I Am Screaming And Crying!! Omfg. I Need Me One Of These Changbin's Lmao.

i am screaming and crying!! omfg. 😭😭 i need me one of these changbin's lmao.

Pairing: Changbin x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI due to adult content. Pet play, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, d/s themes, use of pet names(Changbin is referred to as puppy).

Word count: 1,400 and some change

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be fleshed out and used as a sequel to another fic but that’s still sitting in my drafts. 😅

The whine coming from Changbin sounds pathetic. He uses said whine as a ploy to get your attention. A way to distract you from the work you are consumed by. It’s eight o’clock on a weekday. Work should have finished hours ago. Yet after dinner, you returned to your office to tackle some extra emails.

Changbin struggles to remain patient. He wants to play. The thump against the door when he laid outside it is unmistakable. However, the longer you force him to wait, the harder it was for him to stay calm. 

A half an hour later, he scratched at the door till you let him in. With a annoyed huff, you gave the order to lie down and wait till you’re finished.

“Be good.” You say. “Just a little longer.”

Good boys got treats. Good boys get spoiled. Changbin smiles at the thought. He loves being good and eagerly nods when asked if he could stay out of trouble. 

Most days Changbin is a well behaved. It’s just tonight that is a challenge. He’s paced the length of the room on his hands and knees enough times that you worried he might get rug burn on his sensitive skin. 

Eventually, to his relief, you call him over. Out of your peripheral vision he’s sits by your desk stark naked, minus the collar he has on. The collar he’s required to wear when home. The very one that sends him straight to his subspace once snapped into place. 

Changbin stays near your desk, trying to sneak his way closer to you with subtlety. He’s perked up, eager as he plops down next to your chair, leaving no space between you two. All his attention is on you. He stares at you with big brown eyes, filled with adoration and hope that you are done with work.

Much to his dismay, you continue to type away. Changbin sinks into himself with a whimper when all you do is place your hand on the crown of his head for scratches. The action is some consolation. He loves head scratches.

Changbin changes his plan of action. It takes some finagling and force but he’s able to squeeze his bulky frame under your desk. Now he can sit at your feet. From what he observes, you don’t seem to mind minus the annoyed sigh that left you. The scolding never comes. All he hears in the silent room is the clicking of your keyboard keys.

Out of curiosity, he licks one of your legs. Timid laps against the smooth skin, starting at your ankle, traveling higher. By the time he makes it to your knees, you spread your legs wider. It’s not direct permission to touch you, however, at the same time you haven’t told him to stop. 

With new found courage Changbin scoots closer to you. He takes a risk and presses his face against your clothed pussy. With a sharp inhale, he can smell your arousal. The more his nose prods at your pussy, the wider the wet patch on your panties becomes. Still, you choose to work. He doesn’t understand why you don’t want to play. It’s not work time! You could let him help you. He can make you happy. Make you feel good like he’s supposed to. 

He’s confident you just need motivation to play. Changbin pools the saliva in his mouth before pressing his tongue wide and flat against you. One long drag over your underwear earns him no response from you. So he repeats his actions. 

To his surprise, your thighs close around his head. Changbin doesn’t like the pressure on the sides of his head. He can’t do anything when stuck like this. All it does is frustrate him. He howls, loud to express his frustration.

Why? Why are you doing this? Are you mad or playing with him? He lets out a breathy huff when he’s able to pull away, the back of his head bumping the desk. 

“Puppy, behave.” Your voice comes out as a warning. “I’m almost done. I need to finish this.” 

When Changbin glances up, he notices the eye roll at the pleading look on his face. The puppy eyes have never been effective against you, Changbin tries anyway. It’s bound to work at some point. 

To distract him from his begging, your foot prods at his cock. He’s half erect. Little desperate mewls leave him as he shifts his hips, trying to get some friction to help. 

Changbin’s face is flushed red from a mix of embarrassment and arousal. While pressing a warm cheek on your thigh, he tries to grind against your leg. It’s not enough to get off, only making him uncomfortable. 

Thankfully, a few minutes later, you wrap up your work. Computer shutting down for the night. When you push your chair back to stand, Changbin rushes out from under the desk. He’s already at the door by the time you cross the distance. When you step out into the hallway, he stays glued to you the short distance towards the bedroom. 

“Go sit puppy.” You say when opening the door. 

Changbin brushes past you, heading straight for the middle of the room. A whine slips out of him while he watches you take your time unwinding. Jewelry is being removed, phone plugged in on the nightstand. Pointless tasks just to draw out his suffering. 

“I know you want me, but I don’t know if you’ve earned it today. I asked you to be good.”

Another cry leaves Changbin. He shifts on his hands and knees, trying to remain still. His cock is fully erect now, tip red and glistening with pre-cum. His hips rut into the air, trying to help his aching cock. All it does is bring a smile to your face. What a dumb puppy. The only thought in his head is to breed. He would cry if you denied him. 

Instead, you strip your shirt off, taking time with your buttons. Once tossed on the floor, you hands trail to the zipper on the tight pencil skirt you have on. A little help from you and the material slips past your hips to join your shirt. The rest of your clothes follow the same fate at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“Puppy, stay.” 

Changbin sits like a statue. He’s so close to getting what he wants. His eyes don’t leave you, following you as you cross the room to the bed. You rest on your hands and knees, wet pussy glistening in the low light, teasing him. It’s his favorite position. You are right there.

Changbin waits, and waits, like the good boy he is. 

After what feels like an eternity, you shake your hips, hoping to entice him. “Come taste, puppy.”

Changbin bounds over to the bed, scampering up to settle behind you. There is no hesitation. Tongue of his immediately lapping at your folds. His licks are erratic, no real pattern driven by the need. You love when Changbin gets like this. There are no thoughts or worries. Just his entire being consumed by desire. 

He moans when you press back against his face. His tongue is as deep as it can go inside your pussy, trying to touch every inch of your walls. To help, you bring your fingers to your clit to bring the growing orgasm to a peak. As pleasure crashes over you, it creates another wave of wetness for him to lap up. 

You are breathless when you pull away from his eager tongue. “Okay, puppy. Come, take your reward.”

Changbin mounts over you. His chest pressed against your back while his hands rested by your head. His cock prods at your holes, blindly attempting to find your pussy. Rather not wanting to risk the pain of the wrong hole, your hands help guide his cock enough he’s able to slip inside. The groan that leaves him is low, guttural as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He gives himself a moment to enjoy the warmth of your walls before snapping his hips back and forth. This is what you both crave. When you push hard enough, you get a side of him that is far in his headspace. Something deep, animalistic almost when he ruts into you with urgency. 

You can’t move when his whole body weight is against you, pinning you down. Now forced to take shallow breaths that are punched out of you from the power of his hips. Even if Changbin comes now, he’ll continue till he’s too sore to move. Tonight is no different. It’s easy to get caught up in the pleasure. Just to allow him to fuck you dumb. The best thing you can do is keep teasing your clit and come with him. Better to get your praises out now while you still can. 

“Good puppy. Such an obedient puppy.”

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

©︎Abiaswreck | Do not copy, repost, or translate | As always, reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

a requested drummer boyfriend!san one-shot

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄) | choi san x fem!reader

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : With your eyes on his playing, San feels like a superstar. 

You, on the other side, feel super horny. Mamma Mia…

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.8k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, a bit cocky but very sweet drummer!san, shy but not inexperienced girlfriend!femreader, sensory overload & deprivation, slight dry-humping (f), light-hearted teasing, pet-names (sun, sunshine, sunny, baby), explicit consent, verbal & physical reassurance, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, passionate sex, unprotected sex (not sorry), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses squeaking used as a narrative and poetic device, barely plot just good fuck and tuck (aftercare)

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wrote this in 4 long sessions while i had a very horny long distance relationship with drummer!san due to all the business i experienced while working on this lol. i missed him any time i couldn't write for him, which, over the course of almost 2 months (i'm sorry)... is long.... i promise it is sweet and love-making but uh. horny. i was drunk for a big chunk (like a half) of writing this (took care of obvious errors but tell me if you find anything please omg.) anyway lmao hope you have fun reading it <33 always appreciate reblogs, likes and comments/feedback xoxo

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @ateezstanforever : @sanwhalvr : @itsvxlentine : @jeonride : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy (thank you!!!)

[ what he’s playing : MAMMAMIA / FEEL / FOR YOUR LOVE ▸ Måneskin | playlist ]

OH, OH, OH, AUGH!

There he goes again, your boyfriend, his black earphone plugged deep into one ear, drum sticks held firmly in his hands, hammering down on the drums he's been abusing for the past, uh — gosh, how long has it been? An hour? A lifetime? 

You love your Sannie, you really do, but when you signed up to be the girlfriend of infamous drummer “Sun Set”, you were expecting heated, secret glances from the stage to the audience, feverish making out-sessions post-concert, and while you do get those things in an overdose, listening to drum covers (without the vocals, mind you) on repeat until your ears actually fall off–? No, that one was not on the initial contract.

And, come on, it's finally the weekend after one long, exhausting week, which San and you usually spend trying to de-stress, relax and relieve yourself. So yes, if it was as usual, you would be spending your sweet time with your boyfriend right now— if it wasn't for his upcoming competition with his band.

Alright. It’s not to say that you are being forced to stay here in between these soundproof walls, covered by graffiti San's bandmates left to immortalize their jam-sessions, and don’t forget the pungent smell of tobacco that will without a doubt stick to the hoodie you fetched after he took it off— you do want to be a supportive girlfriend that’s worth winning those 1K for.

So, you’ll still give him a thumbs up and applause every time he finishes with a song, tilts up his head triumphantly, fingers running through his incredibly disheveled red hair that has formed singular spikes of sweaty strands, while the drum sticks still rests in his hand with his breath all messed up. He gives it his all, but what you understand is that San gives even more when you are there to watch him: At least that’s what you’re seeing right now, when he doesn't give himself more than five seconds to transition to the next track.

Lower lip bitten deep by his teeth, face pulled together to a concentrated frown, head rocking up and down, side to side, with his red locks waving around in the wind of his energy and feet aggressively stomping down the bass drum, your boyfriend feels his music, always, with his whole body, his mind drowns and explodes with the help of his loud instrument, and as you sit there, on the couch, a pillow clenched in between your legs– you try to balance out the overbearing noise by digging your nails into the cushion, and you deal with the “awe” you feel for your boyfriend being so immersed by his artistry, god, so astonishingly burning and afire— by pressing your thighs together so the beats of his drum can finally stop pulsating between them.

San doesn’t smile when he plays, you noticed it a while ago, makes an almost disgusted-looking face by scrunching his face together, especially when he really hammers down the cymbals and throws his head to the back, drilling holes into the ceiling with his eyes as if he’s challenging the gods to come stop him, his thick neck glistening in his sweat, his pulse pumping through the vein that is bulging out. 

Oh, mamma…

You hope those gods do have mercy with you, because San looking like this does things to you that go beyond just feeling fear that he’s going to throw his shit to the floor. It makes you go into a craze that he’s also wearing a very drenched black tank top and pair of ripped jeans, his black bandana he had on his head is now tied around his thigh, and his arms are flexing with each time he’s thwacking down on his tom-toms and smashing the cymbals— fuck, where does your boyfriend get the time to go to the gym? Is it getting hot in here? You can’t possibly be enduring overheating on top of a headache, you’ll actually pass out or have to rip off your clothes in its entirety. But, shit, look at him— your boyfriend looks absolutely carnal right now and you can’t even slightly touch him, you’re going to melt. Like actually melt into mush.

… mia.

San is going through his usual cathartic euphoria, the snaring sounds of his drums and cymbals penetrate your ear cut and clean, but while you usually can bop your head to it, listening to him does slightly differ, when your brain clenches after each sound that follows the other. 

It’s 1 AM. The weekend has just started. It’s been two hours of his practice now, with a small ‘make-out break’ that is already more than thirty minutes ago. San promised you, ‘just one last song and I’ll be there for you, yeah?’, but there goes he, your boyfriend, Choi San, Sun Set, drumming along to his tenth or something song, overflowing in intense passion.

You could have been lying in bed with him now, San in your arms or you in his, smothered by his love or something, anything; Please, just… No more beating the skin. No more rudiments, diddles– you don’t want to hear none of it, and you know you’re being an immodest glutton for your boyfriend thinking of him like this, but there’s nothing else on your mind except him and how bad you want him to stop playing. Of course you can’t say that out loud, at least not that he could hear it over the sounds of his drums, especially over how loud the music in his earbuds is set, the vocals screech through the plastic so even you can hear the shouts.

San values his musical time with his drum, needs it to feel secure for the competition, it would be cruel to interrupt him just because you have a headache and an even more so aching cunt, right?

No, you dummy.

San is your boyfriend. Or no, you, dear, are his beloved girlfriend. He’s not going to let you sit here and suffer, even if you mean well for him and watch Sun Set be hot. Being his scarily attentive self, he catches the strain in your face and immediately stops stepping into the bass drum with his sneakers. A very acute quietude interrupts his playing and washes all of your boiled up headache away.

Silence.

It can sound so sweet, can’t it? Can feel so sweet, too…

“Hey, are you okay, sunshine?”, San asks, and after your ears get used to the lack of sound, you see his sweat drop from his forehead, hear his voice soft and molten, which starkly contrasts the overwhelming volume of the instrument he’s been playing.

“No, it’s nothing,” you murmur, failing at hiding your discomfort, as the pillow still rests in your hands, nail marks as visible as visible can be on the velvety surface. You’ve obviously been scratching that, don't even try to hide it.

“Oh, sunshine,” San sighs with a sorrowful smile that understands immediately, and after he swings his legs from the stool, he makes his way to you with open arms to slide them under your armpits.

You liquefy in his hug, the pillow tumbling out your groin, body going lax immediately as you wrap yourself around his neck, sinking into him. The couch squeaks a bit upon the impact of San falling into it, but the shrill noise is nothing compared to the beat of his drums. His embrace engulfs you, makes you feel sunken in remedy, reverie and warmth– and the slippery surface of his back only adds to the experience of having your lover in your arms. All that was a buzzing chaos— San makes it golden, melting your tense body, lifting it up to gently sit down on the couch side-ways with you on top, your ear listening to how his heart knocks against his ribcage, slowly, loudly, steadily.

“It’s past midnight already!”, he gasps silently, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you tell me, sunny?”

“You had that look on again,” you whine, face planted into his breast, god, his pillowy, sweaty chest— and look up to him, as he strokes over your back.

“I have something like that?”, San hums, voice is kept low so he doesn’t irritate you in any way, though there’s a slight suggestive swing in the repetition of your words, “A look?”

His eyebrow twitches up and his lips are curved into a smirk, wanting you to tell him in detail what’s gotten you to fidget around with the pillow and whine in impatience, clearly bleeding in confidence that comes from having not missed even the slightest beat of the songs.

You didn’t think drummers were that sexy, since the usual limelight was kept on the flirtatious vocalists, powerful guitarists or the red-blooded bassists, but after San had invited you to one of his jam-sessions on the third date, your life had been tilted upside-down, rocked, and your fate settled. (It was really rough to not fall around his neck after his drum-solo, peculiarly when Seonghwa and Wooyoung kept making jokes about your red cheeks, but you still remember the way San asked you whether you were alright with his heavy breath, and, oh god, does it still turn you on to this day.)

If it’s not the look he has on his face every time he pounds into his instrument, the one which you can feel flutter in between your legs, it’s most certainly the look in his eyes he has on right now, the sultry, slightly taunting gaze that’s trying to make you sweat, and as if the room isn’t heated up enough, his dark irises spark in between his eyelashes, kindling a fire in you that definitely needs extinguishing— so best believe he should know it.

“Your fans tell you every day, Sannie,” you groan, embarrassment croaking your voice while you snuggle yourself deeper into his comfortable body, his thigh parked between your legs. You can feel the knot of his bandana stroke your core and you shudder a little bit, a cracked breath escaping out your nose. Your boyfriend raises his eyebrows– doesn’t seem to acknowledge how you inhale deeply– and San exhales out a chuckle, answering, with glittery puppy eyes that make you unable to say no any further, “I’d like to hear it from you though, sunshine…”

You slump deeper into his flesh and as his bandana grazes the thin layer of your boot- shorts again, you savor how slow he’s breathing and how warm he feels under you, sighing, “Sannie, when you play the drums… It’s like… W- wow, what do I say, you know…”

“Aww, don’t be shy now,” San croons and doesn’t acknowledge how he’s encouraging you to keep grinding needily on his thigh, hands skidding to your ass to cup them delicately, drifting and pushing you over slowly. “I don’t know, Sannie… You–,” you whirr and you have to inhale sharply after your sensitive bud tingles, “You… make my head hurt, Sann- n- nie.”

Alright, let’s be honest here. You’re lying through your teeth, and San chuckling is confirmation that he doesn’t believe the lie one single bit.

Yes, your head hurts, but that was his music, not San as the only man who could take care of all the feelings that have been jamming up like crazy. Feelings being a gut-wrenching mix of longing, craving, lusting for San as hard as you do. Even now, you can count the drops of sweat on his face dripping down his freckled neck you’ve already previously admired, but seeing it up close makes you quite greedier, especially when you can still make out his flavor on your tastebuds from having had your tongue down his throat a (too long) while ago. Not to forget his fingers groping into your plump butt right now, and it’s confusing how your boyfriend’s visage can stay as innocuous as it looks while he’s obviously supporting you on chasing your thrill.

After the silence that follows San’s chuckle, your boyfriend speaks up again, and despite the air being undeniably thick, his voice vibrates comfortably in his ribcage, lulling in the side of your head; “I’m so sorry for making your pretty head hurt, Y/N.” 

You click with your tongue, pouting, gathering a bit of your energy that’s slowly coming back, and grab San by his shoulders. You turn your head so your chin is poking into his sternum, looking right to where he’s eyeing you down. You stop grinding and he looks with a smile.

“How can I make it up to you, hm?”, your boyfriend snickers softly, hands disappearing under his hoodie to trail you down your back and waist with his fingers. You feel fuzzy and velvety under his touch, and him gently breathing out “sunny” melts in your ears like a restorative, refreshing breeze after the endless knocks of his drums intimidating you and tying your throat shut.

“My ears were seriously killing me, I think,” you admit, but the cute pout remains formed on your lips and San mirrors it instinctively.

“Ohh, Y/N, I’m– I’m really sorry to hear that. I really didn’t want to make you hurt, sunny, I promise,” San sniffles and mirrors your pout; you get the hunch he does feel very, very sorry this time, yet his hands are very guilty of slithering up your back and— clip! Open up your bra.

Ignoring that you flutter, feel light and feel the relief already, you uncontrollably giggle in surprise and push yourself up, getting to see more of your boyfriend’s handsome face. He has stopped pouting now, using his tongue to wet his red-tinted lips with a friendly, yet very ferocious smile. “You know the songs I was playing right now, sunshine?”

“No, I don’t,” you answer with continuing honesty.

Your boyfriend chuckles, “hm, maybe it’s better that way,” voice dripping like honey, but the sweet innocence is feigned, making you curious of what he’s hiding from you, deflecting from the very evident scene he’s painting.

His caramel skin proves it; for the particularized taste, heat must be added for sugar to win aroma, and your boyfriend is testing the theory to its limits.

Gliding his hands to your hips, San gets your cheeks burning, and when he hooks his fingers into his hoodie and drives it off your body, you lick over your lips asking yourself if you need any clarity to know where this is going; With your arms raised, your boiling skin meets fresh air through your drenched shirt and you shudder for a short moment, before your boyfriend gets his hands on the bra, fetches it, and slithers it out your arms.

After it drops to the ground and San sees your nipples poke through your shirt, he shifts his weight to the front to make you trip on your back, and takes off his tank top with both of his hands. His lats spread frighteningly wide and you let out a gasp. You’ll never not be surprised about how beefy your boyfriend is; San’s sweaty body expands in front of your eyes, and his collarbones are perfectly in your sight, as he hovers over you with his hand propped next to your head. There’s a wave of heat hitting your face and you aren’t sure whether you’re blushing or if his body is just genuinely that thermal.

Adopting the rather playful tone of your lover, you sulkily murmur, “It’s unfair if you don’t tell me about those things now, Sannie,” letting your finger trail along his slippery chin with softness, aware that you will only semi-attentively listen to his words from how distracted you are from his fallen eyes that are slowly flaming up. There’s only two things on your mind and while one of them includes going home, the other one can be perfectly executed on the couch.

“Oh, so naughty things, sunny, I don’t know if you want to hear about them, actually.” 

San chuckles, his words contradicting how eagerly he kisses your hand, piercing through you with his eyes, making you melt. He gets his upper body up, his knees caging you in and you murmur “tell me about them”, as your boyfriend grabs you by wrist to help you move it down his chest that is still perceivably sleek, down to his abs that are just as lubricious and then, with a heavy sigh he definitely forms into a clear “ha~” leaving his mouth which makes your insides wobble.

Your boyfriend is such a tease. On stage, he doesn’t get to be as interactive as his band-counterparts do, like getting their sweat-drenched heads dangle down to the crowd and be ruffled through their hair, but Sun Set surely takes off his top oftentimes enough so every fan of his can admire his build. Your boyfriend’s amazing build. 

He lets go of your hand to go through his red hair with a smirk, peeking down at his belt, clearly driving you into a wall here which is going to feel feathery light, but still so scary to brush against your skin— you have to make a choice here, one that makes your voice come out stuttered, one that proves to San that he's on the right track, cooking you up deliciously.

San might be a tease, but ohh, Y/N. You’re just so fun to tease, aren't you?

“P.. Please, Sannie,” you murmur, shyly, voice whispery because the headache fizzles inside your head, rather cripplingly slowing down your thoughts. He knows he likes it a bit too much, you being shy, but there’s something twitching inside his pants, when San thinks about the things he can do to you tonight to make you react even more, a smirk hurrying onto his face.

“Mmmm,” he hums, and you watch him collectively gather the bits and tits of his vivid, loud, rocking mind, silence remaining strikingly strong between you two, your head beaming everytime he doesn’t say anything to take his time to think. 

“Things you were doing with that pillow for example,” San hushes. Your hands move by themselves to unbuckle his belt, and while you do blush a little bit, both your hands get the black leather strip out the clip with hurried motions. “Or the things you were doing to my thigh just a second ago, sweet sunshine.”

Your boyfriend snickers and once his belt is on the floor too, he shuffles a bit to the back and wraps his fingers around your ankles, pulling you so you lay straight on the couch, while he’s kneeling between your legs, cowered as small as his big frame allows it.

“I- I don’t think I understand yet, Sannie,” you droop, wanting San to get more explicit with you so you can swim in his vulgarity that he oozes, and also make him finally confirm you don’t have any reason to be embarrassed about being the only one whose guts are demanding to be stirred. He’s getting more bricked up, and since his baggy jeans are hanging loose now, you can see his cockhead bulge out his boxershorts. “I think you need to explain it more…”

You gulp at the wet patch and flutter with your eyelids, and with San’s thumbs caressing your love handles and leaning towards over your torso, his heat radiates to your face again. You were feeling a bit more bold, but no, you could never get used to how intensely San looks at you. His eyes speak a thousand words, sing a million songs, and they’re all about getting a bite of the red on your cheeks and taste how it will melt into his tongue. There’s a droning buzz which thumps into your eardrums and it’s blood rushing to your head at the incalescence of your boyfriend, who doesn’t let a second pass where he’s not touching you, even when he’s pulling off your t-shirt from your body.

“Hmmm, maybe you’re just not able to listen correctly, my love,” San sneers, almost paradoxically sweet, and arousal boils in your guts, while your sweated body gets used to the new temperature, your boyfriend’s hands cupping your breasts once, just to have finally get a touch. “Because of the headache, right? Mmm, right,” he murmurs to himself, and San unravels the bandana on his thigh.

You look at how he straightens the fabric in front of you, and how his hands slowly approach your head. “Will you let me fix that, sunshine?”

“Wh.. What are you going to do, Sannie?”

“Show,” and San instantaneously corrects himself, after he lets the slightly warmed up fabric drape over your forehead, ”hmm, make you hear,” to then let it fall over your eyes, getting very close to your ear, so his warm lips line your earlobe, his raspy voice reverberating in your ear. “Make you hear yourself, Y/N.”

“Yeah..?”, you whisper, and look at San for a last time– his eyes sparkle in excitement that can’t be heard through the droopiness of his voice:

“Listen to how my love makes you feel, baby.”

Ayayay…

“How is this, Y/N?”

“Lemme see,” you joke and you blink a few times, after the bandana has been tightened behind your head. It is pitch-black dark in front of you. Quickly, you feel how you’re getting more aware of San’s breath coming through and leaving his mouth– you following his slow pace soon enough– and feel especially how his rough fingers are tucking in your hair so he gets to see all of how your face muscles pull together in pleasure, sending your cheeks and nose into a ticklish wave of sensation.

“It’s,” you say, but what was once a steady voice turns– after getting goosebumps all around after San courses down your neck to your sternum with the tips of his fingers– into a whimper: “A- amazing, Sannie.”

You hear San sigh, and you’re sure it’s a sigh of awe, him watching your hand search for his so you can hold it. He intertwines the fingers immediately, and when he’s at your shorts with his other hand, fingers delving to where your hip fits perfectly into his hold, San begins peppering kisses on your abdomen, you falling apart into a tense, sensitive mess at the cause of his touch.

“Can you feel how my fingers and lips feel against your skin?” 

You weakly nod, his thumb chafing over your skin, as San gets his hand out and touches you everywhere.

“Words, sun. Your pretty voice, I need it to continue, alright?”

“Yes, Sann–”, you answer, but you shudder, when San lets his digits dangle over your breast, ghost-like little grazes spreading over your torso, shoulders tucking in by themselves, as you feel it run over your back like your wings are expanding, “nngh-nie…”

“So soft, aren’t you, sun? So soft for me,” your boyfriend murmurs against your fuzzy tummy, and hooks his fingers into your waistband. You were intending to hum a forlorn ‘mhm’ to answer him again, but it comes out whimpered, after San lets his thumb, which is still anchored to your hand, slither over your cunt, his thumb tickling over your now even more sensitive nub.

“Can you feel how warm you are?”, he whispers, becoming a bit greedier with the kisses he’s spreading down your pelvis-bone, accompanying how carefully he’s sliding your clothing off, your skin being more and more revealed to his eye, while you live with the uncertainty of darkness in front of yours. “How do I feel like, Sannie?”, you ask him, hearing your own voice ricochet in your throat, your ears have become more conscious of sound.

“You feel like,” he whispers, and then, when the shorts have reached your knees, and San breathes against where your cunt is soaked in your panties, he purrs, “you’re mine.” 

His voice condenses warmly there, like a sweat, and you clench just by how raw your boyfriend speaks. The thought of him seeing your soaked cunt also just makes you run hot, and if it wasn’t for his elbow keeping you open, you would’ve closed down on him.

“Y- yeah?”, you shudder, as it seems that San is breathing in the lust-sodden heat from between your legs.

“Would you like to say it for me, sun? I would love to hear it…”

“I’m.. I’m y-yours, Sannie,” you choke out, and you are really not meaning to be as shaky as you are, but just when you thought you knew what you were about to get touched at your erogenous area, San has somehow managed to hover over your body and has bit into your lip, the darkness in front of you feeling even more blurry in front of your eyes due to the sudden gesture. “Hmmn–!”

San chuckles. “Aww, relax, sunshine. Trust me, Y/N, okay? I won’t hurt you, but if I do, just tell me. I’ll stop immediately,” he reassures the safety you find yourself in, despite not seeing anything in front of you. As you nod and let out a confident “Yes, Sannie,” with a deep breath in, San hums and pinches your nipples.

“Sannie!”, you whine out, and your voice cracks, when you feel his tongue circle your bud and his eyelashes flutter against your eye-collar, seemingly soothing the little surprise with his warm saliva. “Yes, sunny? Do you want me to stop?”, San asks, his cocky grin unmissable in his voice, his other thumb tickling your nipple.

“N- no, I-I mean–”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His voice is slightly lispy from how your nipples are stuck between his lips, San softly sucking them in, pecking your flesh around with cottony kisses. 

“Yes, good… v-very.” 

“More?”

“Yes, yes, more.”

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” San laughs throatily, and then traces your silhouette, making you even woolier than before, a little squirm leaving your mouth, when his thumb meets your feverish crotch. “Your sounds,” San sighs, and presses his lips against your neck, his upper body slightly weighing into yours, as it seems that he’s holding himself up by grabbing into the backrest of the couch, “are my drug, baby.”

“Mmm-hm,” you answer, trying to keep your mind where his voice leads you, but you’re too busy feeling how San’s fingers sift slowly through your folds, softly, carefully, feeling every inch of slick squelch warmly around his digit. “Fuuuck,” San grunts into your ear, circling his fingertip around your clit, causing you to grab his wrist that has wandered to the top of your head. You have to gulp, and your boyfriend takes it as a sign to go a bit slower on you, but it doesn’t stop San whispering things to make you spiral into a hypnosis. “Fuck, sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy…”

A whimper leaves your opened mouth, as San chuckles in awe and coats his fingers with more of your arousal. “Is this what happens when you watch me play, sun? Getting all wet for Sun Set?”

It feels like your head is going to fall off your neck, when you softly nod up and down, San’s finger continuing to make you clench by stroking over your clit. “Th- this is what happens when,” you murmur, pushing down on his wrist as your lower abdomen continues to flutter and his lips nibble at your neck, his tongue working around a sensitive spot, “wh- when my boyfriend kisses me and then ignores me for an hour…”

“Aww, ignoring you?”, San whispers, easing his fingertip at your entrance, your hot hole immediately tightening around him, “I could never ignore you, my love…”

“Hngh, I don’t think so, Sannie… You were so concentrated on your drums…”

San whispers out, “I’m sorry”, as he curves his finger a little, caressing your inner skin fondly. You feel how thick his digit is and your glutes tense up. It doesn’t stop you from speaking your truths though.

“It’s okay, Sannie… It looked so… fucking… hot.”

“Really?” Your boyfriend gasps, always loving how you sneak in some brass into your words, and sucks lovesomely at your neck, his humming vibrating against your pulse, his finger pushing in through your arousal that gives him an easy entrance. “So say again, I made your head hurt because I’m so ‘fucking hot’, sunny?”

“Mhm,” you answer, and after San’s whole finger curls inside, you mewl out, “you’re the hottest man there is, Sannie– you’re– you’re so hot I don’t know what to do with myself. Only you can make me feel like this…”

“Fuuck…”

Your words seem to rile your boyfriend up very much, it is getting very difficult for San to not immediately run his fingers in and out, maintaining a slow pace that you feel expanding your tightness. “S- Sannie, you… you make me so crazy,” you whine out, his fingertip grazing over your sweet-spot, making you clench, “You make me feel so amazing, y- you are amazing, such a good musician and boyfriend, baby, you’re– nmmmh~!”

San couldn’t help himself and had to finally kiss you, his plump lips encasing your mouth, tongue running over yours the second he’s able to find contact. The warmth of his sweet saliva floods your mouth and you have to moan in some air.

“‘mmmsorry, sunny,” San mumbles, and you’re so sure that there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips, when he knocks his head back. “Couldn’t wait. Hehe.” 

