked back at Yeosang, offering him my hand, “My name is Y/N.”
“My name is Yeosang.” He took my hand, and to my surprise, swiftly pressed a kiss against it, slightly curtsying, “Pleasure to meet you, Princess Y/N.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pulled my hand back, having not been treated with such respect in the past three years. The feeling was foreign, yet it felt right. I didn’t miss it, but for the first time I felt like someone on this ship truly respected me. Unlike with Wooyoung, I could see myself becoming fond of Yeosang. And then, suddenly, there was a quiet squeak behind him, and he slightly turned his head, a fond smile appearing on Yeosang’s lips as he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed, and I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Then his lips moved, but his voice was low and the crashing of waves completely overrode his words. I stood watching curiously as Yeosang nodded, and suddenly, a head popped out from behind his shoulder. My eyes instantly widened as I looked at the young girl, her sharp eyes wide with wonder and admiration as her eyes quickly stopped on my dress.
“This is Hana.” Yeosang’s hand suddenly gripped the girl’s, their fingers intertwined. She looked so small next to him, she was smaller than even myself, and I wasn’t a very tall woman, “She’s shy, but she wanted me to tell you that she adores your dress.”
My lips pulled up into a wide smile as I beamed at her, gripping the fabric of my dress, “Thank you, Hana! It is my favorite dress, actually.”
“You’re pretty too, Princess.” Hana’s voice was velvety and quiet, but I heard her. I bowed my head and her eyes widened as she quickly bowed back, seemingly not knowing how to react. She was wearing clothes like the rest of the pirates, albeit the shirt seemed too big for her frame, and a belt held the pants against her narrow hips. She looked a bit malnourished, but her cheeks were full of color despite her pale complexion.
“Thank you, Hana, you’re very lovely yourself.” Hana’s lips pulled up into a huge smile and her head turned quickly as she beamed up at Yeosang. The man’s attention seemed to be on her only, his ears-tinged red, as he nodded at Hana, a proud glint in his eyes. Hana’s cheeks were pink and she hid herself behind Yeosang, completely disappearing. It was endearing watching the two, watching how Yeosang’s built frame offered the girl protection, shielding her from unwanted eyes and any harm.
“She’s still learning how to accept compliments.” Yeosang explained and I nodded, not wanting to probe for a reason, nevertheless still curious. Yeosang placed his hands in his pockets and slightly bowed his head, “We’ll be on our way, Princess, we’re quite busy today. Taeri and I have collected some new herbs, and I’m excited to make a new tea I have learned not so long ago.”
Taeri. So there was one more woman on this ship besides Hana. It felt nice knowing that I wasn’t the only female surrounded by slimy pirates, although they proved to be quite the opposite of slimy. Yeosang’s comment caught my attention, however, people who knew how to use herbs to make teas were usually healers, “Excuse me, Yeosang, do you happen to be a healer?”
“I’m a doctor, actually.” He corrected and I let out a sigh of relief before I slightly pulled the sleeve of my dress up on my left arm. Yeosang’s eyes fell onto my wrist, eyebrows furrowing when he saw the red skin and dark bruises, “That isn’t good. It hurts, right?”
I nodded wordlessly and noticed Hana just barely poking her head over Yeosang’s shoulder, standing on her tip toes, but she quickly cringed away when she saw the bruises. They didn’t even look that bad, but perhaps she had a reason why she reacted that way.
“I will stop by after lunch with some ointment and a tea, you’re staying in Wooyoung’s room, right?” Yeosang asked with a smile and I nodded with a long sigh, making Yeosang chuckle, “Well, then you’re never bored.”
“I wish I was.” I muttered as Yeosang and Hana passed by me, Hana slightly waving at me before hiding her face in Yeosang’s back. I chuckled and smiled after them, the scent of freesias’ strong as they passed by. I watched the two as they disappeared below deck, Hana bouncing off the stairs more freely when it was just the two of them. I couldn’t help but feel happy that nice people were present on this ship and that I felt like I was welcomed here. As I looked around, I noticed Seonghwa had abandoned his post and was leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck, nodding his head in acknowledgment as we made eye contact. Another man had taken his place at the wheel, significantly shorter than Seonghwa, and with eyes sharper, and an aura which screamed dominance. His hair was blonde and the back strands had reached his shoulders, a black cloth was wrapped around tightly over his shirt on his right bicep. It didn’t take long to realize he was the Captain. I sighed, and turned around, realizing that I still didn’t have much to do. I was free, but still captive in some way and since I was a princess on a pirate ship, I really couldn’t do anything else than stay in Wooyoung’s room all day long and come up on deck for some fresh air from time to time. And perhaps that was the smartest choice, because as I decided to head downstairs, I caught the eyes of some older looking pirates, which looked just like I had imagined them. They were leaning against some barrels, sharpening their knives and daggers as their eyes followed every movement of mine. I gulped and hugged myself around my middle as I straightened my back; a princess never shows weakness. The pirates chuckled, seemingly amused by my actions, and I held my chin higher as I went to take off, only for my upper arm to be gripped and slightly pulled back. The stench hit me first, before I could even turn around, and I yelped once I came face to face with a very old pirate who looked like, and smelled like, he hadn’t had a bath in years. One of his eye was fully white and his beard awfully outgrown, clothes ragged, and a stain on his cheek which I could only hope was some sort of oil.
“Royal flesh on the ship—” The pirate spat on the floor and I gasped, taking a step back but his grip on me didn’t allow for me to go too far, “Flaunting ye wealth while we rot away. Shark food is what ye are, rat. I might push ye over—”
“Easy, mate,” I never heard him approaching us, let alone unsheathing his sword, but it was pressing against the old pirate’s Adam’s Apple in a blink, “Don’t play with something that isn’t yours. Release her, now.”
“Claimed her as yers, eh?” The old pirate grinned sickly and a few of his teeth were missing, eyes twinkling as he looked Wooyoung in the eyes. I tugged on my arm, but the man’s grip wasn’t easing up just yet.
“The Princess is mine, mate, and I don’t like it when someone touches what’s mine.” Wooyoung’s voice dropped dangerously low and my eyes widened as I looked at him, his glare on the man menacing. The old pirate just laughed, a throaty and hoarse sound, before suddenly his grip was gone as Wooyoung’s sword was swiftly raised in the air, coming down towards the man’s wrist. The old pirate yelled and jumped backwards, clutching his unharmed wrist to his chest, eyes crazed and wide as he stared at Wooyoung, “Go tell your old little friends that if anyone touches the Princess their hands won’t be no more. Both hands.”
“The Captain will hear about this—”
“And he’ll do nothing about it,” Wooyoung smirked smugly as he pressed the sword against the wooden floor, leaning his weight against it as his hands rested on top of the handle, “I’m sharing the prize with him, do you think he won’t side with me?”
“Royal scum.” The old pirate spat and wobbled off, his comment making Wooyoung laugh as he placed his sword back onto its sheathe. I watched as the old man joined the pirates who had been previously eyeing me hungrily and spoke furiously to them, probably recounting what happened just seconds ago. Wooyoung looked at me for the first time today, and I couldn’t help but let out a shuddered breath. I wasn’t so safe on this ship, after all, and not all pirates were like Wooyoung. Or like Seonghwa, Yunho, and Yeosang. I subconsciously rubbed my wrist, wincing at the pain; I had forgotten they were bruised. Wooyoung’s eyes followed my actions and he gulped when I showed signs of pain, but didn’t speak up.
“Thank you for that.” I said quietly, suddenly feeling shy as I looked away. Wooyoung hummed and rubbed the back of his head, patting his sleeveless tank top down. His clothes seemed to be fresh once again. How did a pirate constantly wear a new set of clothes, wardrobe never seeming to empty out? Did they even have that much money? Why did the pirate say royal scum? Did he refer to me? Then why did he say it to Wooyoung? My eyebrows furrowed as I looked back at Wooyoung, who seemed rather modest despite helping me out. I thought he’d be smugger about it.
“No need to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” He shrugged and cleared his throat, “Uh, you’re—you’re not mine, I just had to make sure that man wouldn’t bother you anymore. Pirates tend to be…more possessive of what’s theirs so, uhm, by saying you’re mine I made it clear that if he touched you he’d be facing punishment.”
I could’ve sworn Wooyoung was blushing, but he turned his head around, pretending to be looking for someone as his eyes searched the deck. I appreciated his explanation, but for some weird reason I didn’t find it infuriating that he pretended to claim me. By no means was I an object to be claimed, but the way he said it…it felt different. Like it meant more than just a simple claim. Before my thoughts could steal me away from reality, a man called out for Wooyoung.