His lips peck yours, as he’s working his finger inside you, rotating it around your deepest spot. Sighs leave your mouth every chance you get, as you try to not be overflowed by the pleasure that’s stirring your guts and cutting off your breath. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out, “Can you feel it too, Sannie?”

“Hmm?” San is more than a bit out of breath now, warming up the fabric over your eyes with the loud exhaling through his nose. 

“Can you feel how… Can you feel how much I love you?”, you ask, but before San can answer you, you grip into his wrist again, gathering your confidence through your pleasure, “How fucking aroused I am because of you?”

“God, Y/N, I can feel it,” San huffs, and then pants with his cock twitching at your unforeseen blunt courage, “You’re so wet for me… Only for me… Oh, sunshine, I love you so much.” 

Though you can’t see how he’s biting his lip in excitement, San is moving his finger in and out of your hole while shuffling to your lower body, gripping your ankles with his free hand to gently place them over his shoulders.

“Sun, can I eat you out first?”, San asks, his voice running warmly over your abdomen, as he licks his fingers clean, “You can wait for me, can’t you, Y/N?”

“Wait for you–?”, you whirr, feeling exactly how thick and calloused San’s finger is inside you, lubed up by his spit, not being able to feel anything else, “Wait for wh- what?”

“Wait for me to fuck you, because right now, sunshine, I want to, god no, I need to eat you out, please, baby.”

Overwhelmed by his sudden lust-soaked rambling, you’re left with no other chance than to search for San’s neck, trail up his head and grab your boyfriend by his hair, let it tangle between your fingers, as San breathes against your dripping pussy. “Mnhh, do whatever you want tonight, Sannie. I want you to.”

“I want you, Y/N. ‘Want you so fucking much, sun… God, I don’t know how I waited, either.”

You chuckle and feel how the couch brushes against your back, leaving some phantom scratching there, after San pulls you closer by your hips, his forearms stationed around your pelvic bone.

“... So worth though, fuck.”

A sigh escapes your opened mouth, as San licks up your cunt one time, his hot tongue gliding up the wetness with ease. “Hngh,” you grunt, pulling San’s hair, and since your boyfriend hasn’t re-entered his finger, you clench around nothing, needing to be stuffed again, preferably by his cock. 

“You taste so fucking good,” San grunts back, already sounding like he’s drunk and delirious, lapping over your clit with his tongue while panting like a dog, “so so fucking delicious, sunny.”

“S- Sannie, oh my god,” you react to how your boyfriend sprints over your sensitive nub, your heightened senses drowning you in your own slick, as you hear how San’s tongue creates squelching, wet sounds.

“Hmmm? Feels good, huh?”

“Sannie, s-so good, god– you’re so– fuck fuck fuck–”

“What am I?”, San asks tauntingly. It seems he’s found some fun in the manner you’re tripping over your own words at the cause of his tongue. You don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning, you can feel that he’s enjoying himself by how his chuckle heats up your cunt even more. “Tell me, sunny, what am I?”

“You’re so– good! Sannie! Fuck, Sannie, you’re gonna make me–”

“Make you cum? Already?”, San grins, his fingers working you a beat that could only be described as irregular, him pumping in and out and licking you up and down so fast, he leaves you no time to recover from the last thunderous pleasure. “God, I love you so much, ‘m gonna make you cum so fucking often, all the time,” San murmurs, letting his mind roam free, your arousal coating his lips and tongue, while you tug his hair to keep yourself from choking on your own breath, as it becomes more stagnated and needier, filling out your lungs with helpless pleas. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, oh my god,” you whimper, eyes rolling back that you are seeing bliss and bliss only.

“Gonna cum?”, San husks and thrums against your sweet spot until your thighs tense up, “are you cumming, sunny?”, his fingers continuing to ram into you, “cumming for me?”

“Yes, uh- oh my god, yes, yes, yes–”, it splurts out of you, “yes, yes, yes, YES!”

“Thaaaat’s it…”

You push your legs together, San’s head clutched between your thighs, as his tongue runs over your clit that little stars begin to form in front of your unseeing eyes, your first orgasm resonating through your body, his voice vibrating on your cunt.

“Good girl…”

“F- f- fuck,” you whimper, your stomach crunching together, and you feel San’s thumb caress your abdomen, as he places wet kisses all across your pussy.

“Sannie,” you breathe out, falling to the back in exhaustion, as your boyfriend pulls away and kisses all of your legs down to the calves, folding you together even more.

“Yes, sun?”, he asks, and massages your hips. 

“I wanna see you, Sannie...”

“Oh yeah?”, San chuckles. 

You nod and tug at the bandana around your eyes, but it’s too tight. “Please, Sannie, I wanna see you so bad… I wanna see my handsome boyfriend,” you murmur, your cunt still pulsating between your legs, barely recovered from your orgasm.

“Yeah?”, San hums and leans forward, his jeans pressed against your wetness, as he gets his hands behind your head and loosens up the knot. “Careful, sun,” he whispers, kissing your temple, as he slowly removes the fabric from your eyelids, the dimmed lights flickering into your vision.

“There you go,” San hums and slides the bandana away, letting it sit behind your head, as he looks down at you. Your eyes struggle to see immediately and you have to strain your eyebrows, but your boyfriend patiently just watches your pretty face get used to seeing again. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer and blink with some force. San slithers his hand against your neck, his thumb sitting at your jaw, as your eyesight assuredly returns. 

There he is, grinning, just like you expected him to, but what you didn’t expect is how absolutely messy you’ve made him. His red, fiery hair is disheveled, ruffled, sticking out to all kinds of directions, his lips are puffy and still wet from kissing you and eating you out, his thin breath leaving his mouth. 

“Felt good, huh?”, San asks, rather rhetorically,  as you subconsciously lean your face into his handhold, in awe of how handsome your boyfriend is and how lucky you are he’s yours, as his lips peck yours.

“Mhm,” you chuckle, a bit weakly, but with your hands skidding along his sweaty silhouette, it should become quite clear that you’re not finished. “I want more, Sannie, please.”

“Aww, can’t get enough of me?”, your boyfriend croons and lets another hand slide behind your waist to– “I’ll get you all you want, my love,” make you sit on his lap, or rather on his abs, after he tilts his body to the back with you in his arms and scuffs his baggy pants from his legs. 

“Speaking of which, I thought we might wait until we’re home,” San admits and kicks his jeans away, “so I got no condoms on me, sunshine.”

“Mmm, Sannie, you know we’re okay,” you smile and kiss him. “Your bandmates don’t care about stuff like this…”

“Sorry for caring about you?”, San grins and pinches the tip of your nose. “So you’re fine with me just pulling out, yeah?”, he asks, as if you haven’t talked about this over and over again, but you keep on that smile and caress his cheek.

“Yes, Sannie. It’s all okay, and I want you so bad right now, please.”

“Alright,” San smirks and kisses you back, propping up his legs, so you slide onto his crotch.

“How do you want it?”, he asks, and you can feel how hard and throbbing hot he is in his boxer shorts, as you grind on his length. “I-I don’t know, Sannie, I want it all,” you laugh, airily, your slick adding to the wet patch that has been created by his pre-cum.

“You wanna watch me how I fuck into you?”, San prompts, and kisses your collarbones. “Uh-huh,” you sigh and throw your head to the back. “Please fuck me so you can see what a mess you make me, Sannie.”

San laughs. “I already saw that, sun,” he says, playfully teasing you, and gently grabs your legs, so he can lift you up and get his legs away from the couch and his feet on the floor. 

You sit on the couch how a couch is supposed to be used, your back leaning into the cushion, San now standing in front of you, cups his own erection through his boxer shorts, grunting into his hand.

“This is your fault,” he says, snickering, pulling off his underwear, his cock bolting out, after it passes his waistband. “God, Y/N, how could I ever concentrate on my drums when I have my perfect girlfriend sitting in front of me, huh?”

You press your lips together, ignoring the fact that Sun Set can, in fact, concentrate on his drums, but San is merely explaining to you that with every song he plays passionately, uses his all of his body to accompany the music with energy, you, Y/N, live in his mind to excite him. 

San gets your legs between his arms, anchoring your inner knees at his bicep, and your hand works automatically to grab his erection and pump it. 

Realizing you haven’t given him an answer because you were just too amazed by his body, you inhale to speak, but San leans down and kisses you solicitously. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes out, looking you deep in the eye, as his forehead is almost pressed against yours, “can you put it in by yourself?”

You lick your lips, the last kiss lingering ardently on the flesh and lead San’s cockhead to where your cunt is waiting, ready for his girth.

“Sunny,” San grunts, and as your hole stretches out with his pelvis driving inwards, he kisses you on your neckline repeatedly. “I love you so much, I love how you sound, feel and look like, how good you are to me,” he rambles, immediately sinking into a place of pleasure. “I love everything about you, Y/N.”

He may not be a singer, not even a background vocal, but off-stage, San always makes sure you know what a great girlfriend you are by moaning, whimpering and groaning it, sometimes just to himself– mindlessly thrusting into you, or directly into your ear, so his voice buzzes through your head.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whine, head falling to the back and bouncing against the backrest after his whole length is inside you, “So good, Sannie, please don’t stop.”

San confirms your comfort and hauls his hips backwards to snap inside again with a slight smack against your hamstrings. You both moan and once San has found a steady pace, the room fills with your voices and sounds of your skin meeting in a clap.

“Harder,” you grunt, and this is San’s command he will never not listen to, even when he’s still working his hips in and out of you, figuring out a way to comply immediately. He grins wide and goes through his hair, before he leans deeper into your body, taking a step closer as he does so– repeating your words by chuckling, “harder?”, folding your knees together and pushing them over to the side. 

“Y- yes, please.”

“Harder,” San repeats again, and exhales the word out his mouth, his hand gripping into your hip. “As,” he grunts, thrusting into your cunt with all he’s got, “you,” again, while fixating you in place, “wish,” and again, “my love.”

You both inhale some air, but out of your mouth, it comes out a distorted moan, when San picks up in speed and rams himself into you with no mercy, barely any opportunities to secure yourself on the cushion beneath you. The couch begins to squeak with San’s rough movement, your body being rocked over, and your head becomes light, the expanding tickle in your abdomen binding itself together into a knot of pure pleasure that’s preparing to release. 

Silence is sweet, but clamor can be so savory; the sounds of the springs under the cushions mix up with his stagnated gasping, and with San’s absolute undefeatable sense for rhythm makes it sound like he’s creating a drumbeat with his body, the couch bangs against the wall, increasingly sending your brain into overdrive. San’s cockhead hits the deepest spot in your cunt repeatedly, over and over again, pushing your buttons that makes you feel like your thoughts are leaving your head within your whiny moans.

“Oh, fuuu-uuuck,” you gutter, voicing out your pleasure through all of the rutting, your eyes disappearing behind your head, and San’s neck shimmers in sweat, his Adam’s apple glistening, as he unfalteringly shoves forward and outward, grunts and groans reverberating in his throat. His face is tightened together, mouth remaining open, as he watches you slowly lose it, the prettiest of sounds entering his ear which boost his stamina.

“Fuck, sun, I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers and rams himself through you, his hips working desperately for his release, ignoring how the couch is being unsettled and broken with each of his hard thrusts, and his hand is dug so deep in your hip, the skin has turned slightly red. “Are you cumming?”, he grunts, and despite how much your head is bobbing anyway, you nod and whine out, “yes, yes, yes, Sannie, I’m cumming–!”

Your eyelids feel heavy, and your body floats in orchestral pleasure as you cum on San’s relentless cock, gripping into the couch with your fingernails, as your back arches, cunt tightening around San.

“God, baby, I love you so much, I love you so so much, Y/N, my sunshine, my–”

San pistons his cock into your puffy pussy with an unmeasurable speed, the shrill squeaking of the springs overtoning his needy whines, the banging against the wall being resemblant of his rough body-movement, and droplets of sweat drop of your body, as your boyfriend pulls your over by your hip. His hot cum spurts out and lands on his own abs, as well on your stomach, and you heave in exhaustion, laughing weakly.

His hand pumps out the last drops of ejaculation out his cock, and even if his cock remains hard and twitching, San falls to the front and hugs your sweaty body, kissing your cheek and lip alternately. 

“That was,” you chuckle, watching how San has to brush his drenched mane to the back, “amazing, Sannie.”

“Yeah?”, your boyfriend asks and strokes your shoulder. “You forgive me?”

“Hm?”

“For the headaches, sun. Do you feel better now?”

You snicker and share a short, but very gentle kiss with San. “I feel so good, Sannie, thank  you.”

His dimples pop out and San fetches your clothes, whilst rubbing his head against yours, nuzzling his temple into your scalp. “I’m glad I could relieve you, sunshine.”

San turns his head around and searches for something to clean up the cum with, and all he finds is his bandana on the couch. “Hey, I’ll wash this, alright?”, he laughs, when you send him a judgmental look, and to calm you down he pecks your forehead.

“Help me get my clothes on, please,” you murmur, and as you feel your body going lax, San immediately grabs your underwear, shorts and his hoodie so you don’t feel cold again. “Mm, I should get you more of my stuff,” he smiles, after he’s put the oversized clothing on you, “you look so cute in my hoodie, sunny.”

“Really?”, you answer, voice guttural, feeling a bit sheepish under San’s affectionate gaze, you being the only one that’s clothed, while he remains pretty much naked, skin sweaty and steaming.

“Yes, love, but honestly, you always look amazing, Y/N...” 

Your eyes were drooping down, but you couldn’t have missed how San’s voice was deeper and huskier than it should have been. 

“Baby… Please… I’m exhausted…”

When you squint, San is licking and biting his lower lip and because he is so exposed, you can see how his cock is glistening again, while you can only leave out a sigh. Your boyfriend’s stamina and energy should be studied…

“Sorry, you’re just so hot,” San chuckles out and gets his boxer shorts on. “Body and mind do what they want sometimes.”

“... And you want me, I get it, okay… God, Sannie.”

“Yeah. I want you so much.”

You, sat on the couch, watch him again, Sun Set, how he’s scratching his neck, his impassioned pulse beating in his muscular chest, beating for your gaze, you, his girlfriend’s voice, your words, your entrancing existence, the melody that guides him through his life.

A playful chuckle whirs in the silent practice room, and your eyes meet his, as you look up to San.

“I guess we’ve got to take a shower at home.”

Give me a command, and I'll do what you ask 'Cause my favorite music's your "Uh, uh"

---

ugh. vampire chan. not gonna lie i was expecting big old meanie vampire but a soft one? one soft and a simp for his girl? LET ME AT HIM NOW.

Monarchs: Blood Favor

Pairing: Vampire Chan x Human Fem Reader

Summary: Chan is a great leader. You’ve known him your whole life. You trust him. You also trust him to teach you new things after things escalate between you.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI due to adult content. Blood feeding, Virgin MC/inexperienced MC, MC has a praise kink, corruption kink, size kink if you squint, fingering, unprotected sex/PIV, heavy use of petnames(Baby, baby girl, good girl. I have to. It’s Chris.)

Word Count: 10,800 and some change

Author’s Note: Oh my god I’m finally updating this series. It’s been a year! Holy cow! I’m sorry! 😭 I will say I’m not sorry for this Chan. 😤 He’s a 300 year old vampire with a consenting virgin in his lap. Enjoy though. I’m glad I finally got this baby out. And those who have been invested in the series let me know if you caught some references and I’d love to know what upcoming fic in the series you’re excited for!

Tag List: @lee--felix, @nymeriaaa, @hyuckilstan, @9900z, @jess-1404 , @formysakeamaryllis, @skzflix-au, @downforseochangbin, @lotus-dly, @cb97percent, @moasworld, @nixtape-foryou, @skizzel-reblogs, @svintsandghosts, @jeyelleohe, @starryoong, @djeniryuu, @toplinelix (Message me if you would liked to be added or removed. You’ll be notified when I post!)

Scared doesn’t cover what you felt as you sat in the office waiting for the vampire leader. Chan, as you knew him, agreed to meet you when you sent a letter asking to speak to him. You needed a favor, or rather, his help. Your father is sick, and the bills are piling up. As a last attempt, you hoped for Chan’s graciousness after 40 years of your father’s work for him. 

The door opening behind you causes you to turn around to face it. You hadn’t seen the leader up close in a while. The same as you remembered him. His undead state preserved his appearance. 

He took confident strides across the office to where his desk sat. The courage you had vanished. A dark aura surrounds Chan. Despite being a compassionate leader, he is an indisputable, powerful creature. You saw what his men could do with less strength. 

Now here you sat pestering him when he had more pressing matters to deal with. You planned to keep your conversation short and to the point of avoiding dragging out the situation. The longer you stay in the same room with him, the quicker you’ll fall apart from intimidation. Even knowing Chan since childhood, he still scared you and the last thing you wanted was to anger him. 

He sat down with a huff, giving all his attention to you. “I am sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No, I wasn’t waiting long.” You shook your head as you sat down across from him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Of course. How is your father doing? I meant to check in. Unfortunately, I have been busy.”

“Sir, forgive me.” You clutched your hands in your lap, trying to hide your anxious trembling. The daunting image of your frail, sick father haunted you to the point you might cry. He needed your support now more than ever. “He’s not doing well. Felix believes there is better care outside the city. I don’t have the funds. I hoped you might help.”

Chan’s deadpan expression was impossible to read. Is he upset? Angry at the request? There was no shift in his tone when he spoke, either. “How much are you asking for?”

“Five thousand. I have done everything minus the business. I can not sell it. It’s providing for my family and it’s my home.”

“I am not a charity. Running a town to keep the humans here safe from what is outside those walls is my job. I can not just give every struggling family inside money.”

“I understand that, I do. But I also know how much good my father does for you and without him, it has hindered you and your newborns. If he recovers, he can—”

Chan had cut you off mid-sentence, his tone harsher. “So you are expecting me to just help you? What do I get?”

“Sir, I have nothing to offer you.” Your mind raced, searching for words to say. There were no other options left. You needed to convince him to help you. Your father didn’t deserve to die from not being able to accept the care he needed. “He has given you so much of his time. Not once disappointed you. I am asking you for the generosity of your heart.”

“What heart? I am undead.” Chan looked amused by your words as a smile appeared on his face. He sifted in his seat, hands now clasped together, resting in his lap. His piercing gaze is tearing you down by the second. Doubt filled you, telling you wouldn’t get any help here. All you wanted was to disappear. Let the ground open up and swallow you whole. Anything that was an escape from the moment right now. You perked up hearing him speak again. “You have something to offer me.”

 “I will give it to you. Just tell me what, and I will.” You said without hesitation. Not caring if you sounded eager.

“You have your blood. That’s what you can offer me.” You were uncertain of his meaning, taken aback by his words. Asking for clarification, feeling discouraged the longer he went on. “I’m sure you are aware of stock workers.”

Yes, you were indeed familiar with the job. There were people in town that dedicated their life supplying sustenance. The workers paid to be fed from. A decent amount of people will do such a job, but unsure if you could. Especially with the vampire leader himself. 

“I’ll give you the money. In return, you will provide for my hunger till I’ve decided the debt is paid.”

The offer conflicted you. Your father would benefit from the deal, even though Chan is asking for a lot. There were a bunch of questions flooding you at once. You lacked knowledge of how often he fed or what your body would go through trying to keep up with the demand. Deep down, you knew you would give anything for your father’s well-being. He fought this hard to survive and you would do the same for him. 

Despite the numbness coursing through you, your hand reached up from your lap to over the table towards Chan before you processed what you were doing. You needed to say yes now before you backed out. You could deal with the consequences later. All that mattered was gaining the funds. You forced yourself to look at Chan as he looked between your eyes and hand. He must know how nervous you were. Still, you kept your hand steady, wanting to show your dedication to the deal. 

His icy hand came over to grab yours to shake. “I’ll get the money to you by tonight. I’ll summon you when I need your work. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

Truthfully, you had no preparation for what was coming. It was too late now. Chan made good on his word. Roughly twelve hours later, he visited your home to hand you the gold. He wished your father luck with his health before leaving without another word. You appreciated the discretion from him. You kept the details of the meeting to yourself, not wanting the rest of your family to know. Regardless, the reassurance of the gold perked even your father up. Your uncle would leave with him in the morning to Rellbridge. A few days of travel for the higher chance of recovery. 

While growing up, your family often took trips to the river outside the city. The river was wide, running cold even in the middle of the heat wave summer brought. A small patch of land sat in the middle of the river. Grass covered the stretch of land with a large tree sitting in the middle. 

Your older brothers often swam across to the island. All three of them were adventurous, risk takers, or foolish, as your mother said. You never went deeper than waist high into the water. The river was deceiving. Eerie peacefulness on the top with a sweeping current able to surprise anyone if not prepared. 

The boys loved the challenge. 

However, teenage boys can be cruel, teasing you about how scared you were, teasing how everyone else can swim across the small stretch with ease. You always wanted to prove them wrong. 

You practiced, grew as a swimmer overall. Determined to show not only were you capable, but willing to conquer your fear. Once you were ready, you swallowed down the uneasiness and took the risk. The rush was exhilarating. You had done what you considered impossible. Even beating two of your brothers. 

Thinking back on such events only motivates you today. As childish as it is, fear can’t run your life. The task is normal for many, so it's not a big deal. Stock workers provide blood every day. So can you. 

As you did before, you take a deep breath now and walk up the estate steps. 

The estate Chan owns is busy at all hours of the day. A true epicenter of the town. You could find several of the clan members here at various times. Besides them, a human city council was here in one wing of the estate. The group oversaw the town during the day, dealing with a majority of human affairs. Civil issues that didn’t require Chan’s attention. Either way, people are coming or going. 

When you made it inside, one of Chan’s staff greeted you. Thankfully, Chan had informed the staff earlier about your arrival.

“I can escort them.” Says a voice coming from behind you. A quick glimpse back revealed one of the younger leaders you knew as Seungmin. “Follow me.”

“Thank you for the help.”

“It’s not a problem.” Seungmin shrugged indifferently. “This house is a maze.”

The walk is quiet. You stay on Seungmin’s heels, avoiding several groups of people moving throughout the home. How Chan finds any peace here is surprising. 

Rounding a corner, Seungmin almost collided with Felix. “Oh Seungmin! I was looking for you. I need your help.”

“Let me drop this human off and I’ll come with you.” Seungmin half turns to you. “What’s your business, anyway?”

“Uh, an arrangement. I am to offer my blood.”

“I see. A blood favor.” Seungmin nods, continuing to lead you down the familiar hallway to Chan’s office. “You should be ecstatic. People beg to be in your position. Be thankful for this intimate opportunity. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

You hesitated to respond. Felix seemed to pick up the uneasiness, giving a playful swat against Seungmin’s arm. “He is teasing you. Ignore him, we all do.”

“There is truth in my words.”

“Even if that may be, don’t scare the poor human.” Felix points to a nearby door. One you recognize from before. “It’s there. Go inside.”

After a quick word of thanks, you slipped past the heavy doors into the office. Chan is already at his desk this time, engrossed in a heap of papers. His hand scribbled with a pen over the stack. He doesn’t look up, only offering a word. “Yes?”

“I came as quickly as I could.” 

“Ah, forgive me,” says Chan, looking up for a moment. He stops writing, places the pen back in the holder, and collects the papers to tuck away in a desk drawer. “I must have lost track of time. Please, come closer.”

Anxiety twisted your stomach as you walked across the office. A quick wipe of your hands against your clothing couldn’t stop the nervous sweat from forming. 

In reality, you are safe. 

The safest place in the entire world, to be honest. Yet, the idea of an undead creature taking your life force for sustenance is jarring. Once again, you remind yourself how stock workers provide this service and have for years. They live full enjoyable lives; you tell yourself. You can do this. 

Perhaps Chan can read minds after all this time in existence. His first words on the matter are a question laced with concern. “Are you sure about this? Speak now if you have any hesitation.”

“Yes. I am here by free choice, and not by force. I swear.”

“If you are uncomfortable, please tell me. We’ll go back to the original arrangement. You can always pay the loan back. I’m sure friends of the family would help.”

“I don’t have the money.” You shake your head. Now is not the time to debate your decision, already having mustered up the strength to show up. Pushing the annoyance down, you plead with Chan. “Please, let’s just do this. I can close the debt sooner and it’s easier for all of us.”

“Alright. I don’t want you to feel this is your only choice.”

You stand your ground with your response. Chan doesn’t press the subject further. Instead pushes his chair backwards to create space between the desk and himself. He pats a knee, encouraging you to sit. Your eyes widen. He’s suggesting you sit on his lap? You may know each other well, but this is a wild request. 

Take a deep breath. The proximity is so he can feed. That’s all it is. There is nothing to worry about. 

With that in mind, you sit on his knees. 

Chan is breathtaking up close. He’s seen death, been through wars, lived hundreds of years, and yet no signs of aging. He remains as he was when turned. 

Your eyes meet his. They search yours, watching with curiosity, trying to read your face. The intimidation is still there even when he doesn’t mean it. You swear he can see through you. Straight down to your beating heart.

Can he see how it skips a beat? 

Unable to keep eye contact any longer, your gaze drops to his lips. Chan is undead, no blood runs through his system. Though even with paled skin, his lips still hold color. Still plush and inviting. It’s no secret that many find Chan handsome. Plenty of people in the city gossip about him, about his lips, and the cost they would pay for one kiss. Seungmin wasn’t wrong. You can name several friends who would envy such a moment up close. 

Chan’s voice stirs you from your thoughts. “Your heart is beating so fast.” 

Words remain trapped in his throat. What can you say? This was not what you expected. Most stock workers don’t elaborate on their work. Now Chan acts so casual with you on his lap. Even a hand on your thigh to keep you from slipping off. 

“What are you so afraid of?” He asks, voice low. “You’ve known me for years and I’ve never hurt you.”

All you can focus on is the hand on your thigh. His other hand sneaks around your frame to hold you to him. The contact causes goosebumps to form where he touches. He expects you to be calm? 

“It’s not you.” You attempt to keep your voice stable. “I’ve never been in such a position before.”

“With a vampire?”

“With anyone.”

“Well, that is something you don’t hear every day.” Your gaze immediately settles somewhere across the room. The playful tone in his voice causes you to regret the sudden confession. “Lucky for me to be your first.”

Mercifully, Chan doesn’t tease you more. Only asking for confirmation to continue one last time. Still, you don’t back down. You take another deep breath, ready to get this moment over with. 

The hand on your thigh moves, coming up to brush the hair away to expose your neck. You curse at yourself. You could have made his life easier by wearing it up or out of the way. Chan doesn’t appear bothered. “I’ll be as merciful as I can be. I’ll only take a moment. Try not to move too much.”

You tilt your head to the side, feeling his soft lips against your neck. A shaky sigh leaves you as his lips continue to ghost over the skin, searching, looking for a pulse. You didn’t expect the gentleness from Chan. Not from the creature who has single-handedly taken out a group of elite vampire hunters. 

The sharp pinch of his fangs sinking into the skin catches you off guard. You try your best to keep still as a board. I’ll only take a moment. The words echo in your head. A hand of yours grabs a fistful of his shirt to ground yourself. You fight every instinct to not to pull away from him. 

A small whimper slips past your lips, causing Chan’s grip to tighten around you, keeping you trapped against him. An occasional groan leaving him reverberates through his chest as he continues to feed. You let your eyes shut, waiting for him to finish. As time ticked on, you grew weaker. 

A ‘mere moment’ went on for an eternity.

At last Chan pulls away, hand reaching for a handkerchief out of his pocket to bring to the bite. Your hand replaced his, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. 

The gentle touch returned, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder. “Try not to move. Give yourself a moment.”

“Your touch is comforting.” You mumble out. “I didn’t expect that.”

“I may be undead, but I don’t lack sympathy.”

You tried to focus on his words. The gears in your brain are stuck in mud, sluggish while trying to process. The patterned rug in front of you spun. Your eyes trail over to the clock in the room. The hands were blurry. No matter how much you blinked to clear your vision, the dizziness grew. Closing your eyes provided some relief. Chan’s advice seemed reasonable. You were in no rush to move. The thought of walking seemed risky. 

It couldn’t have been more than a second. You don’t remember passing out. Only realizing what occurred when coming to. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the surroundings. You were in a bedroom of some sort. Thick dark curtains are drawn shut. The room is dim, only illuminated by a lamp on the nightstand by you. The eiderdown quilt covering you was soft under your fingers. Chan spared no expense on his belongings. 

Chan. 

The bite. 

The sound of him feeding off of you came back. 

Your fingers trailed up to your neck. The area is tender to the touch. Two small marks remained where his fangs pierced the skin. The wounds have scabbed over. 

Did he place you here? 

You smiled to yourself. How kind of him. There was a couch in his office. He could have left you there. Instead, he placed you in a bed, tucked under the blankets to stay warm. 

Speaking of the vampire, he came through the door across from you. “She awakens.”

“How long was I out?”

“Only an hour.” Chan saunters over. He sits on the edge of the bed, hand extended beside you to the nightstand where a glass bottle sits. “I had them prepare this for you.”

“What is it?”

“Beetroot juice. It will help you. Or so Felix tells me. He’s got more knowledge than I do.”

You accept the bottle from Chan. The juice is a dark plum color. The taste itself is earthy but bitter. Even with the added hint of honey, it’s not pleasant to consume. You sip with no rush to finish the juice. 

“Awful, I know.” Chan picks up on the distaste. “Visit the clinic when you can. Felix can test your blood. We have medication for those who are anemic. I believe they’re called Blaud’s pills. They’re common among a couple of our stock workers.”

“I’m sorry for all this inconvenience.”

“Oh nonsense. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you. You did so good for me.”

The simple praise sends a wave of warmth through you. Good? For him? Your mind tries to run with his words. Heart fluttered at such a comment. You inwardly scold yourself for thinking his words mean anything more than generic friendliness. You try to squash your thoughts down.

“How often do you need me?”

“Not every day.” Chan let out a chuckle at your sigh of relief. “Every couple of days will suffice. We can make a schedule. To be fair to each of us.” Chan places a hand on your knee, thumb caressing you over the blanket. The smile he offers seems genuine. “Please rest as long as you need. It’s no trouble for me. Then go see Felix if you need to. He’s available.”

The feedings become easier. Chan required less blood thanks to the schedule you decided on. He revealed he was grateful for the blood favor. Without the agreement, Chan would have continued feeding inconsistently.

The excuse? 

He was too busy to feed. 

There were bigger issues, he said. Chan argued he could manage his hunger. No one was in danger. He knew his body, and his limits from years of experience. 

Truthfully, that wasn’t your concern. Your heart sank. The one working so hard to keep his city running sacrificed himself. The creature stretched himself thin. Not feeding causes a handful of issues. From overall weakness to slowed healing times. 

Chan was okay with these risks? 

He’ll at least feed consistently for the duration of the deal. That’s better than nothing. Stubbornness to help will keep you coming to the scheduled appointments. Especially now the fear is gone. 

Despite that, there is a new growing problem. The attraction you have is getting stronger. You tried to let the feelings go. He’s just being kind. The concern he shows for you is normal. You are a human while he’s a vampire. It’s nothing more than that. The lingering touches aren’t happening. A figment of your imagination. There is no possibility that he…

The thoughts melt away when Chan hoists you higher onto his lap. His lips are inches from yours. The full, swollen lips haunting your dreams for the last week. The same lips muttered the familiar line of praise of how good you are for him. 

That damn praise will be the death of you. 

If the proximity doesn’t take you out first. 