“Stop flirting with the Princess and bring your ass over here!” It was Yunho, and he was standing next to a man I hadn’t met yet, but he was glaring at the arm Yunho had slung over his shoulders before he went and brushed it off, “Jongho is upset again, you overslept and didn’t do your duties.”
Wooyoung groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced back at me, “Sorry, princess, but I have to tend to my real duties now.”
I couldn’t help but allow a smirk to sneak onto my lips, “So, you do admit that the other day you were just trying to impress me if whatever you’re about to do is your real purpose on this ship.”
“Yeah, I—what?!” Wooyoung exclaimed appalled and his eyebrows furrowed, “I wasn’t trying to impress you, stop making things seem like something they aren’t!”
“But you just almost confessed to it.” I smiled sneakily and Wooyoung groaned.
“Go have a beauty sleep, princess, you look like you need one.” I gasped, but before I could throw an insult back at Wooyoung, he ran off to Yunho and Jongho, I assume, getting tackled into a headlock by the man I wasn’t familiar with yet. I held my chin high and turned around, storming down the stairs and towards Wooyoung’s room, knowing that he stored a mirror in one of his drawers, eager to see whatever he was talking about. There was no way I didn’t look spectacular today, I made sure there were no signs that I barely got a wink of sleep since I had gotten onto the ship. Outrageous. Wooyoung was so annoying.
Another day had gone by fast without much happening on the ship. Wooyoung was busy with that Jongho pirate, apparently he had been slacking off lately and the Captain had summoned him this morning, asking for an explanation. When Wooyoung didn’t show up with breakfast, I thought about wandering around in search for the kitchen, but Seonghwa beat me to it as he brought me breakfast and let me know that I might be seeing less of Wooyoung the following days. I didn’t mind, in fact, I was grateful that he wouldn’t chew off my ears anymore; at least now I had a little bit of peace of mind before we reached my Kingdom and castle. It gave me time to figure out a plan which would help me escape my mother once again. I knew she’d hate me and probably exile me from the Kingdom, but it’s exactly what I wanted. To get rid of my royal duties as next in line to the throne. I didn’t want to rule in a place which felt like a prison, in a place which wasn’t complete without its King, and in a place where I would never be taken seriously. All of my mother’s advisors dislike me, and had always been against me inheriting the throne, always encouraging my mother to try for another baby in hopes of it being a boy so that he’d bear the crown. But my mother didn’t want another child as her labor was difficult with me and she almost lost her life in the process of giving birth. I was her only hope, and despite that, all I kept doing was disappoint her. I should’ve felt bad about it, but I stopped caring when she started becoming more and more demanding and pressuring. Perhaps if I could somehow convince her that I was back for good and intended on staying, that I have matured and grown to regret my decision, I would earn her trust again, after all I am her only child, then perhaps she’ll crown me and unknowingly fall into my trap. She’d willingly and legally hand over all the fortune which I would run away with later, once I have ruled for enough time to get everyone off my back. But for that…I need someone on my side, someone who would help me. But who would be that person? I didn’t know many people who would do that for me, let alone whom I trusted enough to tell the plan to. Perhaps…would a pirate be interested in playing along with me if I promised enough gold in return for their services?
That was a question I didn’t know the answer to, and I sighed as I glanced back up at the horizon, sky coated in dark shades of pink mixed with purple and a little bit of orange. The sun was setting, creating a beautiful landscape as the ship swayed gently side to side. A few clouds decorated the sky here and there, promising a storm free night. The breeze was gentle as I sat by the railing, feet pushed through the gaps and dangling off the side of the ship as I swayed my legs from time to time, trying to avoid numbness in them. My right hand held my sketchbook as I held a dark blue crayon in my left hand, drawing out the waves onto my drawing. A few more colored crayons sat carefully by my thigh as I made sure they wouldn’t roll away; my heart would break if I lost any colors. I couldn’t live without painting or drawing; it was the one thing I couldn’t leave behind alongside with my title.
The setting was peaceful, and I enjoyed the fresh air and solitude for as long as I could, no pirate in sight as the deck was empty. I thought they never left the deck unsupervised, but perhaps so far out in the sea there were no dangers of other people showing up. Or perhaps these pirates were just confident about their combat skills and they didn’t have to be on the lookout at all time. However, the girl sitting next to me was so quiet, that I completely forgot about her existence if it weren’t for her sneezing, making me jump. My eyes widened as I turned my head and looked at the petite girl, her cheeks rosy as she looked away embarrassed. She has been sitting by my side for the past hour, not saying a word, just watching my drawing. She looked curious as her wide eyes watched carefully each swipe of my hand, her fingers sometimes itching as she reached out, only to sit back and place her hands underneath her thighs. I didn’t know if she whether wanted to be acknowledged or not, so I remained silent, and allowed her the choice to speak up or remain silent. She seemed content in my presence, and it made me smile to myself as she gasped when I created ripples in the water on my sketchbook, leaning forward on her hands as she pocked her head closer.
“Are you feeling cold, Hana?” I asked as I stopped drawing, looking at the younger girl. She jumped and quickly leaned back; cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her nose was red and she had started sniffing as she sneezed again. When Hana realized I wouldn’t continue drawing until she gave me an answer, she quickly shook her head no. I nodded, but decided to take off my shawl from around my shoulders, and hand it over to her. Hana eyed the piece of clothing curiously, reluctantly taking it, “You keep sneezing, wear it, so you don’t catch a flu.”
“Oh, Princess—” Her eyes widened as she bowed her head deeply, her hands clenched, “I really shouldn’t—”
“You most certainly should, Hana,” I chuckled and placed the shawl on her lap, “I insist. Besides, I’m sure Yeosang would be rather worried if you suddenly were to become sick.”
“I’d rather not have him worried about me again…” Hana whispered and quickly wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, the orange fabric complementing her skin tone. I hummed and went back to drawing, the late evening breeze was colder, and it made goosebumps erupt on my skin. I should follow my own advice, and head back to Wooyoung’s room soon, get ready for bed and dinner. It wouldn’t be long until he’d bring me dinner, perhaps I still had time to quickly wash up. I watched from the corner of my eyes as Hana followed each movement of my hands with her eyes, lips opened in awe, looking like she was trying to memorize each line I was drawing.
“Tell me, Hana,” I spoke up as I grabbed the orange crayon, “Do you happen to enjoy drawing?”
Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly, her lips pulled into a wide smile, “I do, Princess! I have made a few sketches myself ever since Yeosang gifted me some canvas and pencils.”
“I actually prefer to paint, but I think the pirates would’ve been outraged if I brought my whole equipment up here.” I rolled my eyes and Hana chuckled, hiding her blush with the shawl.
“Some of them are actually really nice, and Taeri is very helpful and attentive—” Hana abruptly looked away, it looked like she was about to cry, “they take good care of you here, it’s weird. I bet you expected them to be barbarians, Princess, and yet sometimes these men act like little children.”
I laughed quietly and nodded, thoughts straying to Wooyoung. He definitely didn’t act like a pirate, his antics resembling that of a spoiled little child. Taeri I have met earlier today, when she came to Wooyoung’s room, asking if I needed anything or if Wooyoung was bothering me in any way. She had a very motherly aura as we conversed, and I was surprised to find out that she had been living on the ship for ten years now, a pirate herself. Before our conversation could stray to the reason why I ran away from home, Yunho came looking for her, boyish grin on his lips as Taeri told him she’d be joining him in a second. Apparently, they had to check out the supply room, making sure we had enough of everything until we reached land. As I went to close the door after Taeri and Yunho’s departure, I caught a glimpse of Yunho pressing his lips against Taeri’s neck, pushing her down the corner as they disappeared from sight. I closed the door with a shake of my head, wondering if Wooyoung had anyone like Taeri in his life. The thought was sudden and surprising, and before I could dwell more on it, I quickly shook my head and went to dig through my briefcases, searching for something which would keep me warm if I went up on the deck.
“They certainly left an impression on me,” I said with a chuckle, making Hana nod, “but I can’t help feel resignment towards them, especially Wooyoung. He’s the one who captured me, and he is the reason why I’ll be seeing my mother in just a few days—”
“But being a princess must be so nice, I can’t find a reason why I would run away if I was in your place, Princess.” Hana cut me off, words tumbling out of her mouth eagerly, as her eyebrows were furrowed. I hummed and looked off in the distance, eyes unfocused as my grip loosened on my sketchbook. Yes, perhaps, this is how outsiders think of a privileged life. They don’t really have a chance to find out about our hardships, and even then, are we allowed to whine and complain? Are we allowed to wallow in desperation when other people have it so much harder? When other people barely have anything, and are fighting to survive day to day, meanwhile I cry myself to sleep because my mother wouldn’t allow me to paint unless I have attended my etiquette class? As I turned to look at the girl next to me, I couldn’t help but wonder about what her life was like. Wonder what her biggest worries and fears were, anything which would take my head out of the gutter and ground me back to reality. Here I was, on the verge of throwing a fit about not wanting to return home, when the girl next to me seemed to jump at any loud sounds, seemed to become smaller when a man came into sight, seemed to hesitate every time she spoke up, seemed to have scars peeking out from underneath her long sleeves. She was pure and innocent yet the look in her eyes made her look older, tired, and horrified of the world around her, as if she’s seen horrors nobody else has. I didn’t have it in me to tell her the reason why I didn’t want to return home, it felt like I would be making fun of her, taunting her even, so, instead I dodged her question as best as I could.
“Please, call me just Y/N,” I smiled at her and watched as her cheeks turned pink, “I haven’t been a proper princess for three years, it doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh, alright, I shall do that—” Hana seemed to struggle for a second until she ducked her head and whispered, “Y/N.”
I smiled fondly at her and nodded, looking down at my almost finished drawing. The sun had almost disappeared and the air has turned cold, making me shiver. I grabbed a purple crayon and quickly finished the sketch, bringing it up to my eyes, making sure it was finished. I could see Hana lean closer, wide eyes filled with curiosity as I turned towards her and handed her the sketchbook. She looked surprised, but eager as she took it from my hands, staring at the sketch in awe. Her small fingers delicately traced the same lines I had done minutes ago, eyebrows furrowed as she examined my technique.
“It’s for you, Hana, you can keep the drawing.” I found myself saying, taken aback when Hana looked at me with tearful eyes. She was smiling still, but she looked overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do or say, taken aback by her reaction, so I settled for, “It’s a gift, so you can’t refuse it.”
It made Hana cry and my eyes widened as I panicked, thinking that I have said something wrong, but she quickly clutched the sketchbook to her chest, and smiled so widely her cheeks must have hurt, “Nobody has ever given me a gift so beautiful!”
I felt my heart warm at her words and I chuckled, leaning forward to wipe a tear off her cheek, “Don’t cry, Hana, your eyes will be puffy in the morning.”
She giggled and wiped her tears away quickly, bowing her head in thankfulness, “Thank you, Princess Y/N.”
“You said you only had pencils?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the crayons from next to me. Hana nodded as she carefully ripped the page I have gifted to her out of the sketchbook before she handed it back to me. I took the sketchbook and grabbed her wrist, turning her palm, “Take the crayons too. The world would be so grim without colors, I’m sure your drawings will look even prettier with them.”
I placed the crayons in her palm and Hana gasped, gaping at me as I stood up and dusted off the skirt of my dress, bringing my arms around myself in order to try and warm up. Hana scrambled to her feet, and having noticed that I was feeling cold, she went to hand back the shawl, but I stopped her with a raise of my hand, “Keep it, I have plenty of shawls like that one.”
“Oh, Princess—” She brought a hand to her mouth as her lower lip trembled and I just chuckled, feeling slightly concerned. What has happened to this girl before that she was reacting in such way? I’ve never seen anyone so overwhelmed at the simple action such as receiving gifts, “I am so grateful! Thank you so much! I don’t—I don’t even know how to repay you—actually! Come join us for dinner tonight…Ara will sing for us, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Her voice is so pretty, and she’ll be so happy to sing for a Princess like you, Y/N.”
“There’s another girl on the ship?” I asked surprised, eyebrows raising as Hana grabbed my arm softly, and started pulling me towards the stairs.
“Yes, but she rarely leaves her room. She’s—” Hana stiffened for a second, I wouldn’t have caught it if she didn’t stop walking, “San doesn’t like letting her out of his sight, he’s—Would you like to meet Ara before dinner?”
I listened to Hana with furrowed eyebrows, taking in the new information, slightly confused about who San was. Wooyoung mentioned him once briefly, something about learning something from him, but I haven’t seen the man yet. I hadn’t even known there was another woman on the ship, nobody ever talked about her, it was peculiar. But Hana seemed very eager, and so I nodded, not wanting to ruin her good mood as she pulled me after herself, leading us underneath deck. She turned to the left and walked down the corridor, we passed by four doors, until she suddenly stopped walking. I almost ran into her, but noticed in time. Hana was suddenly tense, and I looked down at her, eyebrows raised, but she quickly let go of me and pressed herself up against the wall.
“Her room is the last on the left—” A loud crashing sound echoed down the corridor and Hana sucked in a deep breath, “I—I can’t go closer, I’m sorry, I should walk you there, but I—”
“It’s fine, Hana.” I stopped her rambling, offering her a comforting smile. Hana gulped loudly and nodded, looking down at the floor, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
She nodded quietly and slipped past me, figure tense, “I’ll see you at dinner then, Y/N. Thank you for the gifts.”
“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” I bowed my head back as Hana curtsied, and turned back towards the end of the corridor, wondering why Hana wouldn’t walk me to Ara’s door. I thought she would like to see the girl, but perhaps I was wrong. I sighed and took off again, but the closer I got, the louder the voices were from one room. As I came face to face with the door Hana told me about, the mentioned voices seemed to come from inside, loud and angry. It was mainly a male voice, shouting about something he didn’t care about as he claimed that it was his job and nobody could stop him from doing it, and then, a shrill feminine voice shouting back that he couldn’t do this, that he was hurting people and ruining lives. I gulped and was about to walk away when the feminine voice shouted for the man to get out, and suddenly, the door was ripped open and I found myself face to face with a fuming man, who’s sharp eyes looked like they could kill anyone if he stared at them long enough. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched as he took me in. I glanced behind him and found a shorter girl, crying, as her big brown eyes stared back at me. Why were all the girls crying here? Suddenly, the man hissed, and I straightened my back, giving him a glare.
“What do you want?” He snapped, glaring me down.
“Is that Ara?” I asked as I glanced at the girl again, who was quick to wipe her tears away and pat her short hair down.
“What do you want from her?” The man now blocked my path, chest puffed out and stare pinning me to my place. But that wouldn’t work on me, I have been facing scarier looking men compared to him since a young age.
“I would like to talk to her—”
“No, walk along now—” The man didn’t even let me finish my sentence as he cut me off, nose flaring as he became angrier. Perhaps this person was San, Hana did say he never let Ara out of his sight.
“I am here,” I was the one to cut off his words now, taking a step closer as we stared each other down, “to talk to Ara. Whether you like that or not, it will happen, pirate. Step aside.”
The man scoffed and narrowed his eyes at me, sneering, “We aren’t in your fucking palace, Princess, you won’t command me around. Do you even know who I am?”
I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Do I have to know? Clearly, you are a very overbearing person who’s getting on my nerves right now. You should do what I ask while I’m being nice, pirate.”
“Listen here, spoiled brat—”
“That is not how you talk to a Princess!” Ara shrieked and before the man or I could react, she was by his side, pulling him away from me. I watched the two with narrowed eyes, glaring at the man as he scoffed, but looked at Ara when she grabbed his bicep, “San, treat her with respect, she’s royalty. The next Queen.”
“I don’t give a fuck about who she is.” He chuckled, but it was humorless. Ara bit her lower lip and spare me a quick glance before she took a deep breath.
“San, please—”
“I said no, Ara, you’re not going with her.” San snapped, and shook Ara’s grip off himself, “So that she can feed more bullshit into your head?! Like Taeri has? No, Ara. Get lost, Princess.”
San’s eyes snapped onto me, glaring as he went to slam the door in my face, but before I could react, Ara was stood in front of him, standing in the doorway, and not allowing him to close it. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as Ara grabbed San’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. San’s body grew tense and his jaw clenched as the girl clung onto him.
“Please,” Ara’s voice was barely over a whisper, I strained my ears to hear her words, “I—I will stop. Everything. San, please, let me walk with her. No more Taeri, I will never talk to her again, I promise just—let me talk to the Princess. It’s my only chance to be around royalty, you know that.”
San swiftly grabbed Ara’s nape, leaning slightly down so that they would be eye to eye. He raised his right hand and pointed his forefinger at the woman, “You better keep your word, angel, or else you will regret it.”
Ara nodded wordlessly and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, San released her and stepped back, sharp eyes falling on me. His demeanor seemed to change, he almost looked calm, almost. He pointed his finger at me, “You have twenty minutes with her.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I grabbed Ara and pulled her out of the room, slamming the door after ourselves. My blood was boiling as I took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation and the relationship these two seemed to have. Ara was an anxious mess next to me as she fidgeted with her fingers and when I glanced at her, she gasped.
“I am so sorry, Princess, he shouldn’t have treated you like that nor spoken to you like that! San has issues controlling his temper, I can assure you that he didn’t mean any of that—” I placed a hand over Ara’s shoulder, she quickly averted her eyes.