Your gaze often finds his lips. Today is no different. Watching them move when asking about your well-being. The second time he repeats himself is when you can speak. “I’m sorry. Being lightheaded is making me delirious.”

His lips curl up into a smile, voice lower, and taunting you. Almost as if he can see right through you. “And what makes you think that?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Self control flies out the window when Chan gives you permission. There is no hesitation as you close the distance, slotting your lips against his for a brief, timid kiss. You cling to any part of him your fingers can reach. He’s not close enough to you. Even with your whole body curling to press against his. You want another. A million more if possible. Every dream of his kiss doesn’t compare to the real thing. From the sound of things, the desire appears to be mutual. 

“Again.” Chan says in a hoarse whisper. “I want another taste of you.”

Chan’s fingers find your chin, pulling your face closer to him. He takes the lead this time around. You attempt to match his energy. Lips sloppily trying to follow. A warm sensation pools in your gut. In this moment, only the two of you exist in this time and space.  

Your chest tightens when you pull away to breathe. Reality sinks in like gravity, yanking you back down from the clouds you floated away to. You kissed the town’s leader. He allowed you, then asked for more.

“I shouldn’t…” you say, eyes wide in panic. “I…” 

“What’s wrong?” Concern flashes over the vampire’s face. “Whatever is the matter?”

Your mind races. What have you done? You were here to supply blood. What do you do now? The only plausible solution is to move to another city and never show your face again. Not only did you kiss this man, but it was your first kiss. You just kissed a 300-year-old vampire. Not some average man in the city. No, you saved it for a heat of the moment with Chan of all people without a second thought.

“Please tell me what’s causing this distress.” The vampire moves into your line of sight. His arms are the only reason you don’t melt into a puddle on the floor. The hold tightens when you attempt to squirm away. “Talk to me.” 

“I don’t know why I did that. I’ve never…” As your words trail off, Chan encourages you to continue. “No one has kissed me till today. A woman in her twenties and never been kissed. Oh, you must think I’m so pathetic.”

“No,” Chan coos, continuing to reassure you. “Of course not. You’re young. Still figuring life out. There is no rush for these experiences.”

This creature doesn’t understand what door he is opening. The sweet words that are only going to feed your delusion. This must be a dream. You can’t fathom a reality where this is happening to you. Now he sits in front of you with a grin on his face as if he is proud the series of events occurred.

“I am dreaming. I have to be.”

“But you’re not.” Chan leans in closer, lips almost touching your own once more. “Can I have another from you? I quite enjoyed myself.”

The creature knows his way with words. To be expected with his age. Such an extended time on earth he’s bound to learn a few lines. Your thoughts dip negatively. He must think you are clueless. Most of your knowledge comes from gossip among your friends and a few late night self indulgent moments. You never felt close enough to someone to try anything until now. 

The leap into the unfamiliar territory is magnetic with Chan. You have the free will to stop, but you don’t want to. No, you long to see where this moment goes. 

You kiss the vampire again. His lips distract your worries. You focus on the way his tongue slips past your lips to deepen the kiss, how one of his thumbs rubs comforting circles against the back of your hand, and you stop fighting the growing desire flourishing inside of you. 

“Do you want us to continue? Tell me what you want.” Chan asks. The serious tone is back when you nod. He’s not accepting the action as an answer. “Say it or I won’t.”

“I want you to kiss me again and I want you to touch me.”

“Good girl.” He praises. “You must understand consent and communication are very important. How will I know? Or if you want it? I can’t read minds.”

“I understand.”

“Good. You can deny anyone and everyone. The priority is you and what you want.” Chan’s hand tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Can I unbutton your blouse?”

Once Chan hears a vocal response, his fingers move with precision, undoing every single button. He peels back the flimsy material to reveal the thin undergarment. Icy fingers brush over your breast with a featherlight touch. Your breathing hitches with the gentle squeeze. He kneads the soft flesh, causing your nipples to harden from the teasing.  

“But what about the door?” You squeak out, realizing you answered before thinking of the consequences. Your head whips around to glance at the unlocked door. “We’re in your office.”

“Don’t worry. These are private quarters. No one enters without permission. Staff know not to let anyone in while you’re here. I wanted you to have privacy during the feedings.”

Privacy? Chan genuinely cared about your comfort. He thought about everything. 

“How is this?” He asks. “Good?”

“Yes.” You answer. Uneasy to ask for more. “But can you?”

“Can I do what, baby? Do you need my hands somewhere else? Show me where.”

“Here.” You reach for his hand, leading him down to your parted thighs and against your clothed pussy. “I need you here.”

A quick shift of your hips lets you grind against his hand. The wetness makes your clothing stick to your folds. It’s rough yet not a painful friction. One that sends a zing of pleasure up your spine. Yes, this is what you need. The contact provides some relief. 

“Do you want me to show you the pleasure you’ve never felt? It’s okay to want it. Don’t be ashamed.”

“Please.” Your words come out a whine. “I…I’ll go crazy. It’s not a terrible pain, but I ache.”

“I know.” Chan stands up, arms holding you to him. Your limbs tighten around him, clinging to avoid being dropped. You might as well be a feather in his hold. There’s no struggle as he crosses the room to a half opened bedroom door. “Let me take care of your hunger for taking care of mine.”

A soft kick to the door with his foot reveals the same room you woke up in the first time he fed. He places you down in the middle of the bed, hands helping remove the layers of clothes you have. You expected to be eager for the first time being intimate with someone. Yes, your stomach flips with anticipation, but Chan provides a safe space. One where you don’t feel vulnerable being naked. 

“Can you take this off?” You say tugging on his shirt.

“Whatever you wish.” Chan nods, not hesitating to shed the shirt, letting it fall off the side of the bed. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight. All the muscles hidden under his clothes are on display. Skin you desperately want to touch.  

The bed dips where Chan kneels on the bed. His callused hands are rough against your skin, running up and down your thighs. He lets you set the pace. When you are ready, you part your thighs. You chew on your bottom lip, trying to gauge his reaction. You were already wet when you crawled into his lap when you first arrived. Now you swear you are dripping down onto the bedding just from his hungry gaze. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbles. Chan starts at your knee. Lips placing soft kisses on your inner thighs moving higher. Your body buzzes with anticipation. The tingling sensation between your legs drives you mad. He knows you need relief, and he tortures you. He already proved how gentle he can be. Now you just want him to hurry and help. 

You couldn’t blink, afraid the beautiful sight in front of you would disappear. Or worse, another dream you would wake up from. Chan’s fingers ran over your slit experimentally. No set pattern. Just the soft, repeated action to let you get used to the sensation. Curiosity ate at you, wanting to know what it would feel like if his fingers slipped inside you. Maybe something else? Would Chan go that far if you allowed him? 

“Have you ever touched yourself like this?” Chan asks casually. His eyes are back on your face, waiting for the answer. “I ask only to know how slow I need to go.”

“Yes.” You moan, focusing on his fingers, finding your clit to circle. It’s distracting. Hard to focus on your words. “But I- Oh, it’s too embarrassing.”

“Tell me. I won’t laugh. Be honest with me.”

“I-I’ve grinded against a pillow.”

“Mmm, never thought I would be jealous of a pillow.” You groan, throwing an arm over your face to hide the embarrassment. Chan only chuckles in response. “I jest. I’m sorry.”

His fingers continue the methodical touch, earning him a few more soft moans from you. When you peek at him, he still has his eyes locked on you. “Would you like my finger? See how you like it?” Chan asks, well aware of your breath hitching at the suggestion. 

“Yes, please.” 

Cautiously, a finger dips inside of you. Experimental with the prodding, testing the waters of comfort. The sensation is indeed foreign, but not unpleasant. Not when knowing what pleasure is on the horizon. 

“You’re doing so good for me. Can I add another?” Chan rubs reassuring circles on the side of your hip with his other hand. You nod, relishing in this gentle side of him again. The side you never expected. Two weeks ago, you could panic talking to him and now you never could imagine cruelty from him. Especially when he speaks with praise. “You’re such a good girl. Look at you. Look how my fingers get sucked in.”

“Full. So full.”

“I have no doubts. Pretty hole of yours is greedy.”

A third finger slips in. Your hole stretches around the width, accepting more of him with ease. Even your body wants him with the same desire. All you can do is squirm in your spot. The familiar feeling of too much and not enough comes back. “Oh Chan! Please, that’s…”

“That’s what, baby girl? Tell me. Does it hurt?”

“No. I want more.”

“I already told you. Use your words.” He’s so calm, collected while you sit here falling apart on him. “Say it.”

“Can I have your cock?” The words are foreign to you. Words you never muttered to anyone. If someone else heard you, it would be embarrassing for you to say such things. At the moment, this is right, meant to be. “I wanna feel you.”

“Do you?” The amused grin is back on his face. A look of triumph. The creature wanted you to be a desperate mess in front of him. You realize the cocky bastard is teasing you. “Say please again.”

The word barely leaves your lips by the time Chan pulls away, eager to remove his remaining clothing. Seconds later he’s back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You are so exposed, but not a single ounce of fear. Not with Chan. 

His body is in your sight, trailing down the smooth expanse of his chest down to his hand where he strokes his cock absentmindedly. Your eyes widen in shock. “You won’t fit.”

“I assure you I can.” Chan chuckles while hovering over you. One hand rests by your head while the other lines the head of his cock against your wet pussy. He’s right there. The realization that Chan is the first to have you so intimately hits you. The soft, caring tone is back. “Breathe, just breathe for me. Remember, we’re in no rush.”

“Slowly, please.” “Of course. Tell me if it’s too much.” You only gasp when his cock slips into you. He stayed true to his word, taking his time as he inches deeper with shallow thrusts. The low guttural moan slips out of him. “Ah, so warm and tight.” 

Your desperate plea for a kiss is heard by the vampire, leaning down to capture your lips. As expected, everything he does is soft. This care, the touch, the push to allow you to enjoy the new experience at your own pace. Currently, you are the only other creature in this world besides him and he’s determined to show you the tenderness you deserve. 

“Let’s see if we can relax you.” Chan says while his fingers find your poor swollen clit again, still sensitive from earlier. 

“I feel,” Your hips squirm against the bed. “Oh I feel something.”

“Good.” Chan encourages. “Don’t fight it. Embrace it.”

As you always do, you trust Chan’s words, allowing your body to accept all his touches. An unfamiliar sensation hits you out of nowhere. Your wall clenches around his cock, core feeling a furious rush of pleasure spreading throughout our body. Its toe curling, powerful enough to drive your mind blank, replaced with a satisfying fuzziness. 

In a few seconds, the pleasure was gone as quickly as it arrived. The sound of his thrusts is louder now, with the wetness that formed. Chan can bury himself deep inside you now. Every inch of his cock inside your walls, moving back and forth, pulling almost all the way out to sink back to the hilt. The initial stretch subsides with your body getting used to his size. 

“There we go. Better?”

“Yes!” There is desperation in your voice when you speak. Arms wrapping around Chan’s neck to keep him close. “Please. I want it again. I want more.”

You can hear the smile on his face when he speaks. “You don’t even know what you are asking for.”

His kiss is hungry this time around, tongue slipping past your lips when you moan. Your own tongue is timid against his, unsure how to match his enthusiasm. Chan doesn’t appear bothered with your inexperience, rather enjoying every second. 

Chan pulls away, sitting back on his knees when you need air. His hands are on your hips once more, pulling you closer to him, eyes locked on your pussy. “You take my cock nicely. So gorgeous when I fuck you.”

No one has ever addressed you in such a brazen manner. Hell, you have never heard Chan speak this way to anyone. Yet something about how the vampire speaks with a face full of adoration makes you want to encourage him. Just as his words inspire thoughts you never thought you would say out loud.

“You’re so deep inside.” You gasp out, hand trailing down to your lower stomach. If you dared to look down, you swear you could see him. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Chan’s gaze darkens. Your words appear to have the same effect on him. He leans forward, muscular forearms keep you trapped underneath him. All you can do is cling to him as his pace quickens. There is a proud smile on his face as your nails dig into his flesh. 

His thrusts are relentless. Chan’s shaped like a man, but fucks like a beast with the way he doesn’t tire out, able to maintain the consistent pace, and forcing another orgasm out of you. Thoughts melt away other than the pleading for more. He may drive you insane with how effortlessly he can bring you pleasure in a matter of minutes. 

“I will ruin you in the best way possible.” Chan growls in your ear. “I swear, no one will ever compare. They will dream of the pleasure I can bring you.”

You believe him. 

Chan is running late today. You sat in his office, watching the time tick by at an agonizingly slow pace. The clock across the room revealed two hours had gone by. You heard from the staff that he was out of town on his way back this morning, yet the sun had risen. 

You stayed unsure what to do. Most of the time, the wait minimal. Chan is a busy man, but he tried to make sure to not keep you waiting. He knew you had the business to keep operating. Today, a Saturday, you could handle a late opening. 

When Chan came through the office door, you could see the front of his shirt torn with several large gashes. The once white fabric now stained a dark red, undoubtedly blood. The material soaked, caked in enough that it was still wet. You have never witnessed Chan hurt anyone. Not even a bug. However, it didn’t mean he wasn’t capable. 

The leader froze, hearing you gasp. His face mirroring your shocked look. “I forgot I summoned you. It’s not human if that is your concern. A vampire’s blood.”

“What happened?”

“There was a vampire terrorizing cities.” Chan fumed as he crossed the distance to the fireplace. He aggressively ripped the shredded shirt off his body. Without a second thought, he tossed the remains in the flames. “I was tracking her for a while now, in case she neared us. I assumed the hunters would kill her, but she was clever. Slipped out of their grasp a few times now. She was foolish enough to come close.”

Your heart sank seeing his body. He survived a mauling. Large lacerations covered his broad back.

Vampires heal at a sped up rate. 

Yet Chan wasn’t. 

Your arms wrapped around your knees. You were unsure how to help. A million questions ran through your head. Should you offer your blood? Would yours be enough? Was he even in the mood? 

Chan’s fist slammed against the wood banister, causing you to flinch. “She threatened everything I have created!”

Cautiously, you unfolded your limbs. Pushing off the couch, it took only a few strides to close the distance. You placed a hand on his shoulder. Chan’s tense body relaxed under your touch.

“Come.” You muttered. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chan turned, moving away. He headed straight for the connected bathroom. You followed, allowing the vampire to continue to vent. The annoyance radiated off, hotter than the sun. “We can coexist. We have for centuries, but there are a select few that will go to the ends of the earth to stop it. Human and vampire.”

Chan plugs the sink, running the hot water to fill the basin. The steam fogs up the mirror in front of you. You could barely make out how only your reflection showed up. He half turns to face you. “I hope you never have to run into either.”

“It’s a shame. You care for all of us without a second thought, and yet the church still thinks you’re an abomination.”

“They assume we keep you for livestock.”

“We’re not.” You huff. Anger courses through you. “We have freedom. No one holds us here.”

“I know. They say you need liberation.” Chan digs around the drawers near his sink. He pulls out a rag, which he aimlessly tosses into the water. His jaw is clenched tight. His fists rest on the counter. You worry he may break the counter out of rage. “The worst part about tonight? She wasn’t alone. She had a newborn. A young man, a boy. So young and lost.”

“What will happen to him?”

“He will stay. I will undo what she has taught him.” Chan let out a sigh, shutting off the water. “If you have other obligations, you may leave. I can find a stock worker.”

“No, I’ll stay.” You closed the distance between you two. Your hand reaches into the warm water, fingers brushing Chan’s fingers to take the rag from him. He turns to face you, leaning against the counter, watching you wring out the excess water before bringing it to his chest to wipe away the dried blood. 

“I can do it myself, you know?”

“I am aware. You always take care of us. Let me take care of you.” You peek up at Chan to see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, amused by your words. You asked for clarification on his gaze. “What is it?”

“Those innocent eyes of yours are trouble for me.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Yes you do or you wouldn’t have waited for me this morning.”

“I waited because I am in debt to you.” You explain, hand still working to clean the last few spots of blood off his skin. “I respect you enough to work around your needs.”

Chan’s hand found yours to stop you. Smile gone, replaced with concern. “If you are uncomfortable with what happened between us, you must tell me. I want your honesty.”

“Uncomfortable, yes, but not for the reasons you are assuming.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I lack experience.” You shrug. “I’m a fool in front of you.”

“Then I will teach whatever you desire to learn if you wish.”

Your eyes find the floor, attempting to hide how flustered the suggestion makes you. All you want is more of Chan. To feel his hands on you again. For him to recreate that pleasure. You tried at home with your own touch. It wasn’t enough to bring back that rush of bliss no matter what you tried. You gave up in defeat, too frustrated at the lack of release.

Now the simplest touch had your body reacting, tingling with desire. One glance from him had your thighs pressing tight. You craved him. Anything to have his mouth, his hands, and his cock. Nearly going delirious with your desire for him. You were nearing hysterics. One night with him and you were losing self control. Ready to offer your entire body to him. 

He will entertain the idea. How could you turn down such a tempting offer?

Chan takes the rag from you, letting it fall back into the water. “Tell me, did you touch yourself at the thought of me?”

“I tried, but it wasn’t the same as you.” You shake your head, frustrated with the blank expression on the vampire’s face. “That look…You think I’m a fool. Or worse, pathetic.”

“No, never. It would honor me to be the one to show you the world of pleasure.”

“We shouldn’t talk about this now. You need to feed. You need to heal. That should be our priority.”

“I’m fine. Right now, I want you. I need you.” Chan reached for your hand, guided down to his crotch. He holds it against the hardened bulge. You gasp, surprised to learn how you affect him. The hand over yours tightens the grip. “See what you do to me? 300 years on this earth and one touch from you drives me to insanity.”

“Chan, I-“

Both of Chan’s hands cup your face now. “Tell me it happens to you. That you need me as much as I need you.”

Chan needs you. The familiar wetness forms between your thighs. All it takes is his words. Because you need him too. He’s the only one that can make you feel this good. The both of you are two sides of the same coin. Two minds heading the same direction, craving to be connected. 

“Yes, I do. I give you all of me.”

The room is hot, your skin warm to the touch, yet his hands and lips are ice. Every moment of contact burns, not in pain, but a shock to your system. Chan turns you to face away from him, his chest flush against your back. The eagerness in him causes Chan’s fingers to fumble with pulling the hem of your dress up. You giggle, trying to help without getting in his way. His hand travels between your legs. You can’t move, trapped against his body. Two fingers slip inside with ease, scissoring in movement to prep you for him.

“Now what’s this?” He questions. Your attempt to pull away only encourages him. “I thought you wanted my touch. Why try to escape it now?”

“Please! Just…” Your words trailed off with a frustrated groan. His fingers aren’t enough. You want his cock, want the stretch, and the fullness again. 

“Patience, babe.” He mumbles behind you. A soft nibble on your ear lobe causes you to sink further into his hold. You can hear the smile in his voice. “I will take my time with you. My reward for surviving the night.”

His fingers never faltered. In and out, working you open. The orgasm is unexpected when it hits. Your hands ached, clinging to the counter, needing to ground yourself. As well to keep you from falling because of your weak shaking knees. The lingering buzz of the orgasm fizzles out. 

You gasped as Chan’s fingers pulled out, gently circling your sensitive clit. Your hips shift away to ease the overstimulation. It’s no use, his fingers follow, keeping the attention on your clit. “Chan please. Enough of this teasing.” You whine, pressing your ass against him. He groans at the friction against his clothed cock. “Let me have you. Haven’t I earned it?”

“You will ride me. So I can watch your beautiful body. We’ve earned that today.”

Your response never makes it out of your mouth. Not when Chan stops touching you to guide you to the bedroom. Both of you haphazardly throw clothes across the room. The thin dress you wear almost tears off your frame out of excitement. 

Chan falls back in the bed with a huff, positioning himself in the middle, head resting on the pillows. You join soon after, knees on either side of his hips while your fingers work the length of his cock. Chan is the desperate one now, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. Breathy gasps and low groans from your teasing. He’s a work of art sprawled underneath you and for you alone. 

“I want to feel you deep inside me.” You say while shifting your hips forward. “I can’t wait a moment longer.”

Your hand guides Chan’s cock to your wet folds. His head tilts back, enjoying the wet warmth sheathing around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you sank down onto Chan’s cock. Tiny, shaky breaths left you as stilled. The stretch is satisfying. You wanted to move, to savor the drag of his cock against your walls. Chan picked up on your eagerness as well, reminding you to be patient. Give your body time to adjust.

Slowly, you worked your hips up and down. Your hands rested on his chest for leverage. The familiar heat pulls into your gut. Even with this series of events happening so often, it’s delightful, as if for the first time. 

“There’s my good girl.” Chan grips your hips to help guide you up and down. “Nice and steady, baby. We don’t want you to tire out so soon, do we?”

“No,” you say between breaths, “I want to go as long as I can.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Something about the adoration on Chan’s face creates a warmth inside of you. He looks at you as if you are the only other being in this world. The sex you have together is something more. Perhaps your brain is teasing you with such an idea. There is no possibility of your town’s leader falling for you. The softness, the care for your wellbeing, and pet names he uses? It can’t be for nothing. 

Chan’s sudden words break you from your thoughts. “You’re thinking too much. Enjoy yourself.”

His eager fingers find your swollen clit, circling the bundle of nerves, causing you to clench around his cock. If you move, his fingers follow your movements, never breaking contact. He locked his eyes where you connect, watching his cock sink inside your wet hole. 

“Come on baby, don’t disappoint me. Give it to me.”

Your hips grind down, keeping Chan’s cock buried deep inside you. His fingers continue to tease your clit. The growing orgasm hits, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure rushes you, causing you to dig your nails into his chest. The last thing you see before closing your eyes is the satisfaction on Chan’s face. 

You pray he means it all. Hopefully, you are not just a play toy for the vampire, but something more. You want that reality. More than these sessions with him. Perhaps eventually you will have the courage to ask. Until then, you will enjoy every ounce of pleasure he brings to your body and you’ll soak up every praise that leaves his lips. 

Chan is in a better mood today. Rather, a playful one when he finishes feeding. Less blood loss means the weakness that follows isn’t dreadful. He still lets you rest on him. To check on your well-being, fingers sneak to your sides to tickle you. Your giggling fills the office. 

“Such a sweet moment ruined by you!”

“Ruined?” Chan playfully mocks. “Providing enjoyment is what you mean.”

“Oh, you are trouble.” 

“Trouble? You are the one causing trouble, and I am just a poor fool caught in your web.” Chan shifts you in his lap, helping you slot your knees on either side of his hips. His hands anchor around you to hold you in place. The amused expression changes, darkens to the familiar one of lust. “You danced in my mind during my meeting this morning when I should have been listening.”

“What did you imagine?”

“You, right here.” Chan says while hoisting you up in one fluid motion, forcing you on your back onto the desk. Contents on the desk fell off the edge. Official documents crumple under you. Chan is unbothered, eyes roaming over your body. “Spread out all pretty for me.”

Panic runs through you as your hand bumps an inkwell resting in the corner. The small container topples over. Blank ink runs off the edge onto the rug below. A noise of shock leaves you concerned about the rug below. 

“Leave it.” Chan mumbles into your neck. “It’s fine.”

His lips are everywhere at once, kissing your lips, down your jaw, over the fading bite marks, to the sensitive places that cause you to cling to him. Chan thrives with your squirming, nowhere to go when his body keeps you pinned against the desk. All you can do is helplessly arch into him, hips shifting under him, to entice him to move on from his teasing. His touch becomes overwhelming, yet not enough at the same time. 

“Chan, teach me.” You gasp out. “Teach me how to be good for you.”

“Is that what you want?” He mumbles across your skin. Lips placing kisses across a collarbone. “Teach you how to be perfect for me?”

“Yes.” You nod, hands wandering over his shirt down to the front of his trousers. “Tell me how to touch you, how to touch myself, the best position to present myself to you. I want to know it all.”

“How can I resist you?” Chan pulls away to bunch the fabric of your skirt against your stomach in a rush. A low groan slips past his lips. You are bare, no undergarments this time around. “You did this for me?” He asks, relishing in the small nod you offer in response. “How naughty.”

“Makes it easier for both of us.”

Chan watches as his fingers slip inside you with ease. The wet sounds of his fingers working in and out fills your ears. His voice lowers. “I’m sure the thought of me kept you soaked all day. So damn desperate for me.”

“Yes. Always think about you, too.” You gasp, head falling back. Your heart pounds in your chest. There is no shame in being so exposed in front of him, only desire now that you are comfortable fooling around with Chan. “I-I couldn’t even focus on work.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

A knock at the door caused you both to freeze. Not once during your sessions has there been an interruption. Chan doesn’t pull away. Two fingers curl inside of you, pressing against the familiar gummy spot. You bite your lip to muffle the moans threatening to come out. 

The knock occurs again. This time, a voice comes from the other side. “Sir, I apologize. You’re needed upstairs. It’s urgent.”

Chan huffs in annoyance. He struggles, contemplating what to do. To help the decision, you offer reassurance by saying you wait. You staffed the store well today. The employees won’t miss you. 

“I’ll be gone for only a moment.” Chan says, pulling away. He brings both of fingers in his mouth to suck the remnants of your taste. He gives one last remark before moving towards the door. “When I get back, I want you on your hands and knees naked on that bed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Chan halts with his hand on the door handle. Your giggle breaks the playful glare he gives you. He leaves, shaking his head. A warmth of pride fills your chest. You may be weak at his praise, but the vampire is weak at the use of titles. A fun way you learned to even the playing field. 

Hopefully, using the title earns a fun reward. 

There is someone else in Chan’s office when you come in tonight. A vampire. One you have never seen before. Chan motions you closer when sensing your hesitation. 

Elegance is the first word that comes to mind when you see the vampire up close. His posture is straight as a board while he sits. The suit on his thin, lanky frame is pristine, not a wrinkle anywhere. It’s sinful how beautiful this vampire is. Sharp features paired with big doe eyes that briefly glance over at you. His voice is soothing when he speaks to Chan. It’s not uncommon for outsiders to visit town. This is the first time you have seen another vampire that isn’t one of Chan’s creations. 

Chan grins when you come over to him. “This is Seonghwa. He is our neighbor. An elder of Hongjoong’s coven.”

“Hello,” you mumble shyly before turning to Chan. “I can come back later when you are free.”

“Nonsense. Stay with me. We won’t be long. He has another meeting with Jisung after this.” 

You want nothing more to sink into Chan’s embrace. Though the two of you are not open about the relationship you have. If it even is a relationship. That’s another reason you are here. To ask for clarification. If this is still just business to your leader or if it’s something more. 

The arm snaking around your waist to pull you into his lap reassures you. Chan wants you here, besides him. He’s willing to show you off in front of another coven leader. If you meant nothing, this public affection wouldn’t happen. 

Chan goes on with the conversation. “It’s true though. I killed her.”

“An ancient one? I’m impressed, Chan. Years of the church hunting her and you destroy her in one night.”

“I had too. Hongjoong would do the same. I told him I would take care of her. He needed to deal with that hunter infestation.” 

“An inconvenience.” A sigh left the other vampire. “But under control.” 

“Seonghwa, you understand that Hongjoong’s ways are not practiced here. Fewer eyes are on us. It’s why you see so many hunters.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes. “No, we have hunters because we are closer to the coast.” 

“Even more reason not to attract attention. He’s set in his ways, I know, but you must break some of his habits. Before it gets worse.”

“So you let your humans suffer?”

“We are careful. No, selective is a better word.” Chan leans forward to pick up a small glass container sitting in the middle of his desk. “If this works as well as you say, then even better for us.”

“Try it.” Seonghwa suggests. “Works on old and fresh wounds.” 

The smell of floral hits your nose when the jar is opened. Chan dips a finger into the dark salve, pulling out a small amount. You lean away from his approaching finger. There are a million concerns. The most prominent being the lack of knowledge of what ingredients are in the foreign substance. 

“It’s safe. A medicine to help the pain.” Chan’s voice is soft when he speaks. He waits to see if you continue to protest. You relax in his hold, tilting your head to the side to expose the freshest bite. 

The tension in your body melts the second the salve comes in contact with the bite. All the remaining pain dissipates. You can release the breath you were holding thanks to the relief. 

“See, always trust me.” Chan offers a reassuring smile. He allows you to take the jar to examine, already returning to his conversation with Seonghwa. “The compelling isn’t helping either. It can wear off.”

“Compulsion is not used often. An old practice. Not practical. Only used for interrogation.”

“All I ask of you is to be careful.” Chan heaves a sigh. “Onto other news, I heard Felix accepted the apprentice.”

“Yes.” Seonghwa smiles wide, fond of the person they discuss. “I think she can do a lot of good with proper training. My background lacks modern medicine. She’s eager to learn.”

You tune out the conversation. The topics are of no real importance to you. Nor is it any of your business. Truth be told, Chan was distracting you. The hand wrapped around you wanders under the hem of your blouse so the pads of his fingertips found a sliver of bare skin on your side. The soft, mindless caressing was feather light. Every brush sent a tingle through you. Such a harmless action. Though one that ignites something inside you. 

Eventually, Seonghwa stands from his seat, pulling on his jacket. “Thank you Chan. Now excuse me, Jisung is waiting. I don’t think I’ll be much help, but I will tell him what I know. I will take your advice and talk to Hongjoong as well.”

“If anyone can convince him, it’s you. He listens to you.”

“He does on occasion. The benefit of being his partner.” Seonghwa’s gaze turns to you. He points at the jar. “Please use the salve when the pain starts. It will help.”

Without another word, Seonghwa leaves. The office door shuts as the two of you remain in silence for a few minutes. Chan’s touch doesn’t stop. The question you wanted to ask is on the tip of your tongue. All you have to do is say it. Then you will finally have your answer. You can stop stressing over it. 

“What is troubling you? Hm?” Chan questions with concern. His other hand finds your chin to turn your face towards his. “I figured you were nervous because of Seonghwa, but your heart still beats so fast.”

You search Chan’s eyes. How could you ever have feared this man? Surreal how the short time has changed your entire outlook on him. Now, his charm has entrapped you. Stuck in love, desperate to know if it’s mutual. Perhaps he can shatter your delusion lightly. He’s been consistent with his kindness with you. 

You swallow the lump in your throat before mustering the courage to speak. “I can not fall in love with you.”

“Why not? Am I not worthy of your love?”

“No, the opposite.”

“You should never say such things.”

“You can have anyone. Why a woman with a silly crush?”

“Because she cares for me.” Chan’s hand brushed the hair away from your face. “She sees me at my lows and still wants to ease the burden. One of the few that makes me realize I’m cared for.”

It’s an honest answer. Straight from the source. An answer you didn’t expect. You spent so much time doubting the possibility his feelings were genuine, you never expected this as a reality. Butterflies swarm in your stomach. Any words you have for a response twist your tongue, keeping you silent. 

“If you wish to end this, I won’t stop you. The choice is always yours to make. I ask, for me, to consider waiting a little longer. A chance to let us flourish.”

“No!” you cry out, stomach lurching in panic. The outcry causes Chan to chuckle. Your words come out in a rush. “I want to continue. It scared me to bring it up.”

“Such a silly human.” He places a kiss on your forehead, following his words. Another on the tip of your nose. A final one on your lips. “Stop being afraid to tell me how you feel. I thought we were over this.”