“Do not apologize for him, Ara, and do not defend him when he behaves like that with you. He meant everything he said, no need to try and turn his words around.” I couldn’t help but feel aggravated as Ara chewed on her lower lip, suddenly bowing deeply.
“I apologize profusely, Princess, this is certainly not the way I hoped to see you for the first time—” She suddenly sniffed and my heart clenched, “I am so embarrassed right now, I can’t even put it into words.”
I sighed and grabbed Ara’s hand, making her stand up straight. I offered her a small soft smile, raising her chin up as her eyes were filled with tears, “Your actions are admirable as many would’ve cowered in front of him. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let us walk then…”
Ara forced a smile onto her face as she stood next to me, and we took down the corridor. I had no idea where we could walk to, but perhaps going to Wooyoung’s room for starters was a good idea. If she didn’t leave her room often, I didn’t know if bringing her on the deck was too smart, maybe it would make San leash out on her again, and I didn’t want that to happen.
“My name is Y/N, Hana told me you would be singing after dinner tonight?” I spoke up when the air was filled with tension. Ara’s shoulders were suddenly pulled back, her demeanor changing scarily fast, as a very charming smile appeared on her lips.
“Yes, Princess Y/N, I shall be your entertainer tonight, my name is Im Ara.” She curtsied quickly and I chuckled, intrigued by her change of character.
“Have you entertained aristocrats or royalty before?” I asked curiously, her attitude way too professional. It certainly didn’t seem like this would be her first time speaking to important people.
“You would be the first one, Princess Y/N.” Ara bowed her head slightly and I looked at her surprised as we reached Wooyoung’s room. It was on the other end of the corridor from San’s room.
“What is an entertainer and a beautiful lady like you doing on a pirate ship?” I asked, genuinely curious, as I pushed Wooyoung’s door open, the room empty. He was always absent before dinner, I wondered where he disappeared to every day. Ara seemed to tense because of my question as I led her inside, suddenly embarrassed about the mess in the room. My things were thrown all around the room, dresses falling out of the briefcases messily, and my paintings were laying around on the floor. Ara took in the sight surprised, but when we made eye contact she quickly masked it with a pleasant smile and placed her hands behind her back.
“I was kidnapped by San.” The look on her face didn’t match her words, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Ara, waiting for her to tell me the real reason. But when she just continued staring at me with an emotionless smile on her face, my stomach dropped.
“He—you what?” I asked shocked, and Ara’s smile fell as her face turned solemn.
“I was walking home from the Inn I worked at one night. My boss warned me that Ateez were in town, but I thought I was safe, that nothing would happen to me. That’s when San kidnapped me to sell me off to a wealthy man, but as you can see…I had the misfortune of staying with him—”
“This is horrible!” I gasped as I placed a hand over my mouth, watching her in horror as Ara seemed unaffected by whatever she was saying. Like she had accepted her fate.
“I begged him to let me stay with him, I wanted this,” She sighed, her shoulders slouching forward, “Trust me, Princess, staying here and living with him is a lot better than whatever fate was waiting for me once I was sold.”
I shuddered just at the thought of getting sold off by someone, “Does he do this often?”
Ara chuckled humorlessly, “It’s one of the many businesses he gets by, we were just arguing about it earlier before you came. I don’t understand why I bother to try to change his mind, it’s fruitless. But I—I can’t just stand by and watch as he ruins so many lives—not when I went through that. Not when I know the kind of thoughts which cross your mind during those moments, the dread which fills your body, the despair and uncertainty of what will happen to you. I have to stop him, Princess, I’m trying so hard, but he’s—too strong. He holds too much power, and he doesn’t care at all about the consequences of his actions.”
“He seems to care, since he gave in so quickly to you.” I muttered and Ara shook her head sadly.
“He only gave in because he got something out of it.” I gulped at Ara’s words, feeling the weight of them.
“Will you—stop? What you were doing before, whatever that is?” I inquired quietly, and suddenly there was a glint in Ara’s eyes, but she quickly masked it as she frowned, looking around with fake sadness etched onto her face.
“It’s best if I don’t bother a Princess with such topics, isn’t it?” I smiled, understanding the hidden message in her words, and hummed, looking around, eyes falling on my gowns. I looked back at Ara, noticing her gaze on the gowns too. I smiled and walked up to the briefcase, picking up a beige colored cotton gown, glittering golden like stripes decorating the long sleeves of it. Ara’s eyes widened as she stared at it longingly. I let my eyes run over her form before I looked down at the gown, mentally comparing her frame to my gown. She was slightly taller than me, but seemed to be around the same dimensions as myself, so, with a big smile I extended the gown towards her. Ara’s eyes widened as she looked at me, taking a step back taken aback.
“What—what are you doing, Princess?” She asked alarmed. I chuckled and approached her, pulling her hands from behind her back.
“The entertainer must look stellar when on stage, especially if they have a Princess in their audience.” Ara’s eyes widened as she grabbed the gown, hugging it to her chest, “I think it will fit you nicely, Ara.”
“Thank you, my Princess,” Ara bowed her head deeply, beaming with happiness, “I will forever be grateful and indebted to you.”
“Oh, well,” I chuckled and waved her words off, “you could start by simply calling me Y/N, and I suppose your debt would instantly disappear.”
“I could never do that, Princess!” She gasped and watched me as if I had two heads, “You deserve respect and to be properly addressed to.”
I chuckled and pretended to think, “Well in that case, keep the gown. It’ll show just how grateful you are.”
Ara’s eyes widened and she bowed again, making me bow back, alarming her as she quickly pushed me to stand up straight. I giggled and Ara huffed, as if I had been a disobedient child antagonizing her. She seemed lovely and very well mannered.
“I shall go and get ready, I look forward to seeing you later, Princess.” Ara curtsied and I nodded with a smile, waving at her as she left the room. As I went to close the door after her, I heard a high-pitched squeal echo down the corridor, making me chuckle to myself as I debated whether I should wear or not a representative dress of the Oh family to make Ara even happier.
I didn’t want to out dress Ara as I had given one of my most beautiful gowns to her, but I knew she would absolutely love seeing me in the Oh family’s colors, therefore I chose to wear a dress which has been passed down for generations. It was a cotton dress, dark blue with silver highlights and a belt decorated with royal opals. The dress was heavy and different from the gowns in our times, but it always had a special place in my heart. I couldn’t leave it at the castle, secretly hoping that I would have a reason to wear it at least once. And Ara offered me just that chance, making me feel excited as I pulled the front strands of my hair back and tied them into a braid. The dress was warm and I was thankful as I had been feeling rather cold since coming back downstairs, the fabric sitting snugly against my body. Once I was ready, I left the room and searched for the kitchen a little confused, each room’s door was closed on this corridor and no loud chatter came from the insides. Pirates wouldn’t be so quiet at dinner, right? And then, just as I was about to give up, I remembered the corner Taeri and Yunho rounded yesterday, and I headed towards it, finding a new set of stairs leading downstairs. I grabbed the skirt of the dress and raised it above my ankles as I carefully made my way downstairs, finding less doors on this hallway. And just as I took off towards the right, the louder chatter I expected echoed down the hallway, a cacophony of sounds as I couldn’t make out one comprehensible word. The door was closed, yet it wouldn’t make much difference if it wasn’t, in my opinion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pulling my shoulders back as I exhaled. I knew everyone would be staring at me, especially when I was wearing such a dress screaming of my origins and wealth. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for Ara, that thought would stop me from running back to Wooyoung’s room. The woman seemed so sad and tired, I felt like this was the least I could do to cheer her up. She held so much respect and admiration for me as we talked, my heart would break if I were to disappoint her. So, masking all emotions from my face, I placed my hands in front of me and straightened my back as I pushed the door open, pretending that I was walking inside the throne room during one of my mother’s extravagant balls. You don’t look at anyone, you don’t make any faces. You can’t hear and you can’t see. You focus on how you walk and hold your chin high, shoulders pulled back. Your one and only mission is to reach your chair next to your mother. These were the words I was taught in etiquette class, I never thought I would have to actually remind them to myself. Especially not on a ship infested with pirates.