Chan shushes your protest with another kiss, distracting you from your thoughts. There is no fight for dominance when the kiss deepens. Only a soft push and pull from not being close enough. He leaves you breathless every time. 

Chan is the one to pull away, knowing you won’t. The corners of his mouth curl up. He relishes in satisfaction knowing he’s the cause for the longing consuming every fiber in your being. 

“I hear your father is making a wonderful recovery.”

“He is, thanks to you.” You wrap your arms around his neck. “He’s excited to come home, to go back to work. The happiest he’s been in years. We wish to pay you back.”

“It’s unnecessary. You already paid the debt.” Chan shakes his head. “Your family owes me nothing.”

“But you don’t run a charity, your words.”

“A leader is only as strong as his people. I have to put their care first.” The corners of his lips turn down towards the floor. Remorse heavy in his voice. “I often say things in the heat of stress and regret it afterwards. Something I’ve always struggled with.”

“But you still helped.” You respond, not missing a beat. A hand of yours ghosts over his chest. “You have a good heart. Yours may not beat, but that doesn’t mean you lack one.”

Chan nods, staying silent. Your brows knit together in confusion. Something else appears to be on his mind. It’s unusual to see him struggling to find words. You encourage him to speak. 

“Changbin’s birthday is coming up. The town is celebrating.” Chan clears his throat, now speaking with more confidence. You can’t help but smile at the nervousness he has over a simple question. Over 300 years on this earth and he can still get flustered. “I want you by my side. Would you be interested in being in my company for the party?”

“I’d feel honored to go with you, but I’ll need to find something to wear.”

“I won’t protest you being naked.” Chan mumbles while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His soft lips brush over the familiar sensitive spot. He nearly distracts you from his words. You smack his arm lightly, earning you a nip in the skin of your neck in retaliation. Chan pulls back with a smile. “You are too easy to tease. I’ll contact a seamstress. I’ll have them make you something for the event. How’s that?”

“Better. Do I have to earn it?”

“I can think of an arrangement.”

Your eyes roll in response. Chan’s playful mood is a welcome addition. You hope it stays a while. He deserves happiness. He deserves these moments of peace after the chaos being a leader brings. Your heart swells with love, knowing you can provide this space for him. He can tune the rest of the world out and collect himself. You want nothing more for him and you plan to continue showering him with affection. For as long as you can.

Series Masterlist

©︎Abiaswreck | Do not copy, repost, or translate | As always, reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to comment, reblog with feedback, or send me an ask. I’d love to hear from you!

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙞. 𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨

↳ A famous rapper trio looking to open their relationship. A charismatic dancer looking to open your mind. A myriad of possibilities, none of them tame. In at least one thing, Chan was right. This can't end PG.

↳ 3racha x Lee Know x female reader

↳ All drabble chapters <;1k

↳ 3racha au, fwb, free use, fujoshi reader, polyamory and enm, angst, smut, mxm, fxm, perceived mental illness, dead dove do not eat

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」  「© September 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

a/n: welcome to what happens when a commission gets out of hand. and that's probably putting this mess politely. i tried something new w this series, partly to attempt to address what seems to be a diminishing tolerance for longer chapters, but mostly to improve my style. this is shorter, but snappier. the challenges i faced w this story were some of the most difficult, the topics within some of the rawest. i like to think i got there in the end. (ty thea for putting up w my constant despairing). please heed the warnings and as much as you're able to: enjoy. dedicated to dear sanne, who initially commissioned a drabble. have eighty-five x

“Minho!”

Even with as much gumption as you put into the calling of your roommate’s name, the gush of water does more to drown out your voice; acquiescing to its power, you shut off the shower and try your luck a second time.

“Min, you there!?”

The trudge of heavy footsteps outside accompanies a gruff, “What is it?”

“Towel rescue, please!”

“Again?”

You swipe ticklish runnels of hot water from your forehead. “It’s not my fault a certain someone never thinks to replace them!”

“You can’t check before you get in the shower?” Minho gripes.

“I forget!”

Indecipherable grumbling carries off down the corridor. After a few moments, the bathroom door cracks open.

“I’m coming in.”

“Alright. Just don’t, like, look, or anything.” You tuck behind the glass shower door. Like it’s not made entirely of glass.

Minho steps inside, left hand shielding his eyes as his right offers out a clean towel. He can’t be long out of bed himself; shirtless with ash-blonde hair mussed and unkempt, loose shorts slung low around his shapely hips. Condensation mists the air and settles on his skin, his honey complexion glistening. A deep and heavy warmth throbs wantonly; as it has done every day since you met.

“Fuck me, it’s hot in here,” he puffs. “The shower has a temperature below scalding, you know.”

Well versed in concealing your infatuation, you roll your eyes. “Says the guy that only ever showers in ice water.”

“Cold showers are better for you. Healthier. It’s, like, proven.”

“So is spinach, but you refuse to touch that.”

Minho grimaces. “That’s different. Are you going to take this towel or what?”

“Yeah, I’m just— Can you come a little closer? I don’t want to get out.”

He shuffles forwards, socks sliding over the damp linoleum. “You forgot your slippers too?”

“Maybe.”

You crane around the glass, reaching for the towel. “I can’t— Minho, closer.”

He shuffles a bit more. You crane a bit more.

“Minho, just give me the damn towel!”

And his hand drops, thunder in his expression. He marches across the bathroom, not remotely nonplussed by your nakedness.

“Here,” he glowers, shoves the towel at you.

You snatch it breathlessly. “I told you not to look!”

“I told you to stop forgetting a damn towel.” He grins, abruptly about-faces to leave the room.

“Heathen.”

He stops at the door; you think your insult responsible until he says, “You do know I have seen you naked before?”

Breathless.

“W— What?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“But— When? How?”

“Just, you know. Around. We live together, it was bound to happen.”

“Right...”

Minho scoffs, turns to leave, the broad expanse of his naked back rippling with movement. The crippling urge to run your nails down it leaves scratches on your soul. Red and sore. Pretty.

“If the mood ever strikes, I’ll make us even and show you mine,” he says, closing the door with a wink.

His on-brand maniacal cackle carries away, implications left to hover.

You spend another ten minutes in the shower, shame descending with every helpless whimper your bitten lips fail to contain. Does he know how he ruins you? How you’re forced to purge him from your system by your own hand? Two fingers full and yet not even close to stretched? And this time the urge was brought on by nothing more than a thoughtless joke.

Pathetic.

Minho lives under your skin.

You’ll never carve him out.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

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my heart hurts.

— clair de rose (m) (6)

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count; 44.3k

genre; vampire!pirates! au, fantasy

summary; escaping your master's home, you stumble upon a ship that houses the fiercest brigand crew around. unbeknownst to you, the captain of the ship has had his eyes on you for a while.

note: this fic deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

— prequel to clair de lune, also part six of clair de lune (can be read as a standalone fic) warnings under cut

part five | part seven

content: angst, descriptions of violence, blood, knives, guns, pirate-centred, anxiety, panic attacks, graphic description/s of stabbing/fighting, explicit language, suicide mentions, scars, past emotional/physical abuse mentions, manipulation, lying, character death/s (MCD), if you squint there's fluff, smut

Hundreds of years prior

You grip the lining of your dress, heels clicking against the wooden stairs as you make your way up to the ship. The air is colder compared to just moments ago, illumination peeking just over the treeline. As soon as you step to the top, a man shifts, stepping just in front of you. His wear is worn compared to yours, chequered patterns, loose-fitting trousers held up with a thick black belt. His scarf wrapped around his check, wrists decorated with leathers of many sorts. He’s a pirate if you’ve ever seen one. You hold in your breath, handing him a cotton sheet. He glances down, taking it from your fingers.

“You are to board the first ship offland,” he reads, eyes flicking over the words. It's the best writing you could attempt at short notice. You look back, the quick steps of the royal guards moving closer to where you now stand. Just moments away from catching you. “And it must be ours?”

“Yes sir,” you grip his wrist. “It is of utmost importance that I enter your ship at this very moment.”

“Well, miss,” he looks down at your wear. A dress covers your figure, corset tight around your waist. Mud covers your once golden heels, The rips showing your ankles is scandalous enough, especially from someone of your class. He holds the paper tightly. “I must say we weren't aware of someone like yourself coming, and we do not take aboard estranged wealthy folk that have run away. My apologies.” He bows slightly. The crew is completely off the dock now, only he stands there. “We cannot be involved in your wrongdoings.”

“I do not have another choice at this time, sir,” your words are desperate now. “I will leave once you arrive at the next dock.”

“That is months away–"

“Please, sir,” you beg. He licks his lips, eyes on his ship then moving behind you. They widen slightly, a sigh escaping his mouth.

“Enter.” He moves to the side. You stumble up the ramp, his body close behind as he pulls the last ropes off the pillars. Before the guards get the chance to ask about you, he’s already grunting, pulling up the hatch. It hits the ship with a loud boom, arm outstretched to lock it completely. He sighs, rubbing his sullied hands against his top. His eyes move to yours, another sigh escaping him.

“What is your name?”

“Rose,” you say. He moves around you, throwing his shoulder against a barrel to shift it closer to the opposing wall. “My name is Rose, sir.”

You cannot see how his expression shifts.

His lip quirks. “Rose. How delightful. Well, I am Yunho. Master gunner, but majority of the time just another mate. I have–” he lifts a pallet with ease, thrusting it against boxes “– No authority when it comes to new members of our crew. And because you are a woman, though there’s nothing wrong with that,” he adds. “You’re a risk. I trust the main crew, but I do not trust the hires that often desert once we arrive at the next dock. You are now a problem.”

“I will remain in the quarters you choose for me,” you say, stumbling when you feel the boat shift. He reaches out, helping you steady yourself. “And I will not interfere in anything nor anywhere I am not needed, sir. You can throw me in a cell if necessary.”

His head tilts, brows furrowing. “Though I appreciate the assurance, I will not hide you. You are to meet our captain, Miss Rose.” He gestures to the ladder just in front of the two of you. “The orlop does not have much ventilation, and it would displease me if you were to perish before you arrive at your next destination.”

You move to the ladder, glancing back at Yunho. He covers his eyes, turning around. “I would never let my eyes stray. In fact,” he moves around you, taking steps up the ladder with ease. “It would be alarming to the others seeing a beautiful Rose leaving the bottom of our ship. It’d lessen their shock if they see me first. Please,” he peeks down through the hole, a smile on his lips. “With haste miss, there’s much to do before we enter the neverending sea.”

With great hesitance your fingers curl around the wooden bars, lifting yourself up step by step. A bit frustrated with your heels, you kick them off. Yunho watches as they disappear into the darkness. His laugh is filled with astonishment as he helps you up the rest of the way, a hand resting politely on your waist as he helps you steady yourself. Without another word, he digs in his pockets, large cloths appearing. He bends down, gesturing for you to step into it.

“Ah, that isn’t necessary,” you insist, shaking your head. “I would not dare dirty something you own, sir.”

“You are on this ship as a guest, even if momentarily. I cannot have you walking barefoot, miss,” he insists, “It would be ungentlemanly of me to even consider doing the opposite. And please, just call me Yunho.”

“Gentlemanly,” you whisper, watching as he slowly wraps it around you. He’s careful not to touch your skin. “I have not come across that many pirates who are gentlemen.”

He chuckles, “Pirates. Are they not illegal? Why would you consider us anything like that?”

“Despite your politeness, sir,” You follow his body as he stands, his height making your neck bend back slightly. “I recognize Captain Hongjoong’s flag anywhere. I will not ever enter a ship without knowing a bit about it. That would be foolish, no?”

“Your act of entering was foolish enough,” he gestures in front of him, letting the two of you walk slowly. You assume you’re moving to the stern to greet his captain. “What would you have done if I denied you?”

You dig into your pocket, silver shining in the low light. “I would have entered either way, sir.”

“Ah, showing a weapon to a stranger,” he shakes his head. “You have just threatened me and yet here I am, bringing you to my captain.”

“Who is the ill-advised one now?” You quip. Another laugh erupts from his chest, disappearing just as it begins. “Oh?” You raise a brow.

“We have unwelcome company,” he says just as another man appears. His height matches Yunho’s, perhaps a slight shorter than he. His trousers are covered in gunpowder and other odd substances, sweat dripping down his skin as he holds a leather bag in his hands. His eyes stay on you, flustered.

“You are a woman,” his voice matches his looks. Handsome.

“I have been my whole life,” you state simply. His lips lift into a smile, gaze moving to the man beside you.

“Does Capt’ know?”

“He would if you weren’t standing in our way, Mingi,” Yunho points out, gesturing for him to move. “Make sure none of your filth touches Miss Rose. And please enter the shower rooms, you smell like the bottom of the blue. Mind your tongue once you leave us,” His nose wrinkles.

You’re sure you would see red cover his cheeks if it weren’t for the dirt. He bows quickly, eyes meeting yours as he does so. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rose. Even if ever so briefly, I will remember it for the rest of my days.” He immediately steps around the two of you, his stomps fading. You look back at him for a moment, before following Yunho once more.

“He is quite the charmer.”

“He is a buffoon,” Yunho rolls his eyes. “But he is a dear friend of mine. You’re often left a bit disorientated when you have a full conversation with him, but he is one of few men who I trust with my life. And he is one of our gunners, as well as other maintenance tasks. But nevertheless,” he waves himself off. “I’ve been pulled from the task at hand. By now I am sure Captain has been told of your presence. There is no such thing as a secret on this ship. Especially when Mingi spots something interesting. Or someone, I should say."

The two of you make it to the stern. Two knocks to the door and Yunho enters, leaving space for you to stand next to him. CAPTAIN is embossed into a metal bracket hanging on the wood, tapping against it when Yunho shuts it just behind him. The man sitting at the desk is engrossed in his writing, so you take a brief moment to examine the room around you.

Paintings line the walls, bolted surely for the unsteadiness that is being on a large ship like this. Some frames are too far from your sight to examine, drawings of people. You expect the captain's office to be lined with treasure, instead it is filled with memories. It's clean nonetheless, the smell of liquor evident. Your eyes flick to the shelf behind him. Yunho clears his throat, the captain placing his feather into his holder, folding his paper and tossing it into a top drawer. He stands, boots clicking against the floor. Yunho is relaxed as he makes his way over to you.

You hold the knife in your pocket close. Though Captain Hongjoong appears calm, you've heard the rumors. He is not one of the most feared captains on the sea without reason. He's much younger than you presumed, though. Height is rather lacking in a sense. But where he hasn't in height he holds in pure power and confidence, back straight and eyes peering into yours. His hair is slick back, cut rather short in comparison to everyone else. And it is blond, jewelry lining his ears and body. The rings in particular catch your eye, golden against his skin.

“One of the higher classes on our ship?” He glances over your outfit, eyes lingering on the torn fabric grazing your ankles. “A runaway from her duties?”

“Their whims are no duties of mine,” you retort. “And all of you are presuming that I am of higher status when I have not even uttered a word about it.”

“Clothing is quite telling, Rose.” It’s odd the way he says your name. Politeness dripped from everyone’s voices when they spoke to you, but this Captain. He addresses you as if you’re equal. Though strange it is a bit comforting being treated the same. “Then what are you?”

“I am only here to travel to the next port, and that is all. Inquiring more about me is not necessary.”

“No?” His brow raises. “Then what am I to do if the royal guard stops us in the middle of the sea? Proclaim that I haven’t the slightest inkling of your origin? Do you think that would bode over well?” He leans forward, eyes flicking to your hand tucked in your pocket. “That is not wise, Rose. A silver knife will do nothing if I truly want to hurt you.” He holds out his hand, taking a step back.

You look to Yunho but he only shrugs, chewing on a small stick. Your gaze moves back to the captain as he waits patiently, hand still outstretched. You remove the knife from your pocket and into Hongjoong’s hand. He nods, placing it on his desk.

“Now, tell me where you’re from.”

“The dock you just departed.”

“And your position in society?”

“A handmaiden.”

He nods slowly, “That would explain your wear. But you are usually at the whim of your caretaker, what made you leave?”

“They wanted me to birth a son for the master of the house. He was not a good man. And even if he were, I would not allow a child of mine to be given to a woman who cannot even treat her daughters right. I would not allow that, even if I could birth children.”

“You are infertile?” His brows furrow. “How would you know?”

“I have had many partners in my short days, captain. I am not unknowing when it comes to the act of pleasure,” you explain simply. “But that is diverging from the point. I soon found out after that the master knew of my family’s origin. He told me that a crew of pirates killed my family, that is why I was orphaned at such a young age. I was of higher class once and I was sold to them. I am not merely here to just escape their clutches. I am here to find out where I am from, and who murdered my family.”

“And you believe that you would find it out on this ship?”

No. It would be silly of you to try in the middle of the ocean. This was just your getaway, nothing else was planned. “I just needed to leave.”

Though you explain nothing more, the captain nods slowly. “Alright. You can stay as long as need be,” he holds out his hand. You slowly take it, watching as he lifts it to his lips, soft against your skin. “I am Kim Hongjoong, Captain of the Hiraeth. It is a pleasure to see a true Rose in person. We have much to discuss.”

-

Yunho guided you out of his office soon after that, the captain explaining that he has other matters to attend to and will speak with you later. Just as Yunho shuts the door quietly behind the two of you, another voice speaks up.

“So you are Miss Rose?”

You turn, meeting the eyes of another. His presence only bears the question: how are all of these men handsome? You’ve met only a few of the crew so you doubt that it would spread across the whole ship, but it’s very strange. Not once have you met a more handsome crew of pirates. Most rarely kept themselves as clean as you’ve seen these men. And the one standing in front of you is strikingly beautiful. Blindingly so even in the low light. He holds a lantern between his long fingers, shadows cast against his skin. A long black coat hides his frame, stitches from what you can see silver in color, a longsword resting on his side. His wear is similar to the captain’s, so you can guess immediately that he’s either the first mate, or quartermaster.

“I am,” you start, sneaking a quick look at Yunho. He adjusts himself slightly. Ah, so you were right. “And you are the Quartermaster?”

“Your presumption is correct, miss. Park Seonghwa,” he glances at Yunho. “I will escort her to her quarters. Wooyoung needs your assistance in the kitchen. More mouths to feed this time around.” Yunho bows to him, giving you a brief smile before disappearing down a nearby staircase. The Quartermaster steps to the side, gesturing for you to walk first. He’s quieter than the other two. It isn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite actually. Speaking all day has exhausted you just a bit.

“Your clothing is in disarray,” he points out. “Did you wear those cloths on your feet when you entered our ship?”

“I wore heels,” you murmur. “They were difficult to use while climbing from the orlop, so I’ve kicked them off. Yunho offered me these in exchange, though I hope there’s some way I can clean them before giving it back.”

He nods slowly, “I hope so too. Because those are Yeosang’s handkerchiefs.”

You tense up, stopping in your walk to reach down and loosen the fabrics.

“Wait, there’s no need–”

“If it was Yunho’s I would have continued wearing these until I entered my quarters. But if it is someone else’s, I would not want to offend before I have even met them in person.”

“Yeosang would not mind that you’ve worn them. He’d be angry at Yunho if he were angry at all, not at you,” Seonghwa covers your hand with his, tugging slightly at your fingers. “I assure you, Miss Rose. There’s no need to fret. I would give you my own shoes if that were the case.”

You let go hesitantly, standing back on your feet. He waits for you to adjust yourself, then you continue on your way. "Are you forgotten royalty?"

Seonghwa furrows his brows. "Royalty?"

"You choose your words carefully. Your enunciation is exquisite, your posture hasn't slumped over once since I laid my eyes on you. You speak as if every question I ask you would answer, though that is not so. Even the way you are looking at me now. Your eyes have rarely if ever strayed from mine, only a moment ago to look at my wear. The Quartermasters I have met were not even half as elegant as yourself. So assuming you are royal is not much of a fallacy."

"Your observations are not far from the truth. But as likely as it may seem, no I am not royalty," he opens a door, steps leading down. You enter first, listening as he shuts it behind. "I have learned that in order for us to be respected on the seas, there needs to be a crew member who is willing to – how shall I put this – adjust, to a different crowd. My mannerisms were learned over the course of ten years. I have gotten so accustomed to it that it has become part of me now."

"Then who were you before this you?"

His smile slips. "Pardon me, Miss Rose. But I would rather you did not meet nor know the Seonghwa before the one that stands in front of you now. He was not as kind nor as elegant, as you put it."

He places his palm against the wooden door, pushing it open. The room is quaint as you much expected, though the bed seems rather large for such a small space. You step inside, Seonghwa placing a wick upon the lantern next to the door, lighting up the space. In all honesty, it’s rather big for a ship this size. As if a special guest or the Quartermaster himself, resides here. The sheets folded on a small stool nearby, a leather pouch placed just on top of it.

“It is not much for a lady like yourself,” Seonghwa starts. “And if I may enter briefly, I can show you your clothing.”

You nod and he tilts his head slightly, opening a closet nailed to the opposing wall. Inside hangs slacks and other wear. The fabrics are particularly well-ironed, neatly resting in their spots. He glances back at you, a wary smile on his lips. “This clothing is fit for a mate, not a woman. I am unsure if it will fit your figure well.”

“Are women unable to wear men’s clothes on this ship?” You raise a brow.

He seems a bit flustered at the question. Not as much as Mingi, but you can see the brief crack of his features. “I mean, they are quite loose-fitting. I apologize in advance for being unable to have clothing that would fit you comfortably, but I am sure at the next stop the Captain would not mind if we sought out a tailor.”

“There is no need for that,” you say simply, moving near him. Your fingers brush against the slacks, humming. “I will be off once we arrive at the next port. Planning special trips will be silly if I am not here for long.”

There’s a pause.

“Then that is settled,” he moves back to the doorway. It seems as if he has more left to say, gripping the metal handle of the lantern quite hard. “The other fellows of our crew would like to meet you at dinner tonight, if that is alright with you. Each time the sun sets we all gather in the hall.”

These men, all of them. Their kindness is well-placed but odd in itself. You’re merely a stranger who begged to board this ship, past mostly unknown. Any other crew would force you to stay in your quarters until the next stop, or send you overboard. But each one you’ve met so far has treated you highly, as if you are a welcomed guest. You expected to reside in a closet. Not something this extravagant. Seonghwa seems to take your silence as denial for his offering, nodding quickly.

“A mate will bring you your dinner.”

“Yes, I would like to join if it isn’t burdenful,” you say. A genuine smile graces his features, nodding quickly.

“One of us will be escorting you once it is done, Miss Rose. And thank you,” his fingers brush the bronze knob. “We did need a change around here. Men are so boring.” He closes it, not missing the grin on your lips.

You sigh, turning to the wardrobe that sits idle. Would it be improper to attend dinner with the clothing you have on now? You look down, stains covering the fabric. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. You have not asked Seonghwa where exactly the powder room is on this ship. So you quickly change your clothing into the outfits hanging in your closet. They are quite loose against your body, several sizes too large. You bind them with twine, looking at yourself in the mirror. It is enough for now, but it is fascinating to see yourself this way. You are used to the luxury of the manor. But staring at yourself now, it feels freeing. The master of the house would never recognize you in this clothing. Your fingers brush against the cotton, giving yourself a quick nod. You’ve taken a liking to it.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts. You walk over, opening the door. Expecting Yunho or Seonghwa, you’re quite surprised to see someone new. His mouth opens in shock, brows furrowed.

“They were not jesting. You are truly a woman,” His brow lifts, eyes still on yours. Black locks frame his face, freshly trimmed. His brow has a scar running through it, a strange strip of gray hairs entwined in the black. Unsurprisingly, his beauty matches the others, eyes sharp, steady. He runs his fingers through his locks as you stare, stepping to the side. “Seonghwa told me to guide you to our dining hall. I hope you do not expect anything extravagant.”

“I have no expectations, sir,” you give him a nod, exiting your room. He closes the door, holding out a lock and key to you. It’s knotted to a string and you thank him, resting it against your neck.

“My name is Choi San,” he starts, taking the steps up first. You follow close as he continues. “You can address me casually. Seonghwa told me he hasn’t spoken to you much about everyone else residing on the ship, and I am sure Yunho hasn’t either.”

“Perhaps it was to be sure that I was not to leave or learn too much? I am perplexed that they have even agreed to let me stay until the next dock. Quite strange to trust a stranger.”

San’s lips lift. “But you are not a stranger, Miss Rose.”

You very much enjoy the way he says your name.

“Our Yunho knew of you, as well as our captain. We would not just let a stray onboard. We are known for our ferocity, but we also make sure everyone that steps on this ship we know of. At least somewhat; you cannot quite learn everything about a person unless they speak of it.”

“So they know I was a handmaiden, and an orphan?” Hongjoong questioned you already knowing who you were? Was it a test?

San nods, “They knew of your past as well. In fact, we’ve often traded goods with the master of the house you resided at. Not legally, as you might know. It is odd that you appeared when you did, this morning was our last trade with the man. Captain cut ties.” San holds out his hand, helping you up the last step. You thank him as he continues. “Your former master was not living up to his side of the deal.”

“It is interesting how I never saw your captain. I often shadowed the lady of the house. I would have recognized him if I knew.” And told him off right when you stepped onto this ship.

“He saw you often, Miss Rose. How much I do not know, but it must have been enough for him to allow you to stay. We accept additional members into our crew but not the way you arrived.”

He moves down the deck, you following close behind. “Should I be wary of your mates?”

San laughs, “No. Everyone is amicable enough, some more than others. You will notice once you meet us all.”

He steps into the doorway, holding the door open for you. You duck slightly at the lowered doorway, taking a few steps down into the dining hall, distracting you from your thoughts of the captain. It’s loud and rambunctious, men around you laughing and having a swell time as they eat. Others balanced plates in their hands as they made their way to seats, jostling their friends around. If you listen closely, you could hear music flowing throughout. San guides you to a table closer to another door. You thank him, sliding onto the bench. Most of the table is full, a few of the men you recognize already. Yunho and Mingi are laughing as they eat, deep in a conversation about something a man named Yeosang did? Seonghwa sits beside them, sipping his soup quietly as he listens. The captain is next to him, his space in front of him free of plates or food. A glass of wine rests between his hands, taking slow sips as he watches everyone at the table. You avoid his gaze entirely. There’s a couple of more faces you do not remember seeing, San disappearing into the revolving door.

“I am glad you’ve decided to join us, Miss Rose,” Yunho says, a wide grin stretching his cheeks.

“It would be rude of me to reside in the room you’ve given me while everyone is eating,” you say back. “But thank you. All of you have been kind and welcoming. I found the right ship to take.” And you mean that entirely. It could be a facade but as of now there’s nothing peculiar about it. And the smiles they’ve given you seem anything but fabricated. You adjust yourself in your seat, glancing at the door. “Apologies, but I am not acquainted with your usual habits. Do I enter the kitchen for my own meal?”

Mingi shakes his head, “You are a guest. And I believe San ran in there first to grab yours.”

You’re not spared a chance to protest, the door swinging open with San holding two bowls in his hand. He grins at you, sliding next to you with ease and placing your food in front of you. You look down at the bowl before turning to him.

"Thank you," you say simply. Better not to start out with rejecting each kind thing they do for you. You'd rather that than rudeness. Your gaze moves to the pile of fruit sitting in the middle of the table, shock crossing your features. You haven't tasted fruit in years.

"Did they not treat you well?" Another man speaks up, voice deep enough to hear through the shouts and laughter. His black hair frames his face, wisps against his fair skin. A birthmark kisses his temple. It only makes his face more breathtaking to look at, even your sure confidence breaks for a moment. "You look surprised."

After noticing that a few of the men at the table are waiting for you to speak, you clear your throat. "He never allowed anyone but the main family to have fruits. It was a rarity that we were even allowed in the same room, aside from the kitchen staff. My lady often teased me whenever she ate peaches."

He hums, the sound causing your body to shiver. "How pitiful."

"Indeed," you thank San again, eating a spoonful of the stew. You take a sip, a low moan falling from your lips.

San laughs, blush decorating his cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoy it, Wooyoung would be pleased."

"It isn't wise to make such a sound in front of strangers," Seonghwa whispers, taking a sip of his wine. You can feel blood rush to your own at his suggestion, though you only roll your eyes.

"Are they truly men if they cannot handle themselves for a brief moment?"

"Not when it comes to someone of your beauty."

This time you're speechless.

The kitchen door swinging open saves you from coming up with a response. A man, balancing three bowls in his arms, exits, humming a tune. You assume this is Wooyoung from the apron wrapping around his torso. You stand, his eyes moving to follow the sudden movement. They widen in alarm, stopping. The bowls fall from his hold, spilling to the floor and splattering against your clothing. A low shit escapes his mouth, immediately dropping to his knees.

"I'm so sorry," he says quickly, handing you a towel and bowing quickly.

“If you wanted me to remove my clothing you could have asked nicely,” you quip. Wooyoung’s laugh is boisterous now, cheeks scarlet as he cleans the floor. You reach for a rag on the table, crouching down to help.

“Ah, you needn’t worry about that–"

You wave him off, dipping it into the bucket and scrubbing. “It would be discourteous of me to watch you clean when I am the one who startled you. Please."

"I thought I'd make a better first impression," he admits, the conversations around you rising in volume once they realized the situation was handled. He thanks you again, ringing out his rang in a bucket and continues to wipe. "Instead I only made myself a fool. And soiled your clothing."

"It is but a wash and it'll be all new," you reassure him. "I just never expected to startle a pirate so easily. I'm a bit proud that I was able," you smile, and he matches it with ease. From this brief interaction, you can tell you'll enjoy his company on the ship. Though his natural beauty is not lost on you, his wear is more of what you're used to. Dirty with fingers wiped while cooking, stains from months of cooking. Possibly years. He looks like a human. Your eyes rest on the scars covering his arms briefly.

"Wooyoung is scared of his own shadow," Another man who sat across from you speaks up. "It is unsurprising that he's jumped at your mere presence. I am shocked he is able to poison anyone in the first place."

"Jongho please respect your elders," Wooyoung retorts. You hide your smile as you wipe, too entertained to interrupt the conversation. "I'll have your food poisoned, it's best not to test my patience." He thanks you again as you place the towel into the sullied water, standing up quickly. His hair is similar to San’s, though it’s a deep blond beneath the black hair styled messily on top of his head. You’re quite surprised there’s so many of the pirates with these strange hair colors. You’ve only seen a few with dyed hair, and it was maidens rather than men. His bow matches yours as he disappears into the kitchen again. You move back into your seat next to San, taking another spoonful of stew.

“That was kind,” he points out, head resting against his arm. You take a quick glance, noticing his bowl completely empty. “Perhaps you will fit in well with the rest of us.”

“I am only here shortly,” you note, glancing around the table. The conversation does not seem as loud as it once was, most of the men watching as San and you speak softly. “But thank you for your kind words, Choi San.”

His cheeks flush. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head. Could it be that you said it in a flirty tone, or are these men just easily swooned by simple words? It couldn’t be the latter, oftentimes pirates are involved in quests that require them to ignore the allurement of a temptress. You’ve never considered yourself anything like that, so their interactions with you certainly boosts your ego. Your gaze moves away from him, the only one at the table you’ve haven’t gotten the name for staring back at you. There seems to be a bit of curiosity in his eyes but he does not dare speak up.

“When you are finished, can you meet me in my office?”