As I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me, startling me, but I didn’t react. The chatter continued for another split second, until the vast kitchen went completely silent, all eyes on me. My blood froze over and suddenly I started sweating as all the pirates stared at me, some openly gawking. I didn’t know where to sit. I didn’t even know if I was welcomed here. The older pirates watched me as if I were a prize, something they could play with until they got bored of. It made my skin crawl as I stepped further inside, eyes sweeping over the long table. There weren’t many vacant places, and I noticed Wooyoung’s absence from it. Where was he if he wasn’t having dinner? Seonghwa had a pleasant smile on his lips as he nodded briefly in acknowledgment, however, the cat-like eyed man next to him didn’t look too pleased as he took in my attire. He was the Captain. Hana was nestled close into Yeosang’s side as she sat in between him and Taeri, who’s lips were pulled into a huge smile as she stared at my dress. Yunho was grinning as he nudged the man sitting next to himself, who’s mouth had fallen open at the sight of me, and I could see the rice he still hadn’t chewed, making me scrunch up my nose in disgust. He quickly closed his mouth and looked away embarrassed, pressing a ring clad hand against his face in an attempt to hide himself from my eyes. I almost chuckled as Yunho started whispering something to him, making the man’s eyebrows furrow as he elbowed him. I noticed San wasn’t here, nor was Ara. Would she not sing tonight? Did I mess up by interfering with their fight and by giving her the gown? My heart beat picked up as anxiety coursed through my veins; perhaps coming here was a mistake. And then, suddenly, I heard dishes clanking loudly, and suddenly, Wooyoung’s head popped into view as he gaped at me blatantly. He threw his hands out and gesticulated towards my body, face scrunched up in shock and mild disgust.
“What are you wearing?!” He asked alarmed, eyes taking in the ancient piece of clothing, “What if food gets on it?! That’s anci—”
My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung sharply sucked in a breath, cutting himself off. He seemed dumbfounded by his own reaction as he gulped loudly, adjusting his shirt all of a sudden as he averted his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him and stepped closer, his words replaying in my mind. Did he just recognize my dress? Of course, it wasn’t hard to recognize when it screamed of royalty status, but those who weren’t in close contact with the royal families wouldn’t know the real meaning of it, or the ancestry of it. Royalty were taught about each other’s emblems and relics, family heirlooms, and anything which was representative of their family’s name. Unless Wooyoung was seriously invested with royal families stories, he had no reason knowing about the origins of my dress. He couldn’t have so easily recognized it as if it was burned into his memory. Suddenly, someone from the table cleared their throat and spoke up.
“Wooyoung, your food will get cold, come sit and eat,” It was Seonghwa, voice pleasant as he gestured towards the empty seat from across him, “You too, Princess.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa.” I bowed my head and he smiled pleasantly as he glanced around the table, throwing a glare at the pirates who haven’t stop staring, making them quickly avert their eyes. The Captain just sighed loudly and shook his head, grabbing his cup and drinking from it. He almost looked fed up. I looked at Wooyoung, whose face was expressionless as he turned around and walked to his spot, looking back at me lazily.
“Wouldn’t a princess want to sit down while eating?” He raised one eyebrow, making me squint at him, “I bet your fragile legs wouldn’t last for long if you were to stand on your two feet the whole night.”
I huffed as a few pirates snickered, but didn’t let my irritation show as I walked up to Wooyoung, pushing him over to make space for myself. He gasped as he almost fell into the pirate who Yunho had teased earlier. Wooyoung whipped his head around and glared at me flabbergasted. I grinned as I graciously sat down where Wooyoung was supposed to sit, nodding at the pirate next to me who was taken aback by my presence. The man quickly scrambled to pour some wine into my own cup and I chuckled as I quietly thanked him. Wooyoung scoffed loudly and wriggled himself in between myself and the taller pirate next to Yunho, glaring at my profile as I carefully took a sip of the wine, expecting it to taste awful, but it didn’t. It was actually very tasty and almost sweet. I haven’t had wine like this before.
“Of course,” Wooyoung grumbled as he pulled his plate towards himself and away from me, “you came here to show off, didn’t you? Do you enjoy the attention everyone is suddenly giving you? Of course you are, you are a spoiled princess after all.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Wooyoung with a fake smile on my lips, “I love how you answer your own questions, Wooyoung, it’s like you’re talking to yourself.”
The man on Wooyoung’s left suddenly snickered, hiding his face when Wooyoung’s head snapped towards him to glare at him. I chuckled and thanked Yeosang as he handed me a clean plate for dinner. I looked around the table, finding a lot more food than I was expecting. Perhaps the cook made a special dinner since Ara would sing for us tonight. I placed a bit of chicken meat on my plate and a few vegetables which looked very tasty, thanking Hana when she eagerly pushed some rice onto my plate. She looked away shyly when I complimented her lovely outfit. She wore a white dress with floral imprints on it, the orange shawl I have gifted her earlier wrapped around her shoulders tightly. She seemed to be leaning into Yeosang’s side completely, and as the man was finished with his dinner and sipping on his wine, I noticed the protective arm he had around her hips. Hana seemed happy as she ate her dinner, paying attention to the conversation Yeosang was having with the Captain. I quietly enjoyed my dinner, completely impressed by the cook’s talent as rich flavors exploded in my mouth. Everything was so tasty. It seemed even better than the previous days Wooyoung had brought me food. I took a sip of my wine to wash down the meat, and hummed contently. Wooyoung was quiet for once as he carefully ate his dinner, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was holding the silverware correctly as he carefully cut up his meat into equal pieces, and he never rushed as he ate, never putting too much food into his mouth. He chewed slowly and would pat his mouth from time to time with a handkerchief, only grabbing for his cup of wine when he was finished with his food. My eyes narrowed as my thoughts started wandering, thinking of how much etiquette Wooyoung seemed to be aware of. I even dared to think that he was acting like a prince would at the dinner table with his family. When Wooyoung’s eyes fell on me, I quickly averted my eyes and took another gulp of my wine, embarrassed that he caught me staring.
“I didn’t choke despite you wishing for me to do so.” Wooyoung mocked, yet I never wished for that to happen to him, however, I didn’t tell him that.
“Pity,” I muttered over the cup before clearing my throat, “I wonder who the cook is. I’ve been intending to tell them how tasty the food is. You pirates are lucky to have him, otherwise you’d be long dead without him. Especially you, Wooyoung. I bet you’d be the first one to starve to death—”
I couldn’t even finish my sentence before the man next to Wooyoung moaned loudly, barely gulping the food down in his stuffed mouth, “Mate—Wooyoung, you really outdid yourself tonight. I haven’t eaten anything this good like—ever!”
“Thank you, Mingi.” Wooyoung smirked smugly as his eyes fell on me, one eyebrow raised. My mouth fell open, I couldn’t help myself even if it wasn’t princess like. Wooyoung was the cook? And I just accidentally complimented him while also insulting him? I hated how quickly my face flamed up, but I acted as if I didn’t feel it, staring Wooyoung down as he looked at me challengingly.
“And you were saying, princess…” He clicked his tongue loudly and I huffed as I looked away, licking my lips in frustration. I would certainly never hear the end of this, “I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner, the cook, myself, is rather flattered at the moment.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wasn’t for Wooyoung’s sudden proximity. His strong cologne invaded my nostrils as I felt his breath hit my ear, his warmth engulfing my slightly tingling body. I haven’t drank alcohol in long, and it was hot inside the kitchen, it was slightly getting to my head. But I gulped and sat up straighter, turning to glare at Wooyoung. However, I found myself speechless as I was face to face with him, his skin flawless from so close. My eyes fell onto the mole underneath his left eye and I gulped, looking back up into his eyes. Wooyoung watched me curiously, and I felt his fingers sneaking towards my wrist, feeling the fabric of my dress. I looked down the same time he did, my heart racing in my chest. Why was I reacting in this way?
“Why would you wear this to dinner?” He asked in a whisper, looking back up into my eyes. I gulped as I stared into his eyes, suddenly mesmerized by the color of them. Wooyoung had really pretty eyes.
“I promised Ara I would come watch her perform,” I whispered, feeling like a cocoon fell over the two of us as the pirates loud chatter downed out our quiet voices, “I figured wearing something specific for my family would make her even happier. She seemed rather taken by me.”
“Her life purpose was to sing for the royal families and aristocrats,” Wooyoung’s lips pulled into a small smile, I felt his finger graze against my skin, where my bruises were already fading, “She’ll appreciate your gesture, Y/N.”
The breath caught in my throat. Wooyoung has never called me by my name before. As I fought the smile off my face, hating how badly I was blushing, Wooyoung seemed to realize his slip up and he quickly cleared his throat, withdrawing, and looking away. I gulped and reached for my cup of wine quickly, catching Taeri and Yunho’s knowing glances, my body shuddering at whatever those two were trying to imply by the simple look on their faces. Wooyoung was insufferable, there was no way I was starting to take a liking to him. Before I could dwell more on my mixed feelings for Wooyoung, the kitchen door opened, and Ara walked inside. The gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and complementing her skin. Flowers were placed in her short hair and there was a slight red blush to her cheeks, unnatural. Her lips were redder than before and she threw a beaming smile our way. Nobody would be able to tell how she truly felt, her eyes were empty of any emotion and her face was a mask of calmness. My lips instantly pulled up into a huge smile and as Ara’s eyes fell on me, they widened, and she placed her hands over her heart. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, a simple pearl necklace sat around her neck snugly.
“Good evening, lovely ladies and gentlemen—” Ara extended her hand, pointed towards me, “my Princess, Oh Y/N, from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”
She curtsied and I bowed my head, smiling at Ara’s adorableness. She would’ve been so beloved if she would’ve been able to follow her dreams. My mother would’ve certainly loved her for her adequate manners and deep respect.
“Tonight, I, Im Ara, will be your entertainer.” She bowed slightly and the pirates started clapping furiously, everyone seemingly liking the lovely girl. Ara waited patiently for the room to quiet down, I couldn’t help but join in on the clapping, “After my opening act you are all welcomed to requests songs and join me on the dance floor.”
The pirates roared again and I chuckled, looking around impressed. I would’ve never thought I would witness such things one day.
As the night progressed, the atmosphere seemed to get livelier and livelier as the drunk pirates enjoyed themselves. If anyone would’ve told me a week ago, that I would be sitting on a ship full of dangerous pirates, who gather around in the kitchen and sing their hearts out as they drink their sorrows away, I would’ve probably laughed in their face. Ara was like a bright star in the late hours of the night, guiding you through the darkness. She laughed and twirled around, her beautiful voice carrying through the vast room, allowing the pirates to pull her into their arms as they danced around. She was glowing, and when I decided to join the dancing circle, her face lit up even more and her voice rose a few octaves, her song turning even livelier as she sung about a hidden treasure, about a lost woman finding herself while on the hunt for it, and about a rather dumb man who fell head over heels for her, worshipping her as if she were the last woman in the four seas and four kingdoms. The pirates seemed to love this little tale as they joined Ara, their manly voices booming over hers, making me laugh as I was suddenly pulled into a hard chest. My eyes widened when I realized it was the Captain, but the displeased look was gone from his face and his eyes weren’t as sharp as before, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. I chuckled as he made a comment about my dress, before twirling me around until my head was spinning and I had to excuse myself, stumbling into the wall near the exit. As I caught my breath, I noticed movement from the corner of my eyes, head still spinning, and I turned to see who was standing in the doorway. It was rather surprising as San and I made eye contact, his eyes narrowed as he threw me a warning glare, probably telling me to shut up. I didn’t say anything as his eyes fell back onto Ara, who was in the arms of Mingi, giggling and helping him stand up straight as he has had too much wine. If it weren’t for San’s clenched fists, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was bothered by that simple gesture. His face remained emotionless until he sucked in a harsh breath and stormed off, body rigid. Before I could dwell more on the man’s actions, Taeri was gripping my hands and asking me to join her in a dance as the pirates took over with a sailor’s song, Ara just laughing as she continued struggling to dance with Mingi. However, I had to refuse Taeri as my legs were aching, not having danced this much before. The stuffiness of the room was also getting to me as it was making my head spin more, the hotness of the room bringing a flush to my cheeks. When I thought nobody was watching, I made sure to look around, I slipped outside the kitchen and took a deep breath as cool air instantly hit my face. I raised the skirt of the dress above my ankles and carefully padded down the corridor, headed for the stairs. I sighed as my feet felt heavy as I climbed them, yearning for some fresh air. Instead of going to Wooyoung’s room, I went up on deck, raveling in the tranquility around me. The breeze was slow and small, the cool air felt refreshing against my flushed skin. I walked towards the railing and gripped it, staring up at the clear sky. The moon was beautifully reflected in the seawater, ripples disturbing the image as a wave would crash occasionally. I have missed this. Gazing up at the stars as the world was quiet around me.
The soles of my feet felt sore and I stepped out of the high heels I have found nestled underneath my dresses in one of the briefcases. Wooyoung, surprisingly, has packed a lot of my things. Things which I wouldn’t have even considered bringing with myself if I were to come willingly. My thoughts seemed to fixate on Wooyoung as the image of his eyes and that one mole underneath it plagued my mind suddenly, making me sigh as I allowed my head to fall back. My eyes fell on the Evening Star, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Ara. It was bright, beautiful, and so far away. Ara seemed to be a sweet person, but whatever was happening to her because of San was dimming her light. It made me feel helpless that I couldn’t help her in any way, it made my blood boil. How could someone be as horrible as San? Did he not have a mother? A sister? Did he have no respect for women? My throat closed in on me as I forced my thoughts to stop spiraling more about the mistreatment Ara must go through because of that horrible man, and instead, I found myself feeling grateful that the only thing Wooyoung seemed to be doing to me was to annoy me. He fed me since the beginning and even tried to hold a civil conversation at times; there was an attempt at trying to get to know me better. Besides the fact that he was a pirate, who quite frequently dodged his duties, and cooked for his crew, I didn’t know much about him. I wondered where he was from and why he was living this life. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crew, something about the way he held himself and spoke set him apart from the other men. Seonghwa was an elegant man, but his façade would slip frequently, and you could see that he was simply just a man, raised by probably someone very savage. The Captain couldn’t even be compared to Wooyoung, his exterior and behavior were rough. The only person who came close to Wooyoung was Mingi, who’s steps were light and posture always straight, as if it had been grilled into his mind that was the adequate way to carry himself. And yet, Wooyoung dressed in expensive clothes, smelled expensive, and more often than not acted like someone who was raised in posh conditions. His skin was flawless and hands soft, despite handling a sword, no bruises decorated his palms. He spoke freely yet was careful with his words, and I have never heard him cursing. His gaze was intense when he watched you, attentive and analytic, yet never intrusive. Even tonight, I could feel his gaze on me almost at all times. I supposed he was keeping an eye on me since the older pirates were there with us and would look at me like I was a piece of meat. Perhaps Wooyoung’s warning hasn’t been harsh enough.
The wood cracked behind me and I flinched, head whipping around quickly, praying that it wasn’t any of those awful pirates. I probably wasn’t powerful enough to overpower them and with the fiesta happening downstairs, nobody would hear my pleas for help. And to my fortune, it wasn’t a scary pirate. It was just Wooyoung. Which made my heart beat fast all of a sudden, the cool air doing nothing against the flush of my cheeks. He came closer, eyes watching me carefully before a small smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t say anything, but I returned the smile, a bit reluctantly, as he came to a stop next to me. He left little distance between our bodies as he leaned against the railing, looking off in the distance. His gaze seemed unfocused as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes lightly. The soft breeze brushed against his dark hair, and I noticed he let it sit freely for once against his face, framing it. It made his features seem sharper, and I gulped as I looked away, blaming the alcohol for all the things I was noticing about him. We remained silent and the silence was comfortable around us, pleasant even. Wooyoung’s hand rested close to mine against the railing, if I were to extend my pinky finger, it would poke his. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought and I cleared my throat just as Wooyoung turned his head to look at me. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason, so I continued gazing out towards the dark sea.
“Are you feeling alright, Princess?” Wooyoung asked quietly, as if to not disturb our serene surroundings. I looked at him slightly surprised and nodded wordlessly, chewing on my lower lip.
“It felt too packed inside the kitchen, I needed some fresh air.” I explained and Wooyoung hummed, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but gaze back into his, taken by the glimmer in them. His features were soft, for the first time, he didn’t look like he’d say anything malicious.
“The dress Ara is wearing tonight…you have that to her, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked quietly and I nodded with a small smile, “And the orange shawl on Hana, is that yours too?”
“Yes, I gifted them to the girls.” I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders, “I also gave Hana my crayons. Once I’m back in my kingdom I’ll be able to purchase tons of them—unless my mother bans me from drawing or painting ever again, of course.”
My voice turned a bit sour and I averted my eyes when Wooyoung looked at me with confusion, “Did you know Hana loves to draw?”
I knew he wanted to ask about my mother, but I didn’t allow him as I quickly changed the subject. Wooyoung seemed to be thinking for a second before he quickly shook his head no. I smiled and stared at the moon’s reflection in the sea, “All of the ladies living on the ship seem to be lovely. However, Ara—you should take more care of her. Forbid San from going close to her.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, princess,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked away when my heated gaze fell on him, “We don’t meddle with each other’s businesses. Whatever San and Ara do is between the two of them—”
“What if one day you all wake up to find Ara dead?” My voice hardened and Wooyoung’s jaw clenched.
“Then she’ll have a funeral and people who’d mourn her.” I scoffed at Wooyoung’s harsh words, taken aback. His eyebrows were furrowed as he turned to look at me, face pulled into an irritated grimace, “We’re on the sea, princess. You’re surrounded by pirates. You’re on Ateez’ ship, we’re known to be merciless and dangerous. The laws from your kingdom don’t apply the same way here on the sea, on this ship.”