Captain Hongjoong speaks from the end of the table, standing up slowly. He holds the glass of wine in his head. His eyes rest on yours, until he sees a quick nod from you. The other crew members bow as he passes them, his boots echoing against the wooden floors as he disappears through the door from whence you came. The chatter continues as before, Mingi and Yunho next to you continuing their argument.

“You were the one who gave Miss Rose his cloths,” Mingi points out. A scowl forms on the man with the pretty birthmark, eyes narrowed as he meets Yunho’s.

“It was you who made my fabrics sullied? I asked of you to bring it so I could sew. Now it has to be cleaned for days on end.”

“There was little choice,” Yunho mumbles sheepishly, gaze glued to the table in front of him. “You would have done the same if she were walking bare across the main deck.”

Oh, so he is Yeosang. Mysteriously he doesn’t meet your eyes with anger, instead the same interest as before. “Perhaps I would have.”

You finish quickly after that, excusing yourself from the table. Seonghwa stands, offering to guide you to his office. Though you’re sure you can figure it out on your own you accept, thanking him. He holds the door open for you as you leave the cafeteria, their laughs and music fading the further you walk away. His hands rest against his back, long coat fluttering in the ocean’s winds. You hold your arms close to your body, the cotton you chose to wear not at all covering your skin. Seonghwa stops for a brief moment, sliding his arms from his sleeves and stepping closer to you. You tense up, until he drapes the coat over your shoulders, buttoning the first loop.

“Ah, this isn’t necessary–”

“You would fall ill if you continued to shiver the way you have been,” he says softly. “I’ve forgotten to ask for spare clothing for you, since you aren’t used to living this way. I will make sure one of our crew brings you a coat, alright?” His smile is light, eyes flicking between yours. “And though I was only teasing while we were eating, I do want to let you know that our ship is safer than many that travel the seas. But there is always a possibility that eyes will do more than just wander,” His jaw is clenched as he speaks, eyes narrowed. “I would kill anyone who ever laid a hand on a woman. I just think that you should be wary, just a bit more. We are still a ship full of law-breaking men, after all.”

He’s right. You’ve been lax for a big part of your life because there was little time for a man to ever be alone with you; your body was stuck by your lady’s side. But now that you’re no longer at the manor, things are different. You know no one. Even the man standing in front of you now, despite his words, could be dangerous.

“You’re right,” you admit, gripping his coat closer to your skin. “It is quite silly to believe anything other than that. Thank you for reminding me. Arriving somewhere new often makes you forget where exactly you are.”

“There is no need to thank me, Miss Rose,” his pink lips hold a small smile. You feel a bit embarrassed meeting his gaze. It cannot be possible for him to be that handsome, you decide. How are you to last on this ship for so long without acting on your very lewd thoughts? You curse at yourself. Learn some self control, Rose, you murmur to yourself.

The two of you stop just outside the Captain’s door. Before you open the door to enter, Seonghwa’s hand covers the knob. His eyes meet yours, a brief flash of worry. You’re not sure what to make of it and do not have the chance to either. He opens the door for you, and you thank him, hesitantly entering the captain’s quarters.

Hongjoong rests at the edge of his table, one leg holding himself up as you sit in the chair farthest from the desk. Even in a position as such he holds power, his free hand holding himself up while the other slowly stirs the red wine in his glass. He lifts it up to his lips, taking a long sip. Gaze never leaves yours. Whether it is a challenge or not you don't back down, ankles crossed as you wait for him to continue.

"You truly do not remember me?" Ah, so he knows that you're aware of him seeing you before.

You shake your head, "Were you that memorable?"

He laughs, brow quirked. "I hope to be. Not many see me walking onshore. Most islands and states want my head. The only reason I visited your former master's residence was to gaze upon you."

"Peculiar," you note aloud.

"Is that all? You consider my words peculiar?"

This time you fill the silence with your laughter. "Would it be anything else? Why would you trade with an untrustworthy man to see a woman that does not even know of your existence aside from the tales that are passed throughout the city? While I lived as a handmaiden, my focus was only to my lady. Not even a man as handsome as yourself pulled my attention away. So yes, I do find it quite peculiar that a captain of your status wasted time and coin on visiting a corrupt man just so that he can gaze upon me briefly. It is not like I would have fallen into bed with you because you've taken a liking to me."

It is only a moment when you realize that you've stunned him. His hand no longer holds the glass delicately. Instead, his fingers grip the stem, jaw tight. You look up to his eyes but there is no change. His head tilts, eyes narrowed. "Most ladies would be delighted to catch the attention of an infamous captain."

"I am not like most ladies. But I am sure you already know that, sir."

A dry laugh leaves his lips, gaze elsewhere. His tongue runs along his bottom lip, teeth briefly biting it before looking back at you. "I do know that very well, my Rose." He lifts himself off of the desk, letting his glass rest on the edge of the spot he vacated. "But now that we've truly become acquainted, you must know that the whole island we have just left is looking for you. Your master was murdered just before this ship sailed, and you've disappeared from the manor at that exact moment. You're now as wanted as we are."

What?

You tense up, standing. "It was not I–!"

"You don't have to proclaim your innocence to me, Rose. The last face he saw was mine when I tore out his heart in front of his woman. She is well aware that you have not involved yourself in his death, but what is she to say? Her husband perished at the hands of a pirate? There would be inquiries as to how he became associated with myself, and their reputation would dwindle into nothing. How convenient it was for you to leave at the perfect time. Remarkable, even."

Your jaw is tight, thoughts scattered. The lady of the house never did anything out of sorts, though she was overall a terrible person. But you were her trusted confidant. Would she really spread this news to protect the household? No matter how bitter the thought seems in your head, she would without any hesitancy. The reason you left was to find more on who killed your father. On a whim. But perhaps you did leave at the perfect time. She would have framed you for her husband’s death either way.

“I will figure this out,” you start. “I will proclaim my innocence so that they will look deeper into it.”

“And you think they are to believe a runaway handmaiden?” His brow lifts. “Even if I were to tell that I committed the crime, I am sure your lady will deny it over and over until her last breath to protect her reputation. They will arrest you right when you place one foot upon their land.”

There’s nothing you can do. Though he was a wretched man, he was powerful. They would have several islands looking for you, checking each dock a ship stops on. Eventually they will find you, and you will be hanged for a crime you did not commit. Your fingers curl into fists, anger swimming through you.

“How did I end up on the same ship as the man who was interested in me? The man who killed him?”

There’s something odd in his features as he looks at you. An impureness resting in his eyes. You haven’t the slightest hesitation that he did everything on purpose to somehow have you ending up standing directly in front of him. You’ve heard from the tales that he is a master manipulator, but seeing him act it out in person drives a bit of fear into your heart. If he could do this on a whim, what else has he done? Pirates aren’t the highest in morality so it is your fault for thinking otherwise. Each man you have met tonight is not free of sin. But something about the way he speaks of it is unlike anything you've ever heard of.

You do not show him this fear, of course. You’d never give anyone that satisfaction.

His eyes are wide, grin striking. “I get anything I want, my Rose. I’ve been waiting for you unbearably, longing to see you stand in front of myself, look at me in my eyes. If you think that I would care about your reputation to commonfolk you are sadly mistaken. As long as I have you, I do not even think of anyone else.”

“You are odd,” you say through clenched teeth. “I do not care how much you desire me. As long as I live, you will never be blessed with my desire. I hope that you ache with longing until the end of your days. You will never have me.”

“My days are quite long, Rose. Even you would eventually fall.”

You grab your bag off the seat behind you, glaring at him. “Even if it were the end of the world and we were the last two standing, I would rather die than involve myself with you.” You leave his office, ignoring the loud laughter as you make your way back to your quarters. Men you come across move out of your way. Perhaps they can feel the anger dripping from you. Either way, you’re thankful none of them stop to ask what’s wrong. Before you walk down the steps, you see Seonghwa. He meets you with sympathy though he says nothing. It is as expected.

Your irritation grows as you make your way down the steps, pulling the key off your neck and opening your door with haste. You hear the quick steps of someone behind you but ignore it, throwing your bag to the floor and removing your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, meeting the eyes of Jongho. He looks confused, brows furrowed as you clench your fist in frustration. Even if you air your grievances, it’s of no use. He is loyal to his captain and you could barely remember his name. Sharing what you think of the man who let you stay aboard would only make matters worse. So instead, you let a quick sentence slip, revealing nothing more.

“He is no doubt a fearsome captain of the seas.”

Jongho’s expression seems to be even more puzzled, but he doesn’t press you for an answer. Instead he watches as you gather up your belongings, shoving them into a bag you found in the closet. “Where will you go? We are in the middle of the sea.”

“Then no one would know of my circumstances. I can do as I please.”

“You will take one of our spare boats and leave? We are far from land, Miss Rose. There is not a doubt in my mind that you will perish in mere hours. The tides are high."

"You are the sailing master, correct?"

He nods.

"Tell the tides to calm down enough for me to live for more than a few."

His lips lift, "I hope you do know that I cannot do such a thing."

"I'm only jesting, Jongho. If only it were that easy to leave," you rest on the edge of the bed, rubbing your hands against your face. "Did all of you know who I was before boarding this ship? Or was it just San, Yunho and the captain?"

"All of the main crew knew of you, but no one knew what you looked like. And I'm sure no one knew that you'd be on board with us. I was quite shocked when I learned of your presence,” he admits, leaning against the doorframe. “The last thought on my mind was you entering the ship. After the death of the master of the house, we all assumed there was nothing else after that.”

“The captain spoke of me prior?” Your brows furrow at the thought. How involved is he with you? His words were odd in the meeting you had with him, but you presumed it was an exaggeration. A way to strike fear into your heart. Nothing true, nothing solid. “That you’re sure of?”

“Is it shocking?” He asks, brow raised. “He spoke to all of us whenever a new crew member came aboard. Sure he said that you may arrive one day, but it was just foolish of us to not take his word for it. Each of us had a brief introduction to the crew before we entered the ship. There was nothing special about it.”

Ah, perhaps you are overthinking. Another person appears just next to Jongho. San, you quickly recognize the grin on his cheeks. He pats Jongho on the shoulders, taking a quick glance around the room.

“Time to switch sailing,” he says softly. Jongho lets out a low groan but bows to you slightly, leaving the two of you alone. You snicker as he stomps up the steps, meeting the eyes of the newcomer. Seonghwa’s words ring in your head, remembering that you are in fact on a ship with complete strangers. You straighten your bag, San’s eyes flicking to your packed things.

“Are you taking a trip into the deep?” He asks, a teasing grin resting on his lips.

“If it were possible, I’d even invite you.”

He laughs, a sweet sound despite the dire situation. His smile slowly fades, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet yours. “You are safe now, Miss Rose. I know that it is a bit overwhelming to be on a ship with many men you haven’t the slightest idea about, but you’re safe. I’m glad that Seonghwa warned you–”

How does he know that?

“–but I will make sure you’re well too. I will try my best.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say softly, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. “But odd, don’t you think? Am I to trust the words of a man I met only hours ago?”

He wiggles his brows. “Soon it will be half a day.”

“San…” you drag his name, rolling your eyes.

His smile widens. “Oh, I do enjoy the way you say my name. But I will say goodnight, there’s much to do.” He bows, holding the knob of your door. His blatant disregard to your inquiry does not fly by you. You stand, meeting him in the doorway. Though they’re not the tallest men you’ve ever seen, standing this close to him forces you to lift your head slightly to meet his gaze. His gaze lingers on your eyes, flicking to your lips briefly. So quick you would not have even noticed if you weren’t so close. “See you tomorrow, my Rose.”

He shuts the door. You suck in a breath, lifting the string from your neck and locking the door behind him.

-

The long days on the ship are eventful, to say the least. Captain introduces you to the rest of the crew. You expected it so it wasn’t surprising. But the way he spoke of you only added to your curiosity. The way his eyes reflected the sea. And even for the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was a flash of red as he spoke. The other main crew members gathered around you. San and you have gotten along well, oftentimes you sat with him while he navigated, speaking of your times on land with your lady. He told you of his past - his family abandoning him because of the birthmark in his hair. It was a silly reason, but they believed he was cursed. Hongjoong found him one day begging for coins in a far away city, and invited him to be on the crew. Many of the main crew had stories like his. In fact, you’re sure they were all abandoned one way or another.

There was one that peaked your interest though. The ship had a variety of strange fellows and groups of friends. You notice quickly that there’s various, small groups of friends. The eight stick by one another, and others are on their own. You wouldn’t have noticed him if he didn’t stare at you. Each meeting you attended, he would sit in the back with his friends. But his gaze always lingered, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You haven’t had the chance to catch him and speak without someone interrupting. But now that you stand at the helm, you see him carrying a sack on his shoulders, disappearing into the storage. You tell Jongho that you’d be right back, quickly following after him.

Just as you take the last step into the room, he grunts, throwing the sack into the corner. He turns around, eyes widening when he sees you standing there. There’s something about him that pushes the fear of being alone with a stranger away. Familiarity, even.

“What are you doing here?” He frowns, giving you his back as he pushes a barrel. You go to assist but he stops, expression dropping. “Captain would ring my neck if you picked anything up.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Entering a storage room with a man you don’t even know the name of isn’t wise, miss,” he says simply, scolding you. “You should be more fearful of what could happen to you–”

“What’s your name?” You interrupt. He freezes, fingers gripping the mesh. “Tell me your name.”

“Not necessary. I do recall you’re leaving the ship, yeah? No need to acquaint myself with you.”

“What is your name, sir?” You insist. He lets go of the sack, a low sigh falling from his lips. “Why aren’t you saying it?”

“Because you will hate me if I do,” he whispers, gaze flicking back to yours. His lip trembles as he looks at you. Shivers trail along your skin as the two of you stare in silence. “You will hate our father.”

You were taken away to an orphanage. You walked into your father dead on the ground, knife wounds covering his body. Running down the hallway, seeing your mother in the exact same position. Blood drained from them. The guard told you it was a pirate attack, and to run. Your young mind was too naive to question it, forced from place to place. Believing that all of your family was dead. Gone forever.

How could he be here, a brother unknown to you, standing just in front of you? A mate on a pirate ship? Your body shakes as he stands to his full height. He looks just like your father just before he died. He moves closer, hands rising to touch you, then falling. Gaze flicking between yours, breaths hitched. Words do not come to mind as you meet his eyes.

“Why did I not know of you?” you whisper, body trembling. “I thought all of the family I knew of was dead.”

A sad laugh falls from his lips, eyes moist. “Our father had an affair with my mother. I eventually found out about a lost sibling of mine, moreso from my relatives who wanted to tell me the truth. They told of a girl named Rose. When you first arrived I thought nothing of it, but as I grew to know you things changed. The story of your mother and father dying horrifically told me the truth. I am sorry that I have not gotten the chance to speak to you sooner. We never knew each other, but now that I do, I’d never leave you in this world on your own, Rose.” His words are sure, eyes resolute. You’ve known of him for merely ten minutes and he has accepted his position as your brother.

“How old are you?” You ask softly.

“Three years older than you. And my name is Jung Subin.”

Your father often left you and your mother alone for extended periods of time, explaining that it was for business. Perhaps on one of those trips, something happened. “How?” You shake your head, questions lingering in your mind. “My whole life I thought I was alone.”

“I was afraid as a small boy when I was told of your existence. I was out of my mind. It…” He rubs his face, brows furrowed. “When I came to after the loss, I was far away from home. Lost. I never traveled that distance without a carriage. An older couple found me and took me in. I cried for my mother and they finally listened after weeks of me pleading. When I arrived back home it was empty. Apparently my mother passed in that short time from a broken heart. Another family was moving into our home. Once overcoming the anger and frustration from our father, I contacted the police but your whereabouts were unknown. For over a decade I yearned to find you, but lost that hope. Seeing you standing at the side of Captain, I could not believe it.” He admits, shaking his head. “And you were too young to remember much, so I presumed that you could not recall our father speaking to you about me, if he ever did. I was just elated that you were alive. Well. You’ve grown up well, my little sister.” his lip lifts, sorrow in his gaze. “I apologize that I was too afraid and ran away. I am sorry for leaving you alone–”

You pull him into your arms and his wrap around you effortlessly, your forms molding into one another’s. Tears roll down your cheeks as you hold him, sobs racking through you. “I thought all of my family was dead. Do you think I’d care about the past? That was so long ago.”

“I left you alone,” he says through trembling breaths.

“You were a child,” you move away, meeting his eyes. “You were scared because of the death of our father, and your mother. I would never blame you for that.”

“There isn’t a need to forgive me–”

You hold his face in your hands, laughing. “I thought I was the only one in our father’s family line left in this world. The greatest gift I could be given is seeing that I have a brother, who is alive. Nothing else matters.”

His laugh is gleeful now, trembles in his body matching yours. “I am glad to see you too, sister.”

After a few minutes of this the two of you pull apart. Without hesitation you hit his arm. He groans, rubbing it.

“That’s for not telling me who you were and staring at me without saying a word. How ludicrous and odd,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “I thought you were just a strange man.”

“Ah, yes. The others told me that I should have spoken to you. I was just afraid that you’d hate me.”

“Hate is the last thought on my mind.”

“But I did not know that,” he adds. “Sejun insisted that I speak to you. I was just gathering the courage to do it, as all.”

“Sejun. A horrid name,” your lips form a scowl, remembering your former lover. The name only brings a bad taste to your mouth. You adored Sejun when you first met him, almost kissed the ground he stumbled upon. But your relationship soon turned sour when he began forcing himself into every aspect of your life. There wasn’t a day that passed where he wouldn’t curse you for what you wore, or scolded you for speaking to another man. None of the encounters were for seduction. But he insisted that they were. The only reason you got away from him, even after the relationship ended, was when your master fired him. It was the best day of your life. “You should recommend your friend to change it.”

“Why?” His brows furrow. “I thought you loved Sejun.”

“What did you say?” Confusion coats your features. It couldn’t be possible–

“He told me that the two of you were together but were forced apart–”

“Sejun? The Sejun you know is Lim Sejun?”

He slowly nods. Your fingers curl into fists as you turn on your heels, pace quickened. You hear the stomps of your brother behind you. He touches your arm but you pull from his hold, glaring at him when your gazes meet. It isn’t his fault, no, but your fury cannot help but rise. “Do not touch me, Subin.”

“What’s happening? What did he do?”

“What’s going on?” The two of you turn, facing a curious Yeosang. His arms are crossed against his chest, flicking to Subin. “Why were you alone with Rose? Have you touched her?”

Subin coughs at the suggestion. Well, it’s more like a gag as you pat his back, rolling your eyes at his exaggeration. You shake your head at Yeosang. “It is nothing like that. Would you be a darling and inform me of Sejun’s quarters?”

Yeosang only seems to sink into more confusion, “Is there something the matter?”

“Just behind the main steps,” Mingi says just behind him, a wide grin on his lips. “Are you going to kill him?”

“Pull him limb from limb,” you respond, stepping around the small group of men gathered around you. Mingi grins in pure glee, following behind you excitedly. You assume the other two are as well, small talk between them as they try to decipher what exactly is happening. The door is wide open as you take a step inside. Your eyes meet the one man you’ve hated for years. His widen, taking a slight step back as you move closer. He still looks the same, though his torso is covered in scars and other markings. More than likely it’s from this life of his now. But you pay it no mind, the allure of his nakedness long gone from your brain. Without another word, your fist meets his jaw. He stumbles back, head hitting the wall as he falls to the floor. You stand over him, your anger only rising as you stare.

“Rose?” he says.

“How dare you tell my brother we are still lovers? You are a sick man!” you screech, lifting your arm back again to hit him. Another wraps around you, pulling you away from Sejun. You yell, kicking and twisting to remove yourself from whoever’s hold it is. “Let me go!”

“I need to know what happened, Rose. You cannot just walk around injuring my men,” Seonghwa’s voice is soft in your ear. You expected someone else, or even your brother to be pulling you away. But not the Quartermaster. You stop resisting, letting him pull you from the room. Subin stays down there with Mingi and Yeosang as Seonghwa leads you up the steps.

“You can let go, I’m fine,” you insist, but he doesn’t respond. He takes you farther and farther away from Sejun’s room, at the front of the ship. His hold loosens, letting your shoes touch the wood. You take deep breaths, rubbing your hands over your face as you think through what you’ve just done. It was unladylike, it was inappropriate. But Sejun often brings those emotions out of you. You close your eyes, pushing the anger back further so that you can gather yourself. Seeing him again…

“Tell me what’s happening,” Seonghwa breaks the silence. He stands in front of your path. “Rose, I cannot solve it if it’s not discussed.”

“He…” you grip the railing, giving him your back as you stare into the endless sea. “He is one of the most undistinguished men I’ve ever met. He reeks of overachievement and bitterness. He yearned for everything he’s never been, or never will be. I swore to him that if I ever saw him again I’d kill him. It seems that I have not followed through on my promise. Though it does not matter, he just needs to bleed and I’ll be fine with it.”

“Why? What has he done, what is he to you?”

You tense up at the new voice, looking back. Captain Hongjoong stands there, a cigar between his lips as he takes a drag, leaning against the railing. Seonghwa is near him, concern in his eyes. “You cannot go around killing my men without reason. Even if you are my Rose.”

The last person other than Sejun you never want to see again stands near you. Hongjoong hasn’t bothered you after his strange introduction of your arrival on the ship. You are not naïve enough to believe that was the end of it. But at this very moment, you do not need his input.

“I am not yours,” you grip the wood tightly. “It is things like that which made me hate Sejun. We were lovers while I lived with my lady,” you say. Hongjoong’s expression does not change, but Seonghwa’s does, frowning at the new information. “I loved him at one point in my life.”

“Then he broke your heart?” Hongjoong suggests.

“Far from it,” you retort, anger dripping from your words. “I could not rid of him. Our relations were supposed to be brief. We used each other for a release, but I fell for him. It was silly of me, I was too young and in love to care. His possessiveness grew ugly. I could not spend a moment alone without him appearing. He accused me of heinous acts, even when we were no longer together. In one of our arguments–” You lift up your blouse. Both men avert their eyes, much to your surprise. “Look at what he has done to me, and you can see why I despise his mere presence.”

You appreciate their reluctance, Hongjoong’s eyes meeting your skin first. Jagged scars line the curves of your stomach. Much of it is random, some covering others. Seonghwa’s expression drops when he sees it. Utter devastation coats his eyes. Enough so that you let the fabric fall over your skin, swallowing slowly. “I considered it a mistake. He pushed me too hard, the glasses fell and my body crumbled into it. I thought I would have died that night, but he brought me to a clinic and they did what they could. There are parts where I still have no feeling. I forgave him. But then it happened again. That time he threw a broken glass in my direction.” You tilt your head up, a large scar running along the side of your neck. “I died but was brought back to life by the manor’s surgeon. I swore to him after that night that I would kill him the way he killed me if I were to ever see him again. Unfortunately the opportunity was pulled from me.”

Hongjoong turns on his heels, disappearing into the night. You watch his figure go down the steps of where you just left, a small sigh falling from your lips. Seonghwa still stands there, hands curled into fists. Though you’ve learned to tolerate the feelings thinking of it does to you, he’s never heard it before. You take a step closer to him, your smaller hand wrapping around his fists. He relaxes slightly, moist eyes meeting yours. Without another word you lift one of your hands, thumb brushing against his skin, wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m no longer harmed. It was long ago.”

“You died?” Seonghwa whispers. “He killed you?”

“Correct,” your lip tilts. “If it weren’t for my savior, I would never have met any of you. But you should not cry, Seonghwa. For I have long moved on from it. Well, enough so.” No need to lie to yourself. Anger like that does not appear from nowhere. “Weeping when I am fine now is not necessary.”

“You died, Rose,” he says. He moves his hand from yours, cupping your face. His hold is soft, barely pressing against your skin. You’ve learned from your brief time on the ship that Seonghwa’s care for you is unlike anyone else’s. It’s as if he’s known you for quite a while. As if him being this empathetic to your situation should not be surprising. “Please allow me to weep. There was a world without you for the briefest moment.” His thumb traces the scar on your neck, pain circling his gaze.

“Your words are too warm for someone you’ve known for a moment that brief.” Though you tease, your words ring true. How could he almost mourn for a death he was no witness to? To a loss he has never known?

His thumbs rub your cheeks softly, tears falling and falling. His devastated expression only makes your own water. “Perhaps it is the fear of it. You speak of it with such great nonchalance to the point that it terrifies me. A length of time knowing someone does not define how I would react if you were gone.”

“You are too kind to be a pirate,” you laugh through your own tears, shaking your head. “Though I cannot turn back time, it all has led me here. With you all, seeing my brother. Though the past that has haunted me has finally caught up, I have you all.” You let go of his face and he reluctantly lets go of yours. “I do not know how to feel, knowing that you care for me so. But I think it makes me happy. Thank you, for being kind to me,” you whisper.

“It is the easiest thing in the world, Rose. But you are welcome.”

A loud thump interrupts your moment. You turn, seeing the others slowly gathering just a few meters away from you. Sejun coughs up blood, face indistinguishable from mere moments ago. You hold your breath when your eyes meet his. His cheeks are swollen, the tanned skin of his covered in crimson. Some of the wounds are already beginning to stab over a bit as he continues to choke on his own blood. Seonghwa stands near you, eyes moving to Hongjoong’s.

“Do what you must to him,” Hongjoong says, stepping away from Sejun. You meet the eyes of your brother standing just behind him. Blood coats his own shirt, knuckles cut. Has he done this? It’s hard to point out who, many of the men you’ve come to know all covered with some sort of blood. You move closer to Sejun, anger gone from your body. You crouch, your finger lifting his chin so that he can meet your eyes.

He looks pitiful like this. When years ago you were afraid of him, afraid of ever defying his words. Believed that each word of his rang true, that he adored you, loved you. Here you are, covered in the scars he created, staring at a man that looks as defeated as you once felt. Words are lost as you look at him. The confidence that you’ve grown while in his absence dwindles when you meet his eyes. How, after all these years, do you still tremble in fear underneath his gaze? It is not fair.

You push back the feelings, letting your hand drop from his chin. "Do you not have remorse?"

"Rose–"

"You speak to my brother and tell him that we left each other's side because of some twisted fate. How dare you lie on my name so blatantly? We were never one, Sejun. My love for you was molded from fear and inexperience. I never truly loved you. And seeing you like this only makes me feel sorry for you."

Perhaps it is in the moment that he does not give the usual scowl of his surrounded by the others. You half expected it knowing how he once was. And now you know, still is. Tall tales to a brother you have never heard of. Your gaze moves to said brother, Subin's fists clenched as he looks down at the man he considered a friend. You would have never expected something like this. But perhaps life is just filled with disappointments.

You stand, the anger receding just as quick as it appeared. Seonghwa places his hand lightly on yours, and you meet his eyes. Though he says nothing, there seems to be an apology within them. It's none his fault, not even Hongjoong's. But you only nod, afraid that if you speak a word to him you'll fall apart. Hongjoong glances at you, before gripping the color of Sejun’s shirt, dragging him against the wood and to the edge of the ship's railing. Though Hongjoong seems to be a sturdy man, you're a bit perplexed on how he could move him with such ease. Wooyoung runs after him.

The rest follow, San and surprisingly Yeosang staying by your side. You turn away from the gathering, afraid of what they may do to Sejun. Yeosang meets your eyes, a light smile on his lips. You see blood stains on his blouse but he does not bring attention to it, holding out his hand. The way yours trembles as it slowly cups his forces back your tears. You let him guide you through the ship, passing by your own room in favor of his. San does not follow and you're not quite sure why, Yeosang keeping his door ajar as he walks you inside. Whether if it's for comfort on your part you're ever thankful. He's spoken to you a few times, but not enough or as close as San has.

You sink your face into your hands, thoughts scattered. Sejun is your brother's friend. Sejun might die on this ship tonight because you could not control your emotions. You might have killed someone. Your fingers dig into your hair. A thought crosses your mind to pull it from its roots. But you can still feel the warm presence of Yeosang, his quietness calming in the chaos.

"I've ruined a life," you say softly.

"If we knew of his deeds his life would have been ruined anyway."

"How could you trust my words with such ease? I could have been lying to get a man I hated off the ship. Why are you believing me?"

"Are you asking us not to?" His brow quirks, head tilted. "You are part of our crew, Rose. We take your words with heavy consideration just like any others. Sejun harassed you, sullied your name. If we were to allow that, we would not be a wise crew."

"Even if I am a woman."

"Your womanhood does not matter. You could have proclaimed the same as a man and he would still be dealt with as he is now. We saw your eyes, Rose," he doesn't dare move closer to you at this moment, only keeping your gaze steady with his. "We saw the fear in them when you saw Sejun. When you mentioned him. How are we to believe it is not real if you look as if you were in complete and utter anguish? Were we to pretend we did not see?"

His words bring the horrendous tears to your eyes, fingers digging into your slacks as your body trembles. The familiar wave of anxiousness and hurt slowly encases you. Without hesitation Yeosang crouches down in front of you, his hand placed lightly on yours covering your knee. He moves it slowly, placing it just above his heart.

"Breathe in and out with me, Rose. Listen to the beat of my heart, the slowness of my breaths. It's okay, you're safe."

You concentrate on the sound of his voice, gasping for air. After a few moments you settle down enough to meet his eyes, welcome the warmth that looks back at you. You close yours for a moment, feeling his heartbeat underneath your fingertips.

"You are too kind, Yeosang," you whisper. "Comforting a woman you barely know."

“You say that continuously, you know,” Yeosang keeps his hand on yours, brow quirked. “Often, over and over. Mentioning you are a woman, mentioning that we are strangers to you. Do you want us to remain as such? Always separate, unwilling to open yourself up. Are we to continue to be aboard this ship without knowing one thing about you?”

If you could laugh through your shaky breaths, you would. Instead though, you close your eyes. “Peaches.”

“Hm?”

“I love peaches,” you continue, eyes flicking to him. “When I glimpsed them in front of me while dining on my first night here, it reminded me of my time as a little girl. My mother used to hand me peach slices during the summertime while I cooled myself down. I have not let one touch my lips since she passed. It was… I don’t know, a reminder of what I lost. So when I saw them sitting in that bowl, everything was thrown back to me.”

You move your hand from under his. His eyes widen as he begins to apologize, until you place it against his cheek. Your thumb rubs against his temple, tracing the outline of his birthmark. His eyes flutter at your touch. “You sat on the other side of that bowl and said you felt pity for me. Not one being on this Earth since I have lived has ever said that to me. It made me– warm. Just like those summer nights.”

You move your face closer to his, breaths paused as you’re merely a word away from pressing your lips against his. You stare into his eyes, searching for any hesitance. Instead, they are darkened. Ravenous. His hands rest on either side of the end of the bed, caging you in his hold. You glance to the side, seeing how his nails dig into the mattress.

“This is not wise, to involve myself with you,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his cheek. “I should not want you so desperately.”

“Saying that merely inches from my lips only makes my desire rise,” his voice is deeper, leaning forward as you lean back. Your head drops to his mattress lightly, watching as he climbs above you, dark locks framing his face. His chest rises and falls quickly, leaning forward. Just as you close your eyes to receive him, you feel the brush of his lips against your ear. “I want to ravish you, Rose. Feel you tight against me, holding me with desperation as I make love to you. But,” he moves off of you, a small, polite smile on his lips. Completely different from the man whispering in your ear seconds prior. “I am a gentleman. And I will not sully you on a night like this. Please, rest well. I will return in the morning to guide you to breakfast.”

Yeosang does not allow you to say even a letter in response, shutting the door quietly behind him and walking down the hallway. You touch your cheeks, warmth coating them as you try to catch your breath. You could only laugh, biting your lip as you gaze out the small window in his room. Though there is a bit of disappointment from being rejected, he did it with such class that you could only admire it.

“What a wondrous man,” you murmur.

-

Time passes by somewhat slowly. You never see Sejun again with great thanks, though you are afraid of what they've done to him. None of the men you've come to know well utter a word, most avoiding the subject completely. It worries you that they've killed him. You even took a walk down to the cells to see if he was there but it was of no use. There are few things that could have happened: they're either hiding him from your presence, or his body is lost in the blue sea. The latter makes your stomach turn. Everyone does not let your thoughts linger on it too much. You spend much needed time with your brother when he has any spare left for you, and often have deep talks with the others. But something has been tugging at your heart, prickling at your skin.

Feelings are difficult to navigate. Many of your own mixed into a spiral of confusion. You've grown to care for each of the main crew in different ways, but much of it far from innocent. In the beginning you blamed your own flirtatious and sultry nature on the way they've been interacting with you. Fingers brushed against your skin, touches lingering here and there. Hell (Pardon your language), that brief moment with Yeosang still lingers in your mind. And it is not like he makes it any better, darkened eyes often meeting yours as you speak to another, knowing smile on his lips when you bring someone to a fit of laughter. The dark nights of you with him in his bed, fingers on your bare skin, within you. There's no jealousy, no. Just something else you cannot distinguish from a look.

You stare at your reflection in a quieter room, humming softly as you meet your eyes. Your skin has darkened from the burning sun, sun spots beginning to decorate your skin from the exposure. You run your fingers along the new dress San gifted you, eyes linger on the long slit that almost meets your right hip. It's quite scandalous to wear on a ship full of yearning men. You'd more than likely never wear it with any of them around, in fear that your underlying desires will get the best of you. You haven't forgotten your main mission, finding the person who killed your parents, your family. But being around the eight with these complicated feelings only seems to make you lose your thought.

The door to the room swings open without a second thought, your eyes moving to the reflection of whoever entered. Wooyoung hums as he kicks the door closed, supplies and materials tucked beneath his pits. After a moment his eyes move around the room, meeting yours in your reflection. Panic and red rushes to his skin, supplies forgotten as they all scatter to the floor. You can only laugh at his usual clumsiness, his frantic expression as he gathers his things. You stay in your spot, watching him place it where it belongs.

"I am terribly sorry for interrupting you," he says quickly, cheeks still crimson.

You wave him off, rubbing your hands over the fabric that rests against your skin. "Do you think this fits my figure well, Woo?" The first time you said the nickname he faltered and stumbled over his words. And as you look at him now, it still seems to be the same.

“Of course, you’ve always been pretty, Rose,” Wooyoung stands just behind you. His hair is wispy against his cheeks, skin covered in grease marks from working in the orlop. His wear is more used, holes lining the seams. He steps closer as you gaze at him, approaching hesitantly. He’s always been reserved in his affections of you, as if you’d crumble beneath his touch if he dared approach you. Even now, your eyes wander to his, his deep brown ones flicking away from your gaze. A light pink coats his tanned cheeks, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you rested your eyes on me? It doesn’t seem like you can, my dear Wooyoung,” your tone is light, a smile resting on your lips as you stare at his reflection. “Is the dress that I wear dreadful? What a pity,” you pout, looking away for a brief moment to stare at your figure. "San would be disappointed."

Your words pull him out of his embarrassment, concerned eyes widening as he moves closer. “Rose, you could never be anything but pretty. I am just… it feels like I am undeserving of your presence. I can call one of the others inside to assure you of your beauty–“

“Now why would I desire to see one of them when I am with you?”

“Your words make me faint,” he admits, anxious laughter adorning his words. “It's because they’re much bolder than I. They can recite poetry and I can only express to you that you will never be ugly.”

His small speech leaves you at a pause. You’ve often pondered what he thought of you. Despite how garrulous he often was, Wooyoung never told you what he felt about you. It was sensible enough to assume that he adored your company from what he did express, but seeing him now flounder over his actions made him all the more charming.

Still, you laugh a bit. His cheeks flushed a deeper crimson from the reflection, guilt coursing through you for even making the sound.

“Can you come closer?” You say, turning around to look at him. He’s a bit fidgety in his approach, tensioning up when your hand touches his cheek. His eyes look at you. Wooyoung carries himself as if he isn’t one of the most alluring men you’ve come to know. Some semblance of yourself is glad he doesn’t know. He could use your weakness to him with ease and you would fall to your knees. Between all of the confidence you’ve built upon yourself, you would do anything for the eight men you’ve come to know. Even the captain you've often avoided.

Your thumb brushes against his high cheek, kissing the mole beneath his eye. His eyes flick to the mirror before looking at you, wonder within them. It was a bold move to let your lips touch his skin. You're all but glad that he didn't take it in a negative way. Even with all his affection toward you, there's a chance you could have misstepped.

“I’m filthy. You shouldn’t stain your pretty hands with me.”

“Wooyoung,” your smile slowly grows. “You’ve stained much more than my hands.”

Something odd resides in his gaze once you utter the words. Fear courses through you as he stares at you, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. But instead, he places his hands on either side of your face. There’s a brief hesitation as he leans down. As if he is waiting for you to pull away. But you don’t, won’t and he smiles, eyes crinkling.

“You are not pulling away,” he states curiously. “A bit odd, no?”

“A handsome man is holding my face in his hands and you ask me why I am not anything but elated at the fact?” You laugh lightly, his matching yours. Without another word he pulls you against him, chapped lips moving against yours with ease. You gasp into his mouth, feeling the touch of his hands move from your face. The two of you stumble back, hitting the wall in the process. He pulls away to apologize but you only hush him with another press of your lips.

There’s a light knock on the door just as his hand slips past your hips. You pull away from him in an instant, eyes on whoever just entered. Yunho stands there, brow raised as he leans against the doorframe. Though you don’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes you can see from the side that his cheeks are burning, head tilted down. You cannot help but giggle at the obscenity of it all, turning around and adjusting your dress in the mirror. Yunho watches you as you fix your hair and dress, turning back to look at him.

“Though I have no issue with activities outside of main work, leaving the door ajar for everyone to witness is very rude, no?” His eyes flick to Wooyoung, glancing at the supplies he dropped to the floor. “Ah, what a mess.”

“Hyung–"

Yunho lifts his hand, stopping him just before he goes on a tirade. “I will not scold you, just clean after yourself. Please. And Rose,” he meets your gaze this time. You assumed that it would be harsh, condemnatory. Instead it’s almost amused, lips frowning. “Interrupting our duties is not wise.”

“I asked of you to position me for a job, but you insisted that I do not. What am I to do with all of this time on the open ocean? Sit and fold my hands like a good little girl?” You tilt your head, pout forming on your lips. You’re only teasing of course, not noticing how Yunho’s eyes flick to the curve of your lips, fists tightening against his will. He lets out a breath, shaking his head.

“Captain wants to see you.”

This time there’s true disdain in your expression. You glance back at Wooyoung, his head still hung in shame. Taking a quick glance at Yunho, now joined with Seonghwa, you move quickly, pressing your lips against Wooyoung’s cheeks and disappearing out the door.

“You will be the end of him,” Seonghwa says, moving just as quickly next to you, Yunho left alone with the flustered Wooyoung. “I doubt he’ll have a restful night.”

“And he will be the end of me,” you shrug. You try to appear innocent, but a grin stretches across your cheeks. “I do enjoy his presence. He has kept me up more nights than he realizes.” And those words are true. Oftentimes you stir in your room, thoughts filled with the men aboard. Many not so innocent. It has weighed on you, knowing that in this brief time you’ve fallen for each of them one way or another. And it would be selfish of you to enjoy every single one. Even the man who follows you now. Once these thoughts begin to bubble to the surface, the potential of looking into their eyes and them seeing how you feel terrifies you.

“What do you suggest?”

“Hm?”

Seonghwa smiles, “Were you so entrapped in that mind of yours? I was asking: What do you suggest we give you while you’re with us? It cannot be too difficult because our captain will disagree with just a flick of his hand. But I do not want you to be riddled with boredom for the duration of your stay.”

You could truly care less what the captain wants for you to do, but you cannot outwardly disagree. Though you’re sure each mate on board knows of your disdain towards the man. Seonghwa seems to pick up on it now, nudging your arm slightly.

“An attempt at trying to be cordial will do you wonders,” he teases. “If you cannot come up with anything do not worry, I’ll convince him of something.”

“Thank you, truly, Seonghwa,” you say.

“Of course,” he waves you off, taking a slight step in front of you just before entering Hongjoong’s office. A quick knock on the door and he opens it, stepping to the side for you to enter. You wish that he could stay and help you deal with Hongjoong yourself, but of course you have no such luck. Seonghwa shuts the door behind you.

You don’t bother to sit on the chair just across from his desk, watching as he writes away. And he does not seem to acknowledge you either, continuing. You take the chance to walk around his office, standing just in front of his bookshelf. Several stories you recognize line the shelves, one in particular catching your eye. It’s old, dust covering the jacket. But you can see the letters written in a language unknown to you. You dare not touch it. Taking that chance and putting yourself in a bad position with the captain of the ship is not ideal. Even if you dislike him as much as you do.

“Anything that is mine is yours,” his voice drifts up just behind you, causing you to tense. His arm reaches over your body, plucking the book off the shelf. You slowly turn around as he moves back to his desk, flipping through the page.

“This ship then?” You raise your brow.

He looks at you. “Anything that you want, I will give it to you. If you so desire this ship of mine, so be it.”

You expected some sort of joke at the end, any indication that he is only teasing you. But his expression remains firm, eyes steady. Your brows furrow as you take it in, puzzled. “You are not serious?”

“Deadly, my Rose,” he flips to another page, humming softly. “I have not touched this book in ages. Interesting that it would catch your attention.”

Though you are still not over his words, you let him stir the conversation away. “It’s rare to see a man with many books like those on his shelf. Romance? Comedy? Many only interest themselves in that to woo their desired partner,” you note, eyes on many books written by women. “It piqued my interest since I could not fathom someone like you picking up a book.”

“Do you hate sailors that much?” he asks, chuckling, “Or it is just I?”

You let out a dry laugh. “I can intermingle with sailors just fine.”

“Then it is I, then,” he says, shrugging. “I cannot blame you. I’ve already confessed that I hunger for you severely and that may have alarmed you, but it is my true feelings. I will wait however long—”

“And I have said countless times that nothing will happen, Hongjoong,” you quip. Your annoyance slowly dissipates, rubbing your temple as you speak your next words. “But I must say, thank you. I did not want Sejun to be punished by any of you, but I thank you for listening to my words when I spoke them. And not questioning anything that I told you.”

“Why would I?” His brows furrow. “You are part of my crew.”

“I am temporarily part of it as I have said before,” you note. “But we are moving far from the point. Why have you asked Seonghwa to bring me to your quarters? Is there anything you need from me?”

He flips to the next page in his book, “Yes. It is actually related to the book I hold.” He closes it shut, facing the cover to you. You take a step closer, eyes flicking over the illustration. It is a man being held by a woman, crimson coating her pale neck, pooling beneath the both of them. Her face is dipped into the curve of his neck, hands gripping his body as she holds him tightly. It is a disturbing image, makes you feel ill just gazing upon it.

“Why would you read such a thing?” You say, eyes shifting to him. He does not say much, gaze glazing over yours, blinking slowly. Without another word, he places it to the side, sitting on the edge of his desk. It brings his height lower than your own, but even with the shift he still holds his power. You take a slight step back, watching as he tracks your movements.

“Have you ever heard of the term jiāngshī?”

“A myth passed down to children so that they wouldn’t leave their homes at night? Yes, I’ve heard of such things. The lady of the house used it to frighten her children into obedience. But I am sure everyone has heard of that tale.”

“Do you believe for them to be true?” His tone is serious, unusually so. You have not seen anyone this deeply concerned about folklore that only the young believe. But the way he speaks of it makes you unsure of your next response.

“Why would I? Do you believe in it?”

His law is low, fingers dragging through his blond hair. “If you asked me several thousand years ago I would have called you mad. Unfortunately, it is hard not to believe in something you were forced to become.”

  “You speak as if you’ve lived during that time,” your eyes roll, shaking your head. “Perhaps those tales have gotten to you.”

“Perhaps,” he moves close to you, hand slipping to your side. You widen your eyes at the closeness, until he grabs the knife on your side, taking it in his hands. He balances it between his fingers, humming. “Or perhaps it is because I am one of them.”

Oh. Oh no. You were only jesting, but he does believe he is this otherworldly being. Before you could say anything else, he raises your silver knife, stabbing it into his neck. You scream, reaching for his body just as he falls to his knees. No, no…

“What have you done, Hongjoong?” you cry, blood covering your fingers as you desperately try to figure out what to do. There isn’t enough time to run and tell someone. Your anger for him runs deep, but you care about him. Will the others think the same as his dead body lies to the wooden floor, neck punctured by your own blade? “Why would you do this, you fool?” You grip his blouse, pulling him closer to you, letting him rest on your dress-covered legs. He only smiles at you, blood spilling from his lips as he holds you close. His fingers reach up to grip the knife, slowly sliding it from his neck.

You place your hand on his, trying to stop him, but he pushes against your grip, pulling it out slowly. The cabin door swings open just as he pulls it out all the way. Yeosang stands there, fear in his eyes as he takes in the scene. Once his gaze lays on Hongjoong he… sighs in relief.

Relief?

You look back down at Hongjoong, watching as the wound in his neck slowly mends together, blood stopping as it closes. It completely disappears from your sight as he wipes his lips, groaning once he lifts himself off of you. You’re at a loss for words, unable to move from your spot. He stands, dusting off his pants.

“No need to stand there, Yeosang. You can go back to your duties,” Hongjoong waves him off. He stares at your frozen figure, swallowing slowly before he closes the door just behind him. Hongjoong grabs the cloth sitting on his desk, wiping off your blade just as he begins to speak.

“We are often referred to as leeches, freeloaders, parasites,” he narrows his eyes at the memories, harshly wiping the metal. “But we are none of the sort. We can control ourselves, Rose. It is not hard to do so.” Your eyes cannot move away from the blood on your hands, soaking your dress, dripping to the floor. “I know this is a lot to take in—”

You hear his foot take a closer step, tensing up at the sound. “Do not come near me,” you whisper, frantically wiping your hands on your dress and standing. This must be Hell. You must have died, forced to stay on this ship. There is nothing that comes to mind that makes you believe this is real. “Let me off this ship, now.”

“Where will you go?” He asks softly. Your head moves to meet his gaze, gasping once you see his eyes. They’re darker now, a deep burgundy. You stumble back, almost losing your footing. “You are afraid.” He states.

“Afraid? I am wholly petrified, Hongjoong. Because I am trying to put my mind at ease, understand what is happening. I… you… this has to be witticism. None of those tales were ever real. It was a fable passed down in fear of the dark. The animals that roamed at night. There is no such thing as jiāngshī.”

Hongjoong shrugs, hand outstretched to give you your blade back. You do not dare to move any closer to the man. All you have left is distance. He sighs, placing your weapon on his desk. He opens the closet just behind it, taking out a large jug. You look as he pours the thick, red liquid into the glass. The metal smell lingers in the air. He lifts his wine glass, taking slow sips. You hold your hand over your mouth, the sight unbelievable. He’s been drinking that the entire time you’ve been on this ship. In the beginning you presumed it was wine, but under these circumstances you cannot help but believe otherwise.

He’s convinced you enough that he is a jiāngshī. You lean forward for your blade, his wrist curling around yours just as you reach for it. You almost let out another scream of terror, until his piercing gaze meets yours.

“Let me go,” you plead, tears falling down your cheeks.

His expression breaks, sorrow filling his gaze. “I do not want you afraid of me, my dear Rose. Please do not be afraid. I will never hurt you.”

“Why show me this? What is your purpose?”

“As I have told you, I want you. And that begins with you being able to trust me. I greatly long for you to. Showing you my true self is one of many steps.”

“And then?” you say. “Did you expect me to be elated at that fact? Unafraid of you once you’ve shown me? You are…” The word monster is yearning to spill from your lips, but you force it back. Holding your breath as you do so. Hongjoong seems to know it as well, his hold loosening. You pull back immediately, gripping the handle of your blade as you move to the exit. “I will not stay here, Hongjoong.”

“The others want it too.”

You stop moving. “What?”

He turns to you, lips stained with the blood he swallowed. “They want to be like me, my Rose. They want me to turn them into jiāngshī.”

“You lie.” Why would anyone want to become something other than human? “Why?”

“You directly accuse me of being a monster and now you ask why anyone would want this?” He laughs dryly, shaking his head. “There are many curses to being this: forced to live by the blood of men, never to have children of my own. But I live an endless life. I am given freedom. I am cursed to never die but it is a blessing. I walk amongst the masses without any second glance. No one knows what I am.”

“There are more of you?”

He nods slowly, “I am the first. But centuries prior, I grew lonely. Wanting others to be with me. And those beings are what the stories tell of, not I.”

Bile sits in the back of your throat. “Then why would they agree?” Though you do not say their names, there could only be few. “Who would give up life for an endless, tortuous existence?"

“Yunho,” he starts, eyes resting on yours. “Wooyoung. Mingi.”

“Stop–"

“Jongho. Seonghwa. San.”

Your heart is pained at the names, the men you've grown to know and care for. But one in particular, one you would have hated to hear, he does not say.

“Yeosang?” You ask softly, waiting for the inevitable hurt.

“No,” he shrugs. “He was the only one who disagreed with the plan. But we only have two weeks, my Rose. Until they will be as I am. I hoped that you would join, but it seems to not be the case.” A pout lines his lips as he stares. “What a shame. We could have spent the end of our days with you."

"Our days are supposed to end in a few decades, Hongjoong. Not an eternity."

There must be a way to convince the others. Stop them from ruining their lives in such a way. But would it even work? Would your attempt only be fruitless? If they gazed upon Hongjoong and saw something desirable, is there any way to convince them otherwise? His blood still stains your fingers, deep in the fabric that San gifted you. You move closer to the door, shaking your head. They could spend the remaining days seeking for you to join them, but you'd never.

Not in a lifetime.

Just as you begin to turn, the door behind you swings open. You meet the eyes of Jongho, expression dropping once he sees your gown. You push past him, barely giving the men on the deck a glance as you make your way to the front. Air. That is what you need. A clear mind.

You take a bucket as you walk, water splashing against the wooden boards. You rest near the edge, almost throwing yourself against the boards. The way your body trembles, silent cries encasing your frame. You're brave, you're tough. This should not affect you the way it does. Seeing their faces in your mind, flashing one by one. Yunho with his neverending glee, eyes filled with happiness. Jongho with his quiet but sure nature. Seonghwa and his kindness. Mingi and his humor, his great love. Wooyoung and his shyness, underneath it being truth, sureness. San and his determination, his loud love. Humans.

Humanity. How could they give up something so precious? A life is not something easy to come by. You bring the bucket closer. With the small cup inside, you slowly pour the water over your hands, ridding yourself of the nearly black blood. You should have known then. His body was covered in this strange color. Nothing like human blood, too dark to even be considered red. You scrub harshly, sucking in breaths. Why would it not go away with ease? Why must you struggle against this? Why does it hurt so much?

"Jongho was worried."

You jump at the voice, turning back around. Mingi stands there, almost shrunken in on himself as he looks at you. Warmth coats his cheeks, possibility due to the low temperature of the night. You cannot look at him without seeing Hongjoong, hearing his words. They want to be like me, my Rose.

"Please go," you whisper. "You will not want to hear my next words if I continue."

"Then just listen to mine, please darling." His endearment. He says it with such ease, heart. He takes your not-response as an invitation to move forward. In the beginning he keeps you company as you scrub. The tears continue to roll, even more so as he sits there with you. From the corner of your eye he takes a handkerchief from his pocket, reaching out to touch your hand. You flinch.

"I will not do anything you would not like, Rose. Tell me to go and I will."

You look at him. Never in your mind would you want him to leave. You let him take your hand, slowly wipe your skin. He's doing a better cleaning job than your smearing, humming as he does so.

"We've all suffered in some way," he starts, dipping the rag again. "That is why we have decided to join the crew. Our lives were empty. Mine was empty. I lost everyone I've ever known to a fire. I had nothing but the clothing and shoes on my feet. I begged for years until Hongjoong saw me one day and placed me on his crew. No one saw me the way he did. So when he told me of his nature, I could not be afraid. I love him too much to ever think of him as anything other than my captain. Creature or not."

"Why become one of him? Why can you not stay as you are?"

Mingi's breath drags, a low sigh. "Because I was never anything special. I know what you are thinking: I must convince Mingi otherwise so he can change his mind. But this moment now is not something that has suddenly been a decision. He told me of his nature before. Years prior to now. I have always desired, ever since back then, to be like him. To be as strong as powerful. To hold my own. To be someone he could be proud of. He is like the brother I've always wanted, Rose. And I never want to leave his side. Just as I wish to never leave yours."

"I'm not becoming a jiāngshī, Mingi," you sat sternly. "I will avenge my family, then live as a free woman. For the rest of my days."

"You're given eternity and you will not grasp it in your hands?" He asks.

"My life is hard and I would change many things without blinking, but I do not want to live it forever. Humans are not meant to live forever. That is a curse, Mingi. You will watch everyone you care for perish–"

"I only care for the eight of us," he says. "I have no other people but you all. I need nothing else."

You do not know me well, is what you should tell him. I am not this woman you think I am. I am weak, I am unstable. I am not a suitable partner for any of you. Love is not something that I deserve. Instead you can only nod, worry encasing your features. He's so sure of his choice that all you can do is protest and say you'll never agree. You want to save him, save them all. Hongjoong said that he cannot die, but there must be a way.

Because in the end, you love them. And in a strange, bitter way, you love him too. But no human should live this long. No wonder his mind is so deluded. Terrifying. Years upon years of longing for a family and finally having one does that to you. And though you disagreed, along with Yeosang, there is some part of you that believes they will listen to your words. Not his.

"The next stop is soon, correct?" You ask. Mingi is almost shocked at the change of conversation, but nods anyway. "Wonderful."

"Will you leave us?" His hand on yours tightens. "I know that you said you would, but–"

"No."

His eyes light up. You could almost cry at the shine of them in the moonlight. "Are you jesting? Or am I hearing this strangely?"

"I am not leaving you, Mingi. Not yet–"

He pulls you into his arms without another word, a yelp falling from your lips as he embraces you. Despite the dire situation you can almost giggle at his cheerfulness. You wrap your arms around his body, his laughs echoing into your ear. It almost brings tears to your eyes.

"I'm so happy," he says.

You close your eyes, taking in his warmth. You will save him. You will save them all, whether they know it yet or not.

—

Quiet is not something you have ever considered yourself. Even as a young child, your laughs echoing throughout the hallways of your family home. While working as a handmaiden, there was rarely a time you would be silent. Most of your days were filled to the top with orders of the lady or requests being sent out. Never a moment of silence. So your choice to remain so while on the ship bothered all the men you came across. Mingi's teasing is minimal now. Yunho avoids you each time you enter the main mass. Wooyoung and Yeosang are often paired off somewhere you could not find them. San tries to speak to you but you can only give him a smile, maybe. Seonghwa and Hongjoong you could not avoid even if you tried. The latter filled your vision in random moments, sometimes while you helped in the kitchen, other times when you sat alone reading a novel. Seonghwa looked the most worried out of everyone, keeping his eye on you when he could.

Jongho. Jongho you are worried for. He often smiled around you before the circumstances of your silence. Now he never leaves his room. It scares you how quickly he shifted into himself. And now that you're on shore, the only thing you're thinking of is bringing him someplace you can distinguish his feelings. Help the two of you understand the choice that he is making. As soon as San throws over the anchor you're pulling Jongho, your hands curl into his as Yunho lowers the orlop doors.

"Rose?" Jongho asks softly, nervously.

You only turn to him, a smile crossing your lips. "I have only ever been in this city once with my former lady. There's a sight I must show you at once."

"We have so much to do–" Yunho starts behind you, silenced once he sees the look you give him. "Please do not be too late. Captain will throw me to the wolves."

"The captain has other things to worry about," you say, dragging Jongho along with you. The city is alive at this time of day, merchants lining the streets with goods of every kind. Jongho moves a bit closer to you as you make your way through, eyeing men who give you a look over. You can't help but feel endeared at his protectiveness over you. A light smile settles over your lips.

"I have enough coins for dinner if you would like–" Jongho says, glancing at some booths. "If you are hungry please do not hesitate to let me know."

You look up at him, patting the satchel that hangs from your waist. "I have prepared some snacks for us. But we should eat something. Though the walk is not long, we may become starved on the way." You stop in front of a stand, candy coated berries sitting on small wooden sticks.

Jongho notices right away, asking the merchant for two. He hands you one and you can only thank him, taking it between your fingers. "I cannot believe sweets are my dinner."

He shrugs, taking a mouthful, "It is quite tasty," he says through full cheeks. You admire the look for a moment, taking a small bite of your own. Thoughts flash in your head, your sweet Jongho forced to drink blood to survive. Your expression drops at the imagery, not going unnoticed by him. But just as he begins to question you, you entwine your hands once more, running through the crowds and making your way up a trail.

You stop at the peak, reminded of your time when you were younger, your parents bringing you to this same spot. You never thought you’d be on this island again, haunted by your last time. The blood everywhere. You look at Jongho, his eyes wide in awe as he takes in the city. You move to step on the rock, his hand immediately appearing at your side to steady you. You thank him, eyes on the city below your feet. From here you can see the lights, the people. The chaos in the distance. You hold in a breath, trying your best to figure out how to tell him how you feel.

Love is not something you wanted. You were once determined, sure that you would not fall for any of them. But as you look at Jongho, take in his delicate features, think of how he takes care of you with such ease, all you can feel is the exact emotion you did not want to. You let out a shaky sigh, sucking in a breath.

“Rose?” He asks, only for you to shake your head. You sit down on the rock, his movement matching yours.

"My time on this ship was nothing like I expected. Meeting Yunho, I presumed that I would be hiding out in the orlop until the next destination. Nothing would have prepared me for meeting my brother, or becoming so enamored by eight men,” Eight men. What a number. “And I am afraid. Afraid to care for someone so deeply that I cannot breathe. I want you to know that I love you, Jongho. My care for you has moved past anything I've ever known, and it scares me how much I do. How could I live, knowing there was a chance that I could save you from this choice you have made? That I could have told you my true feelings? But in the end you are your own man, and I cannot make decisions for you. I would just like you to know that I truly am not sure this is the correct one you're making."

You look at your fingers, pulling him closer to the edge of the rock with you. "When I first came here it felt so liberating. Watching the lights of the town bright against the sky, seeing each and every person's life pass by every second. I can see why someone would want to have that feeling everlasting. But even Hongjoong himself said that he grew lonely. It is a curse for a reason, Jongho. I would not want you to regret it."

Jongho sits silently by you. He is a man of few words. You've never expected anything else from him. His hand pulls from yours and you're hurt briefly, until the same hand cups your cheek, moving your face to meet his. His eyes are moist, touch shaky as he stares at you. "I wish that I could choose otherwise for you, Rose. I wish that I was brave enough to give up and live until we grow old together. But as do you, I have a family. Though we may not be related in the slightest bit, I cannot let them go that easily. And for that I am sorry."

Another no. You're running out of time. You sigh, gaze moving to the ground. "Will I ever convince you, Jongho?"

"You will not, Rose."

You swallow slowly, nodding. "Alright." You rest your forehead against his, eyes closed. “I just wanted you to know how I felt about it all. That I would never join you, no matter how much my love grows. Extends. Death is something that will always be there for me.”

“If we all are turned into this, would you still say no?” He asks, fingers rubbing your cheek. “If it were all eight of us, would you still not follow?”

“Yeosang would not–” You start, but he shakes his head.

“There is always the chance that he may change his mind.”

“What are you saying, Jongho?” You pull away from him, forcing his hand off your cheek. Anger rises in your body as you stare at him. “He said he would not, so I will take his word. Why are you saying something else entirely?”

He waves his hands in innocence, shaking his head quickly. “I am not saying he will, I am saying it is possible! That is all, Rose. Please do not be angry, I’m just trying to let you see all possibilities. I love you, Rose. I would not want you to do anything you do not want to. No matter how much any of us will suffer in the process, do you understand that? I accept your choices, as you accepted mine just now. If you do not want to live like us, I will never stop you from it. I will let your choices stay, because you are your own person. Forcing my desires onto you is something I would never want to do. Ever,” he emphasizes.

You laugh dryly, rubbing your face. “I’m sorry, I just panicked. I thought you were telling me he changed his mind. It was just a lot to take in for this brief moment.” You must be losing yourself. Has your confidence faltered this much around them? You huff, getting to your feet. You cup your hands around your mouth, staring out into the city.

“I love you, Choi Jongho!”

“Rose!” His eyes widen, moving closer to get to you. You only avoid his hands, laughing.

“I, Rose, am in love with Choi Jongho!” Your laughs are loud just as he grabs you, pulling you down from the spot. His cheeks are a lovely pink, an embarrassed expression on his face. You lean up, pressing your lips against his with ease. “Are you in love with me, Choi Jongho?” You tilt your head, eyes flicking between his. “Are you okay with me being in love with every one of you?”

Without another word, his hands rest against your neck, pulling you against him. His hands are everywhere, in your hair, pressing against your back to pull you closer to him. You giggle as the two of you stumble, falling into a pile of leaves. He does not leave your mouth until you pull away yourself. His hair is a mess, sticking every which way as you look up at him.

“Do you–”

“I am terribly in love with you, Rose. And it terrifies me how much I am that even with your declaration of saying you love another just as much does not bother me in the slightest.”

Your smile slips, laughing coming out more like a scoff. You put your hands back on either side of his face. He feels warm, real. In just a few weeks time, he will no longer. Will you be afraid of him, as you are of Hongjoong? Your heart pains at the thought.

-

“Hold,” He balances the wooden longsword between his fingers. “Keeping your hold steady is key. Your opponent will often use brunt force, but there’s a chance they may be nimble, light on their feet. I’ve rarely if ever come across someone as such, but if you are that exact way, it will be easier to dodge. The only shields we have on ship are scattered about in case of an ambush, but rarely will there be one in hand when it happens. So you must be prepared for that situation.”

You let out a low sigh, staring at the sword in your hands. Seonghwa insisted that you were to train while you were on the ship. You protested for a while until your brother added along with it to the point that you had to agree. And after all of those days arguing here you are with San. Sweat stains your clothing as you rest against the wall. You’ve been at this for hours now, exhaustion seeping into your bones. San’s frown deepens, the crescents against his cheeks matching it. You can help but giggle.

“You said you would cooperate,” he drawls, pointing the sword at you. “But you have been a difficult student.” You move closer to his sword. Once it pokes your arm only slightly, you crumble to the floor, laid out as you stare up at the blue sky.

“Oh boo, what am I to do? You have slain me, I am unable to move anymore. Looks like the lesson is over~” you grin at his face appearing in your vision, a joy against the cloud backdrop. “Mr. Choi, please, let me see this sky once more before disintegrating into nothing!”