“You should treat people more decently, at least.” I snapped and Wooyoung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Tell me, princess, were you not treated decently while traveling with us?” I bit my tongue, unable to deny his question. I was treated well, a lot better than I expected, but what about all the other people who weren’t? Who died by their swords? Who were tortured and taken away from their familiar lives? What about them?
“This isn’t about me.” I whispered, gulping when Wooyoung shook his head, seemingly annoyed.
“Then who is it about?” He pressed; voice laced with annoyance.
“Everyone else who suffered a fate worse than mine.”
“Quit acting like a kind soul who’s worried for everyone around them.” Wooyoung’s voice hardened and my eyes widened at his next words, “You abandoned your people. You ran away from home, because anything is allowed for a princess. Because you got bored one day of the comfortable life you were living and ran away, proving my point that you’re a spoiled brat. You think anyone can just do that? Leave everything behind and build a new life without consequences? Live comfortably despite having nothing?”
My blood boiled at the hear of his words and my jaw clenched as I took a step closer to him, shoulders squared back as I glared at Wooyoung, “You sure know how to judge and hold a speech about someone who you don’t even know, pirate. I couldn’t care less about what you think of me, but when you make such outrageous claims about me I won’t remain quiet. Not when—someone who’s hiding his true identity preaches to me about what’s right and wrong. I know you’re not a pirate Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me, just a few inches between the two of us. My heart stuttered in my chest, but I paid it no mind as my cheeks flared from anger, glare hardening the longer Wooyoung remained silent. It only further proved my theory. He wasn’t a pirate. I had caught onto his poor façade.
“You’re right,” He cleared his throat, lips pulling into a tight smile, “I am not a pirate.”
“Then who are you?” I quickly questioned, anticipating his answer. My skin suddenly tingled for I was right. I saw through his little act and now he was about to confess his true identity to me. I shouldn’t have felt so victorious over such a small thing, but I couldn’t help myself as my glare disappeared and my eyebrows raised in urgency the more Wooyoung stalled with his answer.
“Jung Wooyoung,” He breathed out, looking uncomfortable as the next words left his mouth, “Crown prince of the South Kingdom. I ran away when I was thirteen on a whim, and joined Hongjoong’s crew. I never wanted to rule, my parents forced me into taking a decision. Be the crown prince or be forever locked away in a castle far from any humans. I craved a life full of adventure and freedom, far from my controlling and ruthless parents.”
My eyebrows were furrowed as I listened to Wooyoung’s story, heartbeat picking up again as I looked at him confused. He was Jung Wooyoung? The next in line of the South Kingdom? He was…he was the thirteen years old Wooyoung I have met all those years ago? A pang, which felt like a dagger to my heart, traveled through my body as I gasped and took a step back, staring Wooyoung down. My eyes ran over him, and suddenly all the repressed memories of the little boy came rushing back. The pretty eyes, the mole underneath his left eye. His loud laughter, which was ear piercing and irritating. His put together attire despite him constantly running and hiding in impossible places. His mischievous nature and his snarky comments. The whispered promise before we parted ways of us conquering the world together, of fighting our hardships together, of a love which would be eternal. And then…not even a week later, the news of the little prince going missing. The many letters his parents sent apologizing and promising to find him, promising to wed us as soon as he’d be found. Jung Wooyoung, the missing little prince, presumed to be dead, yet never quite forgotten.
My lips quivered at the discovery and I shook my head as Wooyoung watched me with a confused expression, reaching out, but I slapped his hand away, “No. You—you’re here preaching to me about what’s right and wrong—about running away when you did the same thing! When you abandoned your duties, when you—when you left a little girl worrying and waiting for your return for her whole life! You made her life miserable with your departure, and you never even considered the repercussions of your actions! You don’t get to talk to me like that, Wooyoung, leave me alone. I don’t need you bringing me meals anymore, I know where the kitchen is. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
I stormed off with an aching heart, tears streaming down my face. My betrothed had been right by my side all this time, almost making me second guess everything I had done in the past three years.
Wooyoung respected my request, for the past two days he hasn’t come near me. I haven’t seen him during breakfast, lunch, nor dinner. I didn’t know where he went when I was in the kitchen, and I wasn’t curious. I was beyond hurt and mad at him. I couldn’t believe the prince I was supposed to marry was the one who’d return me to my mother, make me a prisoner of a life I didn’t want anymore, meanwhile he would return to the life of a pirate where he had no care in the world, no commitments, and no troubles. The thought didn’t sit right with me, it made my blood boil. I couldn’t let that happen; I couldn’t allow Wooyoung slip through my fingers unpunished. But if I wasn’t smart about it, then the both of us would be doomed for a lifetime. Therefore, the plan I had been twisting and turning in my mind, found its perfect side character. Jung Wooyoung, the man who would pretend to be in love with me, get married to me, and then…run away with me. If I were to follow my heart, I would leave him behind, but he could easily find out about my whereabouts and then all my efforts would be in vain. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have much time, the sun was close to setting, anchor already settled as we have reached the coasts of the Sun Rise Kingdom. I was nervous as I paced up and down the hallway in front of Wooyoung’s room. I left the door open when I left, that’s how I knew he was inside. There was no better time than right now to rope Wooyoung up into my plan. There was no time left. I had to act now. So, I pushed the door open and closed it behind me quickly, turning to march up to Wooyoung all confident, back straight and chin held high. But the sight in front of me halted me in my steps, making Wooyoung cry out as his wide eyes fell on me. The pants he wore hung low on his waist, undone, and a black tank top was clutched in his right hand. My strong façade broke as my eyes traveled down his bare torso, skin tan and smooth, muscles hard and worked. His stomach wasn’t lacking either as a six-pack stared back at me. Staring so blatantly was very much so not princess like, but it wasn’t often a man stood half naked in front of me. Let alone a handsome man like Wooyoung.
“Hey!” Wooyoung yelped, suddenly snapping out of his initial shock as he clumsily covered himself with his hands, “Stop staring at me! Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t deserve privacy! This—this is outrageous and unacceptable! Get out, princess—”
“Stop fussing, and shut up.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “You wouldn’t be exposed anymore if you used your brain and put on that tank top you’re holding.”
Wooyoung opened his mouth to fire something back, but realized I was right, and he quickly whirled around as he dressed himself, doing the lace of his pants as I rolled my eyes at his childishness, “What do you want? I thought you said you didn’t want to see me ever again.”
“I changed my mind,” I snapped, watching as Wooyoung faced me again, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment, “You’re not allowed to say no to what I’m about to tell you. And you need to keep your mouth shut about it too, can you do that for me, Prince Jung Wooyoung?”
“Don’t call me that, I haven’t been a prince for—” Wooyoung’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he looked appalled, “You can’t command me around, Princess Oh Y/N, I won’t listen to you or do whatever you want me to do.”
“We’ll see about that later,” I muttered with a smirk as I walked closer to Wooyoung, raising an eyebrow at him, “What’s my name?”
Wooyoung looked at me like I grew two heads all of a sudden, “Are you dumb or something—”
“Say my name.” I snapped, glaring at him when he didn’t want to do what I told him to. Wooyoung scoffed and placed his hands on his hips, looking irritated.
“Princess Oh Y/N.” He finally said, making it sound like it was forced out of him, it might as well been.
“And you’re Prince Jung Wooyoung.” I said firmly, making Wooyoung look at me confused. Uncomfortable silence fell around us as I kept staring at him, hoping that he’d realize by himself, but apparently Wooyoung was too daft for that, “Didn’t you have a betrothed, prince? From the Sun Rise Kingdom?”
“Yeah, I did,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “But it was ages ago, I don’t even remember what she looked like, except for her name which stuck with me, because she loved gazing at the stars at night and her name meant sky. Princess Oh—”
A wide grin spread onto my lips as Wooyoung’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He shakily raised a finger and pointed it at me, making me chuckle amused, “That’s right, Wooyoung. It’s me, I’m that girl. I’m your betrothed. I don’t understand how you didn’t figure it out straight away, you’re quite daft, have you been told that before?”
“I am not, I—” Wooyoung seemed speechless as he exclaimed, huffing loudly, “I just…didn’t make the connection because I made sure to forget everything about my life before I became a pirate.”
I licked my lips, heart clenching weirdly at the knowledge of Wooyoung purposefully wanting to forget about me, “Well now you know. And you’re going to help me out. I don’t want to rule either, not when I know my mother’s men will make my life a living hell. All I want to do is paint and live by the sea, gaze up at the stars at night, and perhaps teach etiquette to little children. And for that to happen, I need your help, Wooyoung.”