“You are not sand, Rose,” he sighs softly, “Seonghwa will not be happy that we have not completed the lesson for today.”

You widen your eyes. “It’s been several hours! If I train anymore my limbs will fall from their sockets! And I am sure he will not enjoy that, Mr. Choi.”

He snorts now, moving from your view. You pout a bit on how easily he’s fallen for your words, until you feel his arms underneath you, pulling you up from the boards. You squeal, wrapping your arms around his body as he holds you against his chest. He laughs, walking you down the stairs to the washroom. Your face warms at how close he is to you, his brow raises at your silence.

“You were talkative just a moment ago. What has made the difference?”

Ah, so he is now cheeky? You move your gaze to his, ignoring how your heart races at the proximity. “Being in the arms of my swordsmanship teacher is not proper in the slightest. How am I to focus on honing my skills when I have a teacher as handsome as yourself? I may faint if we meet eyes.”

Your words do not sway him like it does everyone else, though. “If I am to see a beautiful woman faint at mere sight then I must be doing something correctly. Especially if it is the most elegant flower in the whole garden.”

“You only say that because I am the only flower you see. If this ship was riddled with women you would say otherwise–”

“Do not take my flirtatious words as only that, Rose,” His teasing shifts as he places you back on the floor, dropping to his knees as he does so. You slip from his hold, his hand resting against the doorframe as he looks to you. Sweat drips from his brow, his next words threatening to make you fall to your knees. “My wanting is not only due to you being the only woman I see. As I have said before, you are the most beautiful flower in the garden. If there were hundreds, no, thousands, of flowers surrounding me, you would stand out.”

“There are millions of Roses, you cannot say that.”

“There are millions,” he agrees, moving closer to you. “But none are the one who matches my teasing, treats me as you do, cares for me as such, thanks me for handing her a spoon, worries for me when I’ve fallen ill, thinks about me more often than she would admit. No, not one of those roses is mine.”

Now, how could each of these men leave you speechless? San moves closer, the washroom door closing behind him. You take steps back as he moves forward, your back pressing against the wooden panels. He holds himself up against the wall, forearms on either side of you as he looks at you.

“Do you understand my words, Rose? Or shall I repeat them again?” His brow quirks.

You lick your lips, his gaze watching as you do so. “All you men, all you ever do is think you can take me with ease.”

“How can I take you when you already consider yourself mine? Do you think that I do not know how you look at me? How you look at the rest of us? Anything you want from me, Rose, anything, I will give to you without a second thought. Love, desire, protection. Anything you’d like, I am willing.”

“I can protect myself,” you say, purposefully ignoring the other words. “Do not think that because I am a woman that I cannot."

“I know that you can. But I will protect you anyway, because you are my woman.”

You take in a breath. “Now what am I supposed to say to that?”

“Anything you want,” he moves closer, your chests pressed against each other’s. Both of your clothing is soaked in sweat, his still dripping down his face. Your hand reaches behind his head, tugging him closer. He wastes little time, your lips a breath away from another’s, his breathing tickling you. He brushes his own lips slightly against yours, groaning. His tongue slowly drags against yours.

“I’ve always wanted you this way. Trapped in my arms, unable to leave,” he murmurs. He does not seek a response, moving closer to you, his chest pressed against yours, You rest your hands behind his head as he laughs into your lips, leaning forward. His tongue plays with yours, your head hitting the wood. His eyes search yours with concern but you only roll your eyes, playing with his hair. His hands slide down to grip your hips. He groans against your lips when you tug hard against his hair.

“A lady does not make love against a wall, San,” you grumble. He shines his pretty crescents back at you, moving deeper into the room. He slowly glides you down to the floor, crawling on top of you. “You are so pretty at this angle.”

“You call me pretty?” his brow raises. “Before I can even say it about you?”

“I love being the first, of course.”

“I love you,” he says suddenly, stunning you. His grin stretches across his face, “And now I am the first.”

“You’re a sly man, Choi San.”

“And you are even more of a sly woman, Miss Rose.” His hands slide down your body, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. You help him, pulling it above your head. He places it delicately on the side of the two of you, hands gripping your sides. He presses a light kiss against your neckline. ”I love you Rose. And I know it is forward of me to say so when you have not confessed before I, but I do. Believe me when I say the words, because I will never stop.”

Your heart swells at his confession despite the circumstances. You love him and you know that he knows that well, but it only warms your heart that he feels the same. “Do you?” You whisper. He takes his lips off of you, leveling his eyesight with yours. “Are you saying that because I am a beautiful woman, or do you truly mean those words?”

“I love you, Rose. And I will love you even after I die. I will love you in every lifetime of yours. I will love you in a world beyond ours, in a story unlike anything we have ever experienced together. I will meet you again and again and my feelings will never change.” He takes your hand, pressing it against the left of his chest. “Now that I have found you, my heart only beats for you. The day that it stops beating will not make me love you less.”

“Do not speak of your death in a time like this,” you say, biting your lip. “I believe you.”

His expression relaxes. “My words are not sweet for the sake of them, Rose. If you never touched me I will still love you the same.”

“Well that is too bad,” you smile. “Because I want to touch you everywhere, Sannie.”

His gaze shifts, loving eyes more surly. You feel his fingers gripping you even tighter.

“You seem uneasy?” you ask. He shakes his head, fingers dipping beneath the lining of your slacks. He rips them with ease, tossing them somewhere near the buckets of water. “Mr. Choi?”

“You seek to ruin me with your words,” his fingers dip inside you without another word, groaning. “You seek to ruin me with your words, but all I can feel is me ruining you, Rose. Do not give me that look,” his lips lift in a smirk. “My words ring true.”

“A man who looks like sin will make any woman glance twice,” you gasp as his finger curls, a slow pace inside of you.

“Then it is only my luck that the only woman I want is one of them,” He moves forward, tongue dragging along the curve of your chin. “You taste sinful, Rose. Hell,” he groans, feeling you tighten against his, now, two fingers inside of you. “I would like to prolong this, but the others are due to bathe soon. I want you so badly, my Rose. Will you let me take care of you?”

“Take me however you please,” you groan, his thumb pressing against your clit. He pulls out just as you almost fall over the edge, pulling off his shirt. Marks decorate his skin, words in languages you cannot comprehend. You see the ship’s flag just beneath his left pec, distracted when you feel his cock rub against your leg.

“Will you like me inside of you, or will you like to become undone by my fingers alone?” He rubs himself against your thigh, the head of him lightly brushing against you. You shiver each time it touches. “I do not mean to rush Rose, but it only a matter of moments before one of the others enters.”

“I want you inside of me, I want to feel you inside of me,” you say, breathless. He lines himself up against you, slowly pressing into you. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, head thrown back as you feel every curve of him inside of you, every vein, every throb. Though you admire his restraint, there is no time to be a gentleman. “San, please,” you beg. “Faster, Sannie.”

“As requested,” Sounds of pleasure escape you as he moves in and out, the wet sounds of your arousal echoing around the room. He sucks your skin, pace quick and deep. He bites your skin softly, hand squeezing your neck as he slams you.

“Mine, all mine,” he murmurs. He keeps your gaze, tilting his head as he stares. Sinful in his gaze. “My Rose, tell me where you’d like me to go,” He groans, cock throbbing. “Where?”.

“Inside of me, San.”

“Inside of you?” He repeats, only to confirm your words. “As requested,” he repeats, lips meeting yours. His pace speeds up, erratic in its movements. His lips meet yours, his pace stuttering slightly. His thumb rubs your clit quickly, desperate for you to come. Another deep push inside you and you tremble, your bodies pressed against another’s as you both cum. He sighs into your neck.

-

“Darling,” Mingi towers over you, a crate of vegetables resting just behind you. You stare up at him in a pout, eyes narrowed. His eyes flick to your lips, only making your mock anger increase. Though Seonghwa said you could help with cargo movement, he only meant small bags now and then, which rarely, if ever, appeared in the storage room on the ship. It was a pity duty, if anything else. So you’ve taken to yourself to start and move the barrels. Having Mingi spot you while you were in the process of doing so was not exactly on your list.

“It’s best if you rest. It’d be a tragedy if you wounded yourself.”

“I am a woman, my love. Not a child. I can tow a few wooden crates across the dock.”

After your confession to Jongho, the others knew of your care for them promptly. You’ve never blamed Jongho because you did not tell him to keep it to himself, but it did shift the relationships between everyone and yourself. Though you have not told them all to their faces that you were in love with them, they knew. Especially Mingi. He has rarely, if ever, left your side once he knew. Right when you woke up the next morning after the night with Jongho, he told you he loved you. It made you laugh at the time at the ease with which he said it, but it comforted you. And now, you’re stuck with him following your every move.

“You can,” he agrees. “But you know why you mustn’t. Someone may spot you—”

And that. The fear of your former lady finding you again. “We are so far from my home—”

“It’s still a possibility,” He steps forward, holding your face in his hands. Your cheeks are crushed as you glower up at him, groaning in aggravation as he presses a chaste peck to your lips. “I want you safe, you know that right?”

“I do. But using the defense of not wanting me to be hurt is such a man thing to utter. You know that I can handle myself on my own,” You press a finger into his chest for emphasis. He nods, your eyes only narrowing further. “Are you patronizing me?”

“I love you.”

“That does not answer the question, smelly man.”

His laugh is boisterous, shaking his frame as he presses you deeper into his chest. You cannot be upset with him long, the large frame of his holding anything but meanness. Which only makes you angry that it’s difficult to be angry with him. You sigh low, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“I’d never do such a thing, darling.”

“Wonderful. Now let me go. I may suffocate before we make it to my destination if you hold me any longer.”

His hold tightens, “Not until you say you love me back.”

“Mingi!” You try to wrestle out of his grip, but he doesn’t dare to let go. You laugh, shifting your face up to look at his. Chin resting against his chest, your gazes meeting each other’s. “You’re such an asshole.”

He gasps, eyes widening. “A lady shouldn’t say such vulgar words, you know. And that isn’t going to make me let go.”

“I love you, Song Mingi,” you say simply, pinching his side. “Now unhand me you big stinky man!”

A knock makes you want to turn and see, but Mingi only shifts his head, trapping you within his hold. You whine but he ignores, a wide grin on his cheeks.

“Hyung, she was just confessing her undying love for me. You’ve interrupted,” he says, pout on his lips. There’s few that he calls the title but you still cannot tell who it is.

“Remove her from your hold, I’d rather see her in one piece.” Ah, Seonghwa. You pinch Mingi’s bicep, hard, and he yells, letting you go. You move around him to face Seonghwa, groaning when the smelly man wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. It is an awkward angle, but you do not protest, letting him continue. “We are to have dinner tonight in the captain’s quarters. He requests that we all dress well since it will be the first time since Rose told us that she would be joining the crew and he would like to celebrate.”

Mingi notices how your body tenses within his hold, his thumb rubbing against your arm as you take in the information. After your confession, you’ve rarely seen Hongjoong. Not his fault of his own, no. You were the one that avidly avoided his every move. You have not entered the dining hall since everyone found out about how you felt. Admitting to the captain that you're promise to never fall for him filled terribly is not something you're looking forward to. Especially the snide remarks he's very likely to make.

"Is it mandatory?"

"It is a celebration of you, Rose. Of course the main reason for us gathering needs to be there," he says simply, noticing the drop of your expression. "It will not be all night, so you needn't worry about that."

"I would love to celebrate with you all, truly. It is just difficult for me to do so, don't you understand?" You hope for some sympathy. Perhaps enough to stop the dinner entirely. You cannot defy the captain's orders on your own. But if Seonghwa suggested it, it might change. Hongjoong has a soft spot for the Quartermaster.

Seonghwa nods, "I do. And I hope you understand my next words when I say that I've advocated for it not to happen because of your dislike of events as such. But the captain did not budge this time, Rose. My deepest apologies for not being convincing enough."

"It is not your fault, Hwa. I thank you for the attempt," you rest your hand upon Mingi's arm that's still wrapped around you. "I will be ready by then."

He gives you a small smile, nodding. You notice how his eyes linger on Mingi's arms around you, before disappearing up the steps. You sigh softly, leaning back into Mingi's chest.

"Am I being too harsh to the captain?" You ask him, voice barely above a whisper. "Are the steps I've taken too far?"

"Everyone has their own comfort levels, darling. Yours are not wrong."

"You did not answer my question." You point out.

"It's more complicated than just a simple answer, Rose. We all know of your disdain towards him. And we all know why it has grown. But we also know that the captain is trying his best to make you feel comfortable in his presence. Perhaps giving him a chance will do wonders."

You let out a low sigh, "I cannot speak to you when I'm in distress. Your answers are too well crafted for me to deny."

"So it means you will go without complaints, then?"

"Oh, I will never stop my complaining. But I will attend. Reluctantly," you add, turning around in his arms to meet his gaze. "Now where were we?"

"I'm not allowing you to lift them no matter how many words you try to entrap me with!"

"You are such a menace!"

-

Your hand brushes the metal knob. It’s quieter now without the backdrop of several other crew members aboard the ship, the loud laughter silenced as you swing open the door and duck through the entrance. Everyone else is already seated, chatter amongst them as you make your way down the steps. You’re thankful for the obvious space they give you, not meeting your eyes until you take the open seat at the table. Unfortunately for you, though, the only one left is at the head of the table, the opposing side occupied by the captain. You almost begin to complain at the notion, but you stop yourself. This is the one night you should be cordial with him. It would be rude of you to start out with anger already. So you take the seat.

On your left sits Seonghwa to your mild surprise. You very much expected him to take the seat near his captain. Continuing down the line is Yeosang, Mingi, then Wooyoung. On your right sits Yunho, San, Jongho, and your brother, Subin. Just as you sit down Seonghwa leans closer to you, voice hushed as he speaks his next words.

“You were not long, no need to worry,” he assures you without you needing to ask. “In fact, I am sure that we all were early to arrive.”

“Moreso Seonghwa and Wooyoung,” Yunho adds in, taking a sip of his water. “Once they heard about the gathering they both made it an hour before. Though I can give a bit of leeway to Wooyoung since he is our cook, there’s no reason for the Quartermaster to arrive as early as he did.”

Seonghwa frowns, “I was inspecting the perishables.”

  “Inspecting it while sitting in that same spot for over an hour?” Yunho smirks, only causing San to chuckle next to him. You match his grin, resting your chin on your folded hands as he begins to explain himself. A tap on the table ceases the conversation immediately, Hongjoong standing at the helm.

“We are here to celebrate, not tease,” he says, shaking his head at Yunho. The man smiles but says nothing in response, bowing to his captain. “Our Rose has finally decided to join our crew, to embrace our family as her own. We all thank you for this, and hope that you can enjoy your time with us on our ship. I will protect you with my life, as will the rest of the men at this table.”

Your brother is the first to stand, holding out his beer bottle to you. Hongjoong wraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer as they both salute to you. The others all stand as well, glasses raised. You slide from beneath the table, curtsying at their motion.

“I thank you all as well for taking me in as your own without question. Here I have found a member of my family that I mourned for years, and I have also found companionship within these wooden walls and on the vast, open sea. Though there are many decisions that will be made against my own beliefs, I do think of you as my home. I hope none of you doubt that,” you meet each of their gazes, briefly lingering on Hongjoong’s. The smirk that you expected rests on his lips. You notice the grip that his hand has on your brother, brows furrowing once you see an odd bandage on his neck.

Their sudden cheering distracts you from it, their glee making yours rise. They all sit back down, the quiet immediately filled with chatter as they all begin to laugh and eat. Your eyes flick down to the plate in front of you – bloody meat, seared on either side. You swallow slowly, pushing it away as you eat the potatoes in another bowl. You can’t quite figure out what’s happening, but something is off. Your gaze moves to the wine cup in Hongjoong’s hand, the familiar blood swirling inside of it. But once you move down the table, you see everyone with it in their hand except for Yeosang, drinking it with ease. There’s still several days left. There is no way–

“Are you alright?”

Seonghwa looks at you, pink lips stained bloody red. The metallic smell hits your nose, your stomach groaning, mouth running dry. Your eyes move to your brother, the sounds muting themselves once you see his fingers wrapped around the glass, taking a long drink. He almost holds it desperately, tongue dragging along to rim to take in every drop.

Hongjoong never mentioned Subin, he never said –

“Rose?” Yunho touches your hand. You pull back immediately, frightened at the touch. It is not like you have not ever let him touch you, you’ve spent several nights next to him as you slept. But he’s always been warm. Why is he now so terribly cold? “Talk to me.”

You stand, the drag of your chair against the floor disrupting conversations. Your hands shake, moist with sweat as you move away from them all. Your brother is the first to get to you, hands raised as you shrink away from him. Blood stains his shirt, splatters across the cotton as he moves closer. How could you not have noticed it before? Were you so stuck in your own head you forgot what's happening right in front of you?

“Breathe, Rosie. It’s okay–“

You shake your head, words lost as you open and close your mouth. His hand touches yours. Cold.

“What did you do?” You ask him, blinking slowly as you meet his eyes. The brown is lighter now, crimson as he stares at you. You hold back your scream, body shaking. He’s your brother, he’s alive. He would not make this choice just after finding you. He wouldn’t. Subin wouldn’t.

“It was for me, Rose. He asked and I just couldn’t say no–"

You close your eyes, sucking in your lips. Think, think. Say something.

“How?”

“Rosie–"

“How did you turn into something like him?” Your voice is stern now, angry. “What did you have to do?”

His expression breaks down as you glare at him. Keeping one hand raised, he slides the bandage down, revealing a stab wound just beneath the curve of his chin. You gasp, hands flying to your mouth as you stare at it. It’s the same spot that Hongjoong showed you when he ‘injured’ himself. His fingers brush against it. You expect him to at least hiss at the pain, but his teeth shine at you as he grins.

He’s grinning.

“It only hurt for a moment, but when I came to I was alive again. I have never felt more alive in my whole life.”

Dead. He had to die to become like Hongjoong. Your eyes move to the rest of the men in the room, worries etched in their faces. The only man who matches your expression is Yeosang, the only clear face through the cloud. You do not get the chance to dwell though, Hongjoong clearing his throat.

“I thought it would be a good time to show you what it means to be like me. They will not be warm like I due to the curse that was bestowed upon me. They will remain cold for the years they live,” He gestures to the rest of the men around the room, “Only a few have not been turned yet, but if you saw the process you might think differently. Mingi insisted that he would be the first to show you.”

He’s of no sound mind if he believes you’d like to see them die one by one. Seonghwa notices how tense you are, how close you are to falling apart, and turns back to Hongjoong. “Captain, this may not be a good time to start this–"

“Nonsense. If she is to live as part of the crew, she must witness this with her own eyes. Mingi, come,” Hongjoong waves him closer. Mingi looks between you and him, giving you a quick smile before moving closer to him.

“No!” You yell, pushing Subin out of the way. Seonghwa holds you against him just as Mingi places his head against the table. The others look on, Yeosang’s eyes away from the scene as Hongjoong lifts the knife. Just before he pushes it into his neck, Seonghwa covers your eyes, the sound echoing in your ears. Mingi cries out, the thumping of his limbs against the wood filling your ears. You try to pry Seonghwa’s hands from your face but he doesn’t move, even as your nails dig into his skin. Your tears paint his palm as you sob, falling to the ground. Though you cannot see anything, the picture in your head is gruesome enough, the sound of him dying almost too much to bear.

“It’ll be okay,” Seonghwa whispers to you softly, pulling you closer to his body. You notice how warm he is compared to Yunho, Subin. He has not turned yet. You dip your head into his chest, throat aching from the screams you let out. “He’ll be fine, Rose. Trust me.”

“You did not let her see the main event,” Hongjoong sighs. “That is what she came here for.”

“Seeing someone die is not a special occasion,” Seonghwa says, sharp in his tone. “Have you forgotten what she has gone through?”

“Are you questioning my choices, Park?” Hongjoong hisses back. You cannot see him, but you hear the familiar steps of Hongjoong as he moves closer to you. “Answer me.”

You look up from his chest to his face, seeing the anger in his brows, the turn of his lips. He looks down at you, his expression softening. “I am not, Captain. I follow your lead, as always, without question. My apologies, seeing Rose distraught hurt me.”

“Mingi will be up soon,” Hongjoong says just behind you. “I’ll have him visit you Rose so that you can see he is well. Seonghwa, you can take her back to her room. We will continue your ceremony once she is well enough on her own.”

Seonghwa nods, lifting you with ease off the floor. Your eyes move down to the wood, the glistening of a slow blood trail just near you. He holds you close as the two of you leave the room, ducking his head and shutting the door behind him.

He does not try to start conversation, holding you close as he leads you back to your room. Though, instead of walking down the steps to yours, he goes to the opposite side of the ship, opening a hatch and making his way down to his own room. You’ve never stepped foot on this side out of politeness, knowing that he rested here alone. You blink slowly as he places you on his bed. He shifts through the dark, reaching for a match and striking it against the sandpaper, holding it close as he lights the lanterns in his room. It’s quaint in comparison to many of the men, his belongings neatly placed in their spots, clothing folded and hanged, clean. You’re sure you cannot spot one dirty corner of the room, much cleaner than even yours.

Your head throbs as you rub it, Seonghwa crouching down next to you. A small cup of tea rests between his fingers, blowing on it lightly as he holds it up to your lips. You take a slow sip, hotter than you expected it to be. You thank him as he hands it to you, his body resting against the frame of the bed as he waits for you to finish.

“I did not know he would do that,” Seonghwa starts, a pained expression on his face. “If I knew, I would have objected to your presence immediately. No one should have to witness the death of a loved one when it is not necessary. When I invited you I truly thought it was to welcome you to our crew, nothing nefarious. I know my words are not the most trustworthy because of my relation to our Captain, but I hope you can see them as true. I would never want to hurt you in such a way, Rose,” his voice cracks at the end, eyes watering. “I could not imagine how you would react seeing him like that, so I had to cover your eyes. Something that horrid could not be removed from a memory. Shielding you from that scene is not something I will apologize for.”

The cup rests between your palms, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. “I have always considered myself a brave woman and yet here I am, continuing to cry in front of you. You do not need to apologize to me for something they have planned. I assumed you did not know from your reaction alone.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head. “They hid it because they knew I would rather die than let you be in the room when it happened.” Die, death. It seems that you cannot ever escape it. The screams of Mingi still resonate in your ear, the tightening of your chest almost making you feel faint.

“Can we not speak of your death right now, Seonghwa?” The words are at a whisper as you speak them, gaze glued to the back of his head. “I’ve seen enough of it already to last a lifetime.”

He nods to you, letting the silence fill the air again. You place the cup on the side table, closing your eyes as you rest your head against his pillows. All of them dying lingers on your mind. Especially the way your brother seemed so happy to show you the wound on his neck, telling you that he’s no longer a human. The way he gripped the glass of blood, drinking it with earnestness, letting it drip onto his shirt. Seonghwa is one of the few who decided against it at this moment. But you know he wants it, you know it is probably on his mind right now, just as it is on yours.

“Will he force me to watch you die too?” You ask softly, though you just tossed away the subject.

“I wouldn’t allow it.”

“You would not be in the position to make that decision.”

Seonghwa turns to you, your head tilted in his direction as you meet his eyes. You’ve always loved the way they are so open, full of life. Rarely if ever does he hide his true emotions, and even if he could, you could tell from a look what he truly felt. Like right now.

  “He would not go against my wishes.”

“He knew you would not like for me to see that and yet he did it anyway. He cares about no one’s wishes but his own,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “If that was the case he would not have ever offered this to you.”

“You believe it was his idea?”

“That is what he said, yes.”

Seonghwa’s lips lift, a small smile. “No, my doe. He did not make that decision on his own. Wooyoung was the first to bring it to his attention after a long night. It was before you arrived on the ship. After a night of fighting with another crew, many of us were bruised, bloody, wounds covering our skin. Our captain was the only one who did not suffer like we have. He could only watch us as he assisted with bandaging our wounds. Wooyoung spoke and asked if there was any possibility that we could be like him. At first the captain insisted that there was not, that we would have to live like this. Then he loosened his lips and confessed that it was possible. That night, the majority of us agreed to turn into him. We could change our tune at any time, but none of us have. Including Yeosang,” he adds. “He never wanted it, so none of us pushed him into it. And not too long later you arrived on the ship.”

Why did he lie? Did Hongjoong want you to hate him more, look at him with utter disdain? But why? Was it not his end goal to make you love him? And he has achieved it, somewhat. Though he seems keen on destroying your care for him entirely.

“Do you know why he was cursed?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifts, darkens. “He was never willing to give us a reason.”

“And you are not the least bit curious?”

“I was,” he admits, tucking his legs closer to him. “But when you’ve lived with someone longer than you’ve lived without them, you learn. Whatever it may be that he has done, he has suffered for it. I think it unnecessary that I pry into his past to find out what it was.”

You adore Seonghwa with every bone in your body, but this is one thing you cannot agree on. Being cursed with something of this nature and not giving it a second though is obscene. Trying to pry out any more information from his mind will only make him close himself off more. All you can do is watch as each of them turn into something unimaginable. You wish that your brother was nowhere near it, but it is done. Now you must find a way to bring him back.

“Forcing your own beliefs on people who want this is not a wise choice,” Seonghwa says. You have not noticed, but he’s turned to look at you. “He will push you away.”

“He’s my brother.”

“One you have never seen, Rose. None of us are who we once were,” Seonghwa sighs. “I am sure he’s unlike the boy he tells you he was. Protecting your family is of utmost importance, that I know from experience, but there are times that we must let go.”

He’s telling you to let your brother live a life of drinking human blood? The way he speaks of it is so odd, strange. The more you look at Seonghwa, the more you feel as if he’s changed since you’ve met him. You nod, moving your legs to the side of the bed to stand. Your body is still a bit unstable, shaky, but you would rather be in your own quarters than in his. He stands, placing his hand on the edge of the bed.

“You can stay here for the night, I will not dare disturb you.”

“I would prefer being on my own.” You slowly stand, his eyes widening.

"No one will come for you here."

"I would rather not overstay my welcome."

“Rose, please,” his voice is desperate now, holding your arm as you move. You narrow your eyes at his change in tone. “It is for the best, that I promise you.”

“Why will you not let me go?”

“I…” he sucks in a breath, glancing at the door to his room. “I cannot say, but it is best if you stay here. If you have not listened to any of my words, please listen to this. It is in your best interest if you do so.”

“Answer the question, Seonghwa.”

He sighs deeply, running his fingers through his hair. The way his hand trembles, the panicked look in his eyes. He knows something that you do not. What is awaiting you in your room? And why is he not saying so? You did find it strange that he carried you here, with explicit instruction from the captain to place you in your room.

“If I say what will happen, there will be consequences. All I can say is that he instructed me to take you to your room, Rose. And without thinking, I took you to mine. No one else but Hongjoong is allowed in here, and he will be preoccupied with the others tonight. Do you understand what I am saying to you? Please rest here, I will make sure you will be alright if you just stay.”

"... Alright. I will not leave."

"Do you promise this?" He says, eyes flicking between yours. "Promise me Rose. Promise you will not leave this room until daybreak."

"I will not leave, Seonghwa. I promise you."

The stress from before slides from his gaze, tension loosened. He lets out a small breath, nodding slowly. "And I will follow my own promise and leave you be. Not fully, I'll stay outside my room after I'm done."

This is not the right moment to do it, but you reach out, letting your hand cup his cheek. You try to memorize the warmth beneath your fingertips, hoping that he changes his mind in the next few minutes. He leans into your touch, lids fluttering as he covers your hand with his. He presses a chaste kiss into your palm, eyes steady on yours.

"Love does not change in an instant, my doe. I will still be the same man."

You will not.

"We can love each other as before."

You cannot.

You place your other hand on the side of his face, holding his head between your fingers. Your eyes watch as his cheeks flush beneath. If there were a way to capture this moment forever you would do it without hesitation. To see him like this again. You hold back your tears, biting your lip.

"I've always admired your eyes, Hwa," you say, lip trembling. "They are so full of life, expressive. Round. Though I do not believe in love at first sight, I do know that once you laid your gaze upon mine, I could never look away."

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, but you hold him steady. "Even now knowing it will not be the same. Please look upon me one more time so that I can keep that moment in my head for years to come."

"You will never lose me."

You can barely make out his words, his fingers digging into yours, light sobs falling from his lips. You hold in yours, letting your forehead rest against his. It feels as if you're mourning him when he is right in front of you. The fleeting wish of knowing him sooner so that you may have spent time with him as he is now crosses your mind. And with horror, the small thought of you living as them so you can know them longer lingers.

"I love you ever so much, Seonghwa," you say. "And I will not make you listen to what I want. If this will make you happy, then I will accept your decision."

-

Seonghwa locked the door behind him. You hold your legs close, the sound of Mingi dying echoing in your mind over and over. The blood splattering against the floor, trickling down the wood, almost touching your shoes. Sleeping through the horror in your mind is unlikely. In times like this you would stand on the deck, stare at the stars. But now, you fear, if you leave this room something may happen to you. The only person you are afraid of is Hongjoong, but with the panic in Seonghwa's eyes maybe you were too innocent to believe no one else could cause harm.

The captain said that Mingi would visit your quarters. Would they start a search once they see that you're not there? Seonghwa would have told you by now, no? You trust him. He would do everything in your best interest. And your brother. You should speak to him, somehow figure out how to handle this. How to make things right again.

A light knock on the door makes you freeze, eyes on the knob. It does not move, whomever it is, thankfully, not opening the door entirely. Or forcing it open.

“Seonghwa told me you were here after much persistence on my part,” his voice seeps through the cracks in the wood. You’ve always enjoyed listening to him speak though he never went on tangents often. “I know I’m not allowed inside, so I wanted to speak to you through it, if I may.”

“I’d never reject your presence, Yeosang. You should know that well,” your voice feels smaller, unsure. “Have you…”

“No,” he says quickly. You hear him slide down the door, a sigh leaving his lips as he rests his head against the wood. “Nothing will convince me otherwise, Rose. Please trust me when I say I’d rather die untimely than become something like them.”

“Have they all turned now?” You ask.

There’s hesitance in his voice. “No. Not when I left, no. Seonghwa is the last. He left for the captain’s quarters. I do not believe you will be seeing him again tonight. He will be preoccupied for the remainder. Apologies for not being who you expected to hear from tonight.”

He needn’t apologize. You are thankful that it is him resting outside your room and not anyone else. Even your brother, who you worry for, you cannot see just yet. Your emotions still have not settled, the grip on your necklace only tightening as you think back to tonight. The sound of Mingi’s flesh being pierced ringing in your head over and over. You are not sure it will ever stop. Yeosang does not say anymore. As always, a man of few words.

“Will you be okay, Yeosang?”

“Hm?” He hums.

“Your family, they’ve all turned. You will be alone.”

There’s silence. You play with your necklace, your nerves taking over. Have you said too much? Why does this man make you so nervous? Your breath hitches, chest pounding.

“I have always been alone, Rose. Losing another family of mine is nothing new. But I will not leave them,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve lived with them for so long on this ship I know nothing else. I have promised to stay by their side no matter what decision they’ve made. They are my home. And this may be selfish to say,” you hear him shuffle again. “But I had hoped that one day you may think of us as your home too.”

You do.

You did.