The prince’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked very repulsed by the idea of mingling into the life of a royal, but as he was about to refuse me, he looked me in the eyes and paused. I was grinning at him, skin tingling just at the mere thought of my plan working out, of having Wooyoung by my side in the process. Something in his demeanor changed as a light glimmer appeared in his eyes, the mischievous boy I remembered suddenly stood right in front of me.
“What’s the plan, Princess?”
For a second all I could hear was the loud pounding of my heart as my mother’s scrutinizing gaze rooted me to my spot. Nothing really changed around here. The Throne Room was still decorated the same, still as cold as it had always been. If it weren’t for the presence next to me, for the warm hand gripping my hand back tightly, I probably would’ve fainted on the spot from my nerves. I was sweating, I was feeling hot and cold at the same time, and my head was thumping wilder than my heart. This was the day everything would change. I heard Wooyoung suck in a quiet breath next to me as my mother and her most precious advisor took off, headed towards us. Wooyoung and I stood in the middle of the Throne Room, their trek strenuous and nerve-wrecking as they took careful and slow steps towards us, almost as if they couldn’t believe the Princess was back. I couldn’t imagine how Wooyoung felt after so many years of evading his Kingdom and origins to be standing in a Throne Room, about to utter some crazy words. I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second as my mother stopped a few steps away, her advisor standing behind her, glaring harshly at me and at my joined hand with Wooyoung. His palm was sweaty, but our intertwined hands would never allow the other’s hand to slip away.
“Child,” My mother’s voice was hard as it boomed around us, and I gulped drily, “you have returned, I see.”
Wooyoung and I acted at the same time, my body folding in two as I bowed in front of my mother, in front of the Queen. Wooyoung got down on one knee, bowing his head deeply, showing her the utmost respect. After a few seconds of not moving, I dared raise my head and peek at my mother. She watched us shocked and as she cleared her throat she spoke, “Stand up, you fools.”
Ah, yes, her affection never ceased to impress me. I tried to keep off the sour grimace from my face as I stood up straight, shoulders pulled back, and Wooyoung got back to his feet, averting eye contact as he stared at the red carpet we stood on.
“Princess Y/N, how pleasant your presence is,” The advisor spoke up, making my jaw clench, “Almost as if you haven’t been gone for three years. Did you enjoy yourself?”
The insult was on the tip of my tongue, but Wooyoung’s slight tug on my hand stopped me from saying anything to the blatant mocking of the insufferable man. My mother hissed in his direction and raised her hand, that was a first. She adored listening to that monkey of hers.
“I want to hear what this is, right now.” She gestured to Wooyoung and I, glare falling on our joined hands. I allowed a small smile to slip onto my lips, everything carefully planned out last night. The spotlight was on Wooyoung now, he better be a good actor.
“Your Majesty, Queen Oh,” He bowed his head again, bringing his free hand up to his heart, “My name is Jung Wooyoung, the South Kingdom’s crown prince.”
He paused for dramatic effect and I almost rolled my eyes, his words made the advisor gasp as my mother’s eyebrows furrowed, “I know my return is sudden and unexpected, but after the pirates kidnapped me I was lost. I was merely a child, I couldn’t tell wrong from right, I thought their lifestyle was something to envy. That is until I realized my mistake and ran away from them, going into hiding out of fear that they would find me and kill me for good this time as I had stolen gold from them to fend for myself. I lived in a humble town for years, alone and scared most of the time, until…until your daughter, Your Majesty, showed up and reminded me the joys of life and—love. Until she showed me what it felt like to feel loved, to be in love. I am in love with Princess Y/N, Your Majesty.”
My heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s words and I could only hope it had a similar effect on my mother and her advisor, “I—I regret running away, mama, but if I didn’t do it—I would’ve never found the Prince, mama. I love him and I want to marry him. We’ve been sheltering our love for the past three years, scared of returning because we didn’t know what was awaiting for us. We were scared to face your wrath and his parents wrath, scared that you would separate us despite us being betrothed at an early age. I realized how much my people mean to me; and Prince Wooyoung and I want to rule together, we want to join the Kingdoms and become the next King and Queen under your blessings, mama.”
I watched my mother’s strong façade waver for a second as her eyes filled with tears, a reaction I would’ve never expected from her. She didn’t even cry at her own husband’s funeral. She glanced behind her, at her advisor, and I quickly nudged Wooyoung as they weren’t paying attention to us.
“Your Majesty, we—” He looked down sheepishly, cheeks flushed, making me wonder how he made himself blush so easily, “We would like to get married this week, if possible and allowed. I do not wish to separate from the Princess, therefore may I ask for a letter to be sent to my parents?”
“Oh, what a shocking change of events!” My mother exclaimed, pressing a hand over her mouth, the advisor not looking happy at all, “I thought I lost you, my child, forever, and here you are! Doing the right thing! I am so proud of you!”
Of course, she was only proud of me because I was doing what she wanted, not what made me happy. I almost scoffed, but Wooyoung’s quiet sigh grounded me, making me focus on the task at hand.
“I give my blessings for the weeding to happen this week, but your parents also have a say in it, Prince Wooyoung, they haven’t seen you in too long, they might not be as lenient as myself.” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed as she placed her hands in front of her. Of course, she was only lenient because I came back with my betrothed wanting to get married and take over the throne. Pathetic.
“I am sure Your Majesty will be able to work things out with them, they have always had a spot for you, my Queen.” Wooyoung, always the sweet talker and charmer, smiled at my mother with a dashing smile on his face, my eyes staying on his face for a second too long. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and I quickly averted my gaze, suddenly turning red as a tomato. Why was I blushing so hard?
“Very well, Hugo, go prepare a parchment and my pen, this is an urgent matter!” My mother clapped her hands together, and I couldn’t help but allow a victorious smile stretch onto my lips as Wooyoung squeezed my hand once, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling too hard.
“Yes, my Queen.” The advisor muttered with distaste and after a nasty look sent our way, he stormed off. My mother was smiling expectantly at us and I gulped, realizing that we weren’t exactly displaying any joy at the outcome of the events. So, I quickly took action as I turned towards Wooyoung, letting go of his hand and cupping his cheeks as he faced me instinctively.
“Oh, Wooyoung!” I let out a dreamy sigh, faking that I was on the verge of crying, “The world will finally know about love. I’ll be finally your wife—”
“And my Queen.” Wooyoung cut me off, mesmerizing eyes boring into mine. My breath caught in my throat as I gulped nervously.
“And you shall be my King.” For a second, nothing happened, but then Wooyoung’s eyes fell onto my lips and my heart started beating fast again, breath faltering as he leaned in closer. I knew we had to do this because my mother was watching, waiting for us to slip up despite her acts of kindness. So, I closed my eyes when Wooyoung’s lips brushed against mine barely, my whole body flaming as I pushed my head forward, connecting our lips firmly. My mind blanked for a moment and I didn’t dare move, as I felt Wooyoung’s hands on my waist, pulling me closer. My hands on his cheeks tightened and I almost gasped as he suddenly moved his lips, capturing my lower lip in between his as I returned his kiss. His lips were soft and warm, they fit perfectly against mine as we found a rhythm comfortable for the both of us, the feeling of kissing foreign. My skin tingled as the kisses were slow, until I forgot about the presence of my mother and I found myself pressing into Wooyoung’s body, breathing in his strong cologne as his lips picked up their pace, more urgent than before, and my head was suddenly spinning. My fingers dug into his cheeks painfully as Wooyoung’s grip tightened on me as well, lungs screaming for air, yet I couldn’t pull away just yet. Something felt addictive about his lips, about his kisses, about his warmth and his cologne. Wooyoung was the first to break the kiss, much to my dismay, and as I gasped in a deep breath of air, a short but deep kiss was pressed against my lips once again, our eyes slowly opening at the same time. I was breathing hard as we stared into each other’s eyes, Wooyoung’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his hot breath hitting my face in quick puffs. I chuckled, biting my lower lip at the absurdity of the situation. Wooyoung’s eyes quickly looked to the side, but my mother was gone. It was just the two of us. I don’t know when she walked away and I didn’t care. As Wooyoung looked back at me again, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his eye and I had the sudden urge to press a kiss against it, but I willed myself not to. I shouldn’t give in to some absurd urges so early on. His lips seemed slightly plumper and redder than before; I supposed mine looked similar.
“I have to admit you might be a genius, Princess.” Wooyoung whispered and I couldn’t help but grin at him.
“And you might just be the partner in crime I needed, my Prince.” Wooyoung’s lip twitched up into a handsome smirk and I stepped back embarrassed, our hands finding each other again as our fingers intertwined.
My fate might’ve turned out to be even better than I could’ve ever dreamed of. With a Prince like Wooyoung by my side, I knew success would follow. And perhaps a lifetime of adventure, danger, and mischief. And maybe…an abiding love as well.
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