“I care for you all, Yeosang,” you say simply.

“But not enough to live with us like this? You have officially joined us not too long ago, and you are deciding to leave? Do you fear them that much?”

“It is more complicated than just a fear,” you swallow. “I cannot get the thought of my parents’ bodies, swallowed in a pile of their own blood out of my head. I do not want to witness anything like that again. It was silly of me to even accept a position on this ship knowing what pirates do. And it was even more silly of me to fall in love with all of you in my own separate, intricate ways. I should have stopped that night we were together. I should have pulled away.”

“Do you regret it? Us being together?”

His lips trail along your neck, crescents embedded in your skin as he pushes deeper into you.

You flush at the memory, mouth dry. “I will not, as long as I live.”

“I will not either, Rose. I think of it everyday, if I am being honest.” His body moves closer to the door, your eyes glancing at the shadow of him just on the opposite side. Seonghwa told you explicitly that no one else is allowed in his room except Hongjoong. But the thought of opening it just so that Yeosang can clouds your mind entirely. “Your body underneath mine, the way you tightened against me as I moved deeper inside of you.”

Your chest rises and falls quickly, swallowing the saliva that pools in your mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to do that again? And again, and again.”

“Yeosang,” a heavy breath leaves your lips, wetting them with a flick of your tongue. “We cannot do that tonight. Seonghwa, and the others–”

“They would not mind, pretty,” his voice switches, a higher pitch falling from it. His nails scratch against the wood, breaking it beneath his fingertips. “My pretty peach.”

This is not Yeosang.

“How the hell did you do that?” You say, moving further up your bed. You look around for anything that may be of use, in case he decides to enter the room. “How could you mimic him?”

“A perk of not being human,” he giggles, a shiver running down your spine. “You would only speak to me if I were your Yeosang, pretty. I needed to change it a bit so that you’d listen.” Though you cannot see him, you can picture the pout on his lips, the mischievous glint to his eyes. “I can make you feel good again if you let me in.”

“The Wooyoung I know is afraid to even touch me, let alone encourage it. What has he done to you? Why are you this way?” And it is true. Wooyoung is shy, nervous. You could barely get him to look you in the eye without the familiar flush on his cheeks. This Wooyoung? His confidence makes your heart skip beats, but he is not Jung Wooyoung. The shy chef that gives you extra portions, the man who makes you flowers out of spare oregano he discovers in the kitchen, the man who you love dearly. “When did he turn you?”

“Moment’s ago,” he says. “And I am the same, Rose. I only am more confident in my words. I let my thoughts out of this head of mine now. Do you not like that more? Does that not satisfy you?”

“A change was not needed in the first place–”

His fist bangs against the wood, breaking through the door. You scream, gripping the candle holder in your hands. He stills, fist still in the hole. You can see half his face, lips open in shock. He opens, then closes them, pulling his hand away from the hole. Though it is dark, you can see a bit of the way his body shakes, quickly standing to his feet.

“I did not… Rose, I do not know of my strength. I–” His voice wavers. “I am sorry. I’ll leave you. Please do not be afraid, okay? I will not bother you anymore tonight. I promise that.” He disappears after that, your hands tight around the holder as you stare at the hole. The last sentences he spoke reminded you of your Wooyoung, but the fear that he can just… easily, break through wood, only solidifies your fears. He could have broken down the door if he wanted.

You must leave.

-

It is probably too early in the morning when you wake, still gripping the candle holder. You wipe your face with the small bowl of water Seonghwa left on the side table, standing. You look through the small window, the moon still high in the sky. You look through his room, grabbing a small knife and tucking it in the strap wrapped around your thigh. Just as you move to the door, you stop, thinking.

Seonghwa warned you about leaving his room, in fear of what would happen if you went back to your room. You trust him. But there is a part of you that wonders the full truth to his words. What if he wanted you to stay, so that he would come back for you? Is it too far-fetched to believe that he would turn you once he arrived back in his quarters? Hours ago there would have been a definitive answer, but now you are not so sure. Especially with the way Woo smashed into the door. Your eyes flick to the hole, finally swinging the door open.

The dark is quiet as you make your way up the steps. There are small boats you can take, push it off the side and be on your way. You would need a map depending on how far you are from land, but you can recall Jongho saying it is just a day and a half away. Is that enough? Will a small boat be able to take you to shore? Or are you confided to this ship, stuck with a group of men, thirsty for your blood?

You hold the lantern close.

“Discouraging yourself is not something you often do, Rose,” you murmur.

The breeze stings your cheeks harshly, the wind tasting of salt as you climb up the steps. You stomp loudly on the last step, letting out a brief breath from tiredness and glancing to the side. It’s quite dark, the skies clouded. You dig into the pocket of your vest, a small blade resting between your fingers. It’s warm from your skin, shining from the lanterns that line the bow.

“We told you to rest,” A voice next to you says.

You turn to him, your gaze shifting upwards to meet his eyes. Despite how daring Yunho’s look is, the scarlet shocks you momentarily. You don’t let it show in your gaze though, expression cool. It is still Yunho, you ponder. Even if he has changed. So, you reach up to trace his chin, pulling back promptly when you feel how frigid it is. He furrows his brows at that, taking a step forward. Without pause you take one back, holding a hand up so that he does not follow.

“Are you well, Rose?”

“It is I who should inquire about that,” you say, swallowing deeply. “Is this choice of yours irreparable? Are you unable to be as you once were?” Forward enough in your words, you hope that there is something you can do to help him. Help them all. He is your Yunho, the man you love. Or, the man you once loved.

"Why?

The question is simple. How a one-word answer can hold so much is beyond you. But you can only stare up at him. The feeling of love is oddly mixed with fear, hurt.

Disgust.

"You're not you any longer," you say, voice hushed. As if you were keeping it away from the others. Just between the two of you. Yunho's expression drops as your words settle, flicking between your eyes. You don't dare catch his gaze, knowing that it will only hurt more. "I cannot love you when you are not even alive."

"Look at me."

"No."

"Rose, please look at me."

"Your eyes are not the same. I can only look at you with terror, Jeong Yunho. And I fear that is the only emotion I will feel until you are well again."

"Rose," His scoff is a bit amused at your wording. You take a sneaking glance at him, watching as he runs his fingers through his locks. They seem shiner, neater in appearance. Too perfect, you think. You look down just as he looks back at you. "I am well. I won't ever feel better than I do at this very moment. Will you never accept me as I am? Will you never accept the rest of us?"

You know your answer. You know how it will hurt him so, the words that you're about to say. But it will only wound him more if you do not meet his gaze while uttering the confession. So your eyes flick to his, wavering at the color staring back at you.

"I cannot love people who are dead, Yunho. I will mourn you. Mourn who you once were. But I will not stay on this ship longer than I must. The next stop will be my last."

"You don't mean that."

You nod solemnly. "A lie has never fallen from these lips."

"You might change your mind. I am sure that you will," His voice is persistent, desperately trying to peel your resolve. "Being together forever can change your mind, you can join us. The others wouldn't hate the thought either. Please think it over."

"Everyone I love is dead, Yunho. And I am not ready to join them in their fate," You're lumping them with your family, all who've perished terrible ends. Except your brother, with whom you hope can come with you once you arrive at the next port. "And I did not come out here to debate you. I am walking to take a breath, without onlookers." And in hopes to find some supplies you may leave with.

His fist relaxes as he takes a breath. It's not what he wanted to hear, that you know, but he doesn't try to dig any further. Instead he nods, stepping away from you. You sigh in relief, the beating of your heart slowing down. The admittance of being afraid of him would never be said. But from his fallen expression, sad eyes, you might not even need to say the words. He knows already. It hurts to see how much it affects him, knowing that you'd never touch one of them again. But it is for the better.

Since they will be dead by your blade soon if you cannot find a solution.

He disappears down the ship, the lantern fading into the dark. You watch his back. Once it disappears, your steps quicken, grabbing an emergency satchel that rests next to the stairs. You look through, frowning as you note the supplies. There is possibly a week’s worth of food in it, maybe more if you rationed, but not enough that you’re confident you will survive more than two weeks out at sea. Walking through the food area and into the kitchen is a risk, especially when you are not sure where everyone is on the ship. Your room is out of the question, Mingi perhaps lingering inside of it, waiting to see you.

The reward outweighs the risk, so you throw the satchel over your shoulder, quickly making your way across the deck. You descend down the steps, not bothering to glance at the quarters to your right. You push the door open, glancing inside of the dining room. It’s quiet. Even the table that you sat at, where Mingi died, is clean, free of the evidence of just hours prior. Lingering around is not the best idea, so you quickly walk through, pushing the door open to the kitchen.

You almost drop your satchel at the sight.

Hongjoong grips Seonghwa’s hips, pressed against him as Seonghwa sits on the counter. The view is erotic in itself, Seonghwa’s head thrown back as Hongjoong’s lips are pressed against it, hips joined together as Hongjoong’s fingers dig into them. Seonghwa’s corset loosened, a moan falling from his lips when Hongjoong pulls him closer. His eyes slowly open, head turned to your direction. They widen immediately upon seeing you standing there, hand touching the back of Hongjoong’s head, tugging. Hongjoong lifts his lips from his neck, a trail of saliva and blood dripping from his lips. His head turns, but before he meets your eyes you twist on your heel and run, throwing your body against the swinging doors. Realizations ring in your head, consuming your thoughts.

Hongjoong was feeding on Seonghwa. How long has this been happening? Seonghwa’s eyes aren’t red, so he’s not turned yet, but was he going to be at that very moment? You have never sensed anything romantic between the two, but was that just your mind too involved with everyone else to see?

None of these questions matter in the long run. What they do in their spare time is none of your concern. You could not grab extra food, so you must deal with what you have. Just as you go to open the dining hall door, a hand slams against it, stopping you. You can recognize his hand quickly, nails painted with blood, rings adorning his fingers. You do not turn around to face him.

“This moment would have been avoided if you would have resided in Seonghwa’s room, my Rose,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, near your ear. You can feel how close he is, barely an inch apart from your body. “What will I do with you now?”

“Please,” you say softly, fear coursing through you. “I will leave, and I will not tell anyone what happened on this ship. I will remain silent until the end of my days, captain.”

He laughs, “The end of your days? My Rose, my pretty Rose, the end of your days will end when this Earth no longer turns. That is quite a long time, you know. Even I would not suggest a promise like that.”

You do not respond.

“Now you will not speak to me, Rose? Will I have to force that pretty voice to speak?”

“What would you like me to say, Hongjoong? Beg for my life? I have told you endlessly that you will never have me. That I will never desire you–”

“Ah, right,” he interrupts. “But you do desire me, Rose. Did you think that I did not know of your love for me, for us all? Denying yourself the pleasure of being mine will only hurt you in the end. Here you are, begging for me to let you go. I thought you said you would never beg me?”

Anger courses through your body, stopping immediately once you feel his fingers brush against your neck. You turn around quickly, stumbling when you see his eyes. His free hand catches you with ease, holding you close. His eyes are completely white, a devilish grin on his lips as you stare at him. He lets you go, his hand still holding the door closed. You move away from him, glancing at the kitchen door. There is no exit, the only one is where Hongjoong stands. He moves his palm off the door, crossing his arms against his chest, head tilted as he stares at you. His shirt is still unkempt, torso exposed to you. You hate that your mind lingers on the image too long. He seems to know as well, his grin only widening.

“What will I do with you, my Rose?” he frowns.

“Let me go.”

His brows furrow. “Let you go? You’ve chosen to stay here with us. Your family. You made that decision on your own.”

“I will be delighted to leave your presence, Hongjoong. In fact, in a few days time, I will be gone. And we will never have to see each other again.” And you hope for that to be true. Even standing here now, your feelings are confusing. Your desire and care for him swirling into your fear of him. How could you possibly fear someone you love? Distance is what you want, need. Staying here any longer will just make it worse.

Hongjoong rests his body against the wood of the ship. “Will you? But your eyes have been cast elsewhere. Seonghwa has taken your fancy instead of I. How could you leave any of them behind?”

“Has he? Because I do recall a good night’s toss in the quarters of Wooyoung. Or was it Yeosang? Jongho? I cannot keep count,” you quirk your brow, fingers brushing against the familiar necklace. His eyes follow your movements, tongue moistening his lips. “Me agreeing to be aboard this ship was never a promise that I will lay with one man. And why would I, when there is an endless supply?”

“You treat us like goods?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you move closer, hand resting a breath away from his. It is a calculated risk you're taking, standing near him so close. But for the chance to leave him, moving closer to the door, you have to. “I treat you like treasure.”

His eyes widen, brown eyes slowly appearing once more. His hand reaches up, pressing your palm against his chest. You feel how warm he is, how human he feels. His eyes meet yours, curious. There are these brief moments you have with Hongjoong, the moments you believe that he is not as bad as he makes himself out to be. That deep, beneath the centuries of feeding on humans, being cursed to live this long life, deep within there is still the human Hongjoong. And in these brief moments, it utterly terrifies you. The slips make you see him, and make you fall deeper into his hands.

“Is it as hard as you make it to be to love me,” his eyes widen, lids heavy as his gaze moves to your lips. “Will it be so difficult to yearn for me as I do for you?”

“No,” you whisper. “And that is why I cannot.”

“Will you continue to pretend there is nothing? Will you push me away further and further, until the end of time?” he asks, his other hand tilting your chin up, your gaze meeting his. “Do you not see? I will fight anything, anyone for you to look at me as you look at the others. For you to give me that sweet smile of yours. Darling, what will I do?” his head tilts closer to you, eyes stuck on your lips.

Your resolve is breaking. You can feel the pumping of his heart beneath your hand.

“I love you,” he says. “Love me.”

“Captain–”

“Love me,” he insists. He moves his hand from yours, taking steps forward. Your back is pressed against the wall, his hands cupping your face. Want lingers on his face, dripping from his gaze. “The enormity of my desire cannot only consume me. There must be some semblance of it in you if you have yet to pull away from me. Tell me, Rose. Tell me.”

“I cannot–”

“You cannot? Or you will not? Is it not there?”

“Captain–”

“Do not call me such a name when I am holding you like this,” he insists. “Tell me you love me, Rose. Let me hear it from your lips, not another’s. Let me in,” he whispers. “Let yourself be completely unraveled with me. Let it consume you, let it drown you so that I may be the one to help you breathe.”

No. You hate how your legs quiver underneath his heated gaze. You pull your hand off of him. The need for escaping is diminished into nothing, your satchel somewhere across the room. You are not even sure when it left your hold, too distracted with the man in front of you. Saying the word, saying it to him. That will be the end of your lying, of you pushing him away. So why are you so willing to do it?

“Rose–”

“I love you,” you say softly. His eyes glaze over, hands dropping from your chin. “I love you to the point of devastation, of fear. I love you so much that it hurts. I love you so much, that I will leave you.”

His eyes widen.

“Do you hear me, captain? I love you, but I will not let it consume me, I will not allow your sweet words to coerce me into staying here with you until the end of time,” you glance to the side, seeing the kitchen door swing open. Seonghwa stumbles out, a bandage wrapped around his neck. It pulls you back to reality. You were going to let him take over you, let him turn you into one of them. “I will be leaving. And I will find a way to save the others.”

Hongjoong is pulled out of his trance, a scowl forming on his lips. "They would have been nothing without me. Without my assistance, without my guidance."

It should not shock you the way it does, how he speaks of them. You look at Seonghwa, his gaze glued to the floor. "They're your family."

His eyes narrow, a sly smile growing on his lips. He takes a step forward just as you take one back, shrugging. Your fingers grip the silver in your hands, ignoring how the blade digs into your palm. "That is true. I was alone and wanted a family so I created my own. But that does not mean that they're entitled to everything that I enjoy. Did you truly believe that they would be with you if I did not permit it? I chose to let them indulge in you. To please you. But in the end, their needs do not matter, Rose. Because you are mine. No one else's."

"The time on sea has deluded your mind, captain. Perhaps a rest will lessen your worries. There's no need for this speech. I'm safe in their hands." Your voice trembles, revealing your true feelings. He picks up on it, leaning against the table nailed into the floor.

"You are afraid of me?" His smile drops, sympathy in his gaze. It's quite eerie how easily his emotions change. "I do not want my Rose to be afraid."

"You are not well–"

"Continue to tell that lie to yourself," His head tilts, meeting the gaze of something behind you. A hand covers yours, your head whipping to meet the new visitor. Subin looks over you, eyes focused on Hongjoong. "Your brother is soon to leave, anyway."

“He is not leaving.”

“I did not tell him to leave us, he chose on his own. I am not this manipulator that you make me out to be, Rose. A lot of decisions are made without my involvement. But I will leave you to your brother, we have much to talk about with the others,” Hongjoong tilts his head slightly, brushing past your brother. His eyes flick to Seonghwa and he immediately follows, leaving the two of you alone. Subin’s eyes move to you, sorrow within them.

“You are leaving?” You ask.

“I cannot stay in a place I am not wanted, Rose.”

“But you’ve been here for years, much longer than the few months that I have. How is it that when I am aboard, suddenly your relationships change? I…” You take a breath, calming yourself. “If my presence on this ship is causing you distress, then I am no longer welcome here. I have planned on leaving, anyway. With you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No! You can stay, I’ve overstayed my welcome, and this is not your fault, Rose. Please do not place blame on your own shoulders.” He notices the way your body shakes, fingers digging into your dress. He moves closer to you, hands on either side of your face. “I do not want you to leave because you think it is your fault.” His touch is cold, brittle. A switch from when you first learned of his relation to you. “I was never to stay by the captain’s side for long, you’ve known that from the beginning.”

“I cannot leave your side just yet,” you persist. “I know it is selfish, but we’ve just met not too long ago. Before you I thought I was alone in this world. Your presence has made me feel whole again. I will figure out a way to turn you back. I will, Subin. And we can leave this ship together. You do not have to leave me alone here.”

His brows furrow, “Alone? You have your lovers, you will never be alone.”

“They are not my family, my blood, Subin. You are. You’re my brother.”

His head tilts as he stares at you, “The captain cares for you, Rosie. He is your family just as I am. Blood does not matter, that you know first hand.”

Your brows furrow as you stare at him. His eyes are empty as he speaks his words, as if he’s not saying them on his own. “Do you truly believe I will be safe with him, compared to you?”

He nods, a grin immediately plastered against his lips. “Why not? He is the most formidable captain in history. No one will be able to hurt you when you’re on board. But if you decide that this is not for you, I will come back for you. Give him a month’s time, Rosie. Let yourself see that he does not want to do you harm. That he will protect you.”

The man who stands in front of you now is no longer your brother. Your brother would rather die than let you stay upon a ship full of creatures, of men you’ve only known for a short while. Even before he told you who he was you somehow always saw him around the ship when you were alone with one of the guys, keeping an eye on you. The Subin holding your face in his hands is not the Subin you've come to know. There’s nothing else for you to say, so you merely nod. He presses a kiss against your forehead, pulling away.

“It will all be fine,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You watch as the ghost of your brother walks out the dining hall, leaving you alone.

-

In fear of walking into another, you reside in the dining hall for the last few hours until daybreak, slumped over the wooden table. Your thoughts are too consumed to even catch a wink of sleep. What are you to do? Subin will leave on the next stop, and you planned on leaving last night, but things have changed. Could you leave Yeosang behind? Will you leave this found family of yours, trying to run after your old one? The main goal of yours was to find who killed your family, your parents. But now it seems like a lost cause with what is happening in front of you. There’s high doubt that if you told someone what Hongjoong is, they’d believe you. And it is not like you want to do such a thing; in this strange way, you wish him no harm. You love him without even wanting to.

Your lids are heavy once you hear the door open, stomping against the wooden steps. You lift your head, meeting the wary eyes of Jung Wooyoung. Without hesitance you rise to your feet, gripping the satchel. He holds up his hands, eyes moving between yours.

“I’m not going to do anything–"

“Leave me alone,” you move further into the room. He sighs, dropping his hands.

“I suppose this means you will not join us for breakfast.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, Wooyoung.”

He laughs dryly, pushing his hair away from his face. There’s little evidence of his previous state, nails clean and sharpened, hair free of grease. Even the clothing he wears has no stains on it. Is this what they become? Perfect versions of themselves? It is of no surprise that they desired this then, despite the negatives. He moves closer to the kitchen, nudging his head in the direction. “Want something for the road?”

“I am not hungry.”

The sound of your stomach growling fills the empty room. A toothy grin and minutes of convincing later, you stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching as Wooyoung cooks. You have often flattered the man on his skills, telling him that he should work at the finest restaurants in the city, not stuck feeding a ship full of hungry brigands. He always waved you off whenever you would mention it, assuring you that you’re convinced because you have not had flavorsome food in a while. So watching him work now, his swiftness clearly increased by his new condition, he looks like he relishes it more. Though you do not respond to his statements, he continues to speak on and on about things of frivolous nature. Ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Why would you pretend to be Yeosang?” You ask, watching as he places the food into the bowl. You see the briefest of hesitance as he does so, eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “What did you want to gain out of doing so?”

“Have you not noticed?” His brow raises, “You enjoy his presence much more than anyone else. The two of you compliment one another so well, I thought that you would listen to his words rather than my own. It was an imprudent attempt on my part, knowing that you would know eventually. But speaking to you about profounder topics, listening to your qualms, it is what I always sought after. I am sorry for breaking your confidence, but I do not have remorse for attempting it in the first place.”

“The you only nights ago would have stammered over those words. Now you speak your mind with ease.”

He grins, “Is it not lovely? There’s no fear of rejection, of what you might do when I say what I feel. It is freeing, being able to say each thought.”

Your heart breaks at his words. “I enjoyed you just as you were, Wooyoung. Change was never necessary in my eyes.”

“But it was in mine,” his glee drops, wooden spoon tight in his hold. “I was a shameful man, an even more shameful mate. I could not even stand on my own without the assistance of others. I let my thoughts consume me to the point where I no longer acted on things. That is why I was assigned to the kitchen. The captain knows that I was too inept for any other task. Too frightened to step up. Can you not see how much better it is, standing in front of me? I can tell you anything without that soul-crushing anxiousness looming in the back of my mind. I can speak to you without stuttering, without second-guessing my words. Is that not wonderful? Before I could only let out a sentence, now each of my words has conviction. Weight.”

He moves to step closer to you, but stops once he sees you tense. “I still have not learned my strengths yet, peach. I am terribly sorry for scaring you last night. That is the last thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I want you to love me, not to be afraid of me. Is there nothing that can make the fear go away?”

There is one thing. The only thing in the world he would not be able to do. He seems to understand that as well, expression dropping.

“I am happy for you, Wooyoung,” you say, taking the bowl off the kitchen slate. “I am happy that you’re more comfortable as you are now. But this feeling inside of me that knows it is wrong will not go away. I am sorry.”

“We are family, Rose,” he whispers, brows furrowed. “Isn’t that supposed to let you accept us as we are, despite our differences now?”

“I am sorry,” you say again, unable to comfort him. You leave the kitchen, satchel strapped to your back as you exit the dining hall. The weather is cooler this morning, bristling against your skin as you walk across the deck. Your eyes meet none as you take the steps down to your room. Just before you enter, your gaze flicks over to your brother’s door. It’s wide open. He never leaves it open. You put your bowl to the side and peek in.

All of his belongings are gone. You enter, eyes scanning each and every surface you can. You open his draws, swing his closet door open. Nothing. It is as if he was never here in the first place. He would not have left without saying goodbye to you. Subin wouldn’t—

You tense. Maybe he would, now. You leave his room, hearing someone else walking down the steps. But you ignore their presence entirely, grabbing your bowl and unlocking your room. You gasp when you see who is inside, bowl falling from your hands. He reaches for it just before it hits the floor, sighing in relief.

Mingi stands, his height looming over yours as he holds out your bowl. For a moment you forget what is happening, why you’re so afraid. Your eyes flick to the bandage covering his neck, coated in day-old blood. Worry crosses your gaze as you take him in, his clothing soaked in red. You move around his outstretched arm, reaching up to hold your hand against his face. And in this moment, you remember.

His hand holds yours against him, a soothing hum escaping him. He is like the others, completely and utterly frigid. You can only look at him in sorrow as he holds your hand tight.

“Have you been here all night?” You ask softly.

He nods, eyes opening to meet yours. You’ve gotten used to the red of them on the others. “I know you were worried, so I came here right after I awoke. Capt’ told me you would be here waiting for me, but you were not. I should not have worried since there are but so many places to go on this ship, but I could not help it. I decided to stay until you came back.”

Perhaps the change affects them all differently. Here you stand in front of Mingi, sure that this is the same man you’ve known. You rest your head against his chest, a sigh escaping you.

“What will I do with you?” you murmur, not at all expecting a response. The exhaustion from barely getting an hour of sleep weighs on you, revelations of what’s happened slowly encasing you. Tonight you’ve drowned in terror, fear of everyone turning. Now you’re just too tired to think it all through. “I’ll speak to you soon, Mingi, alright? I just need some rest.”

“Oh,” he steps back from you, your head lifting to match his gaze. “I’ll be back later tonight, then.”

“Sure,” you give him a strained smile, watching as he walks out the door. He closes it behind him. You lock it in an instant, falling into a heap on your bed. Though there is much to think about, you let your thoughts leave you, slipping into unconsciousness.

-

You’re woken up to the sound of thunder, jolted from your rest. You wipe your eyes glancing at the small gap underneath your door. It’s no longer bright outside, and from the sound of it, it seems as if you’re stuck in a storm. The bowl to the side of you remains uneaten, and you take a bite of it, frowning at the lukewarm temperature. Though his food is always pleasant, it is better to be eaten hot rather than cold. After a few more bites, you let your mind settle, your anxious thoughts coming back tenfold.

Your brother is gone. Only Seonghwa and Yeosang have yet to turn, and you’re not too sure that the eldest is still human as of now. Mingi lurks around the corners waiting to speak to you, and Yunho is… a question in itself. You’re not sure where you stand with him. Wooyoung and San are turned as well, the latter’s whereabouts unknown. You have not seen Jongho either, though your throat tightens at even taking a glimpse of the man. And the captain. The captain that knows you’re in love with him, and might take that to his advantage. You almost slipped into his hold this morning. Being alone with him is the last thing you’d like to do.

What has gotten into you? Has residing on this ship dulled your senses? Being this troubled about men that are no longer men should have stopped everything. Once you’ve seen Hongjoong come back to life, you should have left. You had the opportunity. Why did you not just walk up that mountain and leave Jongho behind? Why are you so entangled in these men’s lives? And even now as you scold yourself, why have you not conjured up a plan to leave?

The questions only scare you. Because despite your intentions, you’re not sure you will ever leave this ship. You’re free of chains and yet you sit here, letting it all happen to you. Leaving your lady and the only home you’ve known to this maze of lies and feelings. You do not reject meeting them. Letting their happiness sink into you. Staying at your master’s home hardened you, but being on a ship with these men has softened your heart. No, you will never regret meeting all of them. You just regret not being able to save them the way they’ve saved you.

A quick change of clothing and you slip from your room. Staying inside all night is pretty ideal. You’re just very sure that one, or more, would knock on your door sooner rather than later. You take the steps up to the deck, the top eerily quiet. Once Hongjoong rid of the crew at the last stop, there’s been little noise around. You see the others often, but not like before. And now with their change, the quiet is unsettling. You should be searching for any trace of your brother, even if you’re sure he’s long gone. A quick peek over the side-railings and you notice that the ship is close to shore. How long did you sleep exactly? Freedom is just a wave away.

Laughter catches your attention, San and Yeosang walking down the deck. A burlap bag is slung over San’s shoulder, Yeosang nudging him as they speak. You cannot hear them over the loud waves crashing against the ship, a chill traveling down your spine at the temperature drop. There’s doubt that they would try steering the ship to shore now, the waves too erratic to navigate.

“Sleep evades you often,” Mingi says, standing just behind you. He apologizes quickly once he realizes that he startled you. “I waited a bit outside your door for an hour but thought against waking you. Everyone has already had dinner. I believe that Wooyoung left your plate just outside your door.”

“I honestly did not even check,” you admit, turning back to him. “I should go back then—”

“No!” His voice is louder now, catching the attention of San and Yeosang. Just as you blink he is gone, reappearing at the top of the steps, plate in hand. He holds it out to you, your eyes flicking over the rain covered food. His widen, a sheepish look crossing his face. “I did not even consider—”

“No need to fret, Mingi,” you wave him off. “I’ve already eaten when I woke. Though it is a waste for me, I am sure the livestock would not mind a bit of rainwater with their food.”

“Even as a jiāngshī, he is still just a clumsy man,” San snickers, resting his hand on Mingi’s shoulder. His gaze moves to you, smile slipping slightly. With Hongjoong, he could feel the change of emotion, the fear as you stood just by him. The drop in his expression only confirms that he feels just like his captain. You swallow, glancing to the side. Yeosang still stands there, a slight nod. You move closer to him, until you hear San’s voice.

“Will you avoid me?”

“San,” Yeosang sighs.

“Is it not a valid question? Each time one of us encounters her she shies away. You told us you would accept our change and not sway any longer. Why are you changing tune now?”

Your eyes narrow. “Am I not allowed to have fear of the unknown? Of what you may do? Did Wooyoung not tell you?” Confusion crosses his eyes. “So he has not.”

“Rose? What’s going on?” Mingi speaks up.

“Wooyoung pretended to be Yeosang while I was in Seonghwa’s quarters. He manipulated me into speaking with him, to divulge my emotions because I only do so with Yeo. He spoke about my explicit encounters with him. So forgive me if I am a bit hesitant on speaking to any of you for longer than casual conversation. If Wooyoung’s intentions have changed overnight, then I can no longer trust any of you who have become like the captain.”

You feel Yeosang’s hand brush against yours, letting your fingers fold together. He presses his lips against your temple, calming you down for a brief moment. San and Mingi watch the interaction. There is nothing but bitterness in San’s gaze, and longing in Mingi’s. You would have pushed their worries to the side right at those looks, but now… you cannot. Yeosang pulls you away from the two, leading you around the bow of the ship, down the steps to your room. He glances around once to make sure the two of you are alone, then pulls you into his arms. You tuck your face into the curve of his neck, a long, tired sigh escaping you.

“I am deeply sorry,” Yeosang says. “If I’d have known, there would have been no hesitance in me seeing you.”

“This is not your fault, Yeosang. You don’t control the actions of others. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

His expression is still heartbroken, so you reach up and hold his face in your hands, a light shake to pull him from his thoughts. “It is not your fault, Kang Yeosang. Okay? None of this is.”

“It feels as if I failed to protect you,” he admits, covering your hands with his. “It’s hard to push the thought away. If I would have known he was planning such a thing, or if it even happened at all, I would have ran to you. I just never anticipated something like this happening, it is of no wonder that you have been to yourself. Why would you want to see any of us after such an event?”

“Because I care for you all, in a bizarre and anomalous way,” you whisper softly, closing your eyes. “Yeosang, I am leaving.”

His grip on you tightens, body shaking. “I thought you said—”

“I cannot handle being here anymore. I thought I would be able to somehow conjure up good reasoning for me to stay, but there is none. I no longer belong. I cannot move past this no matter how much I want to. I’m sorry that I was not strong enough.”

He tilts your chin to meet his gaze, “You’ve always been strong, my Rose. And as you’ve done with us, I will do with you as well. If you want to leave I will not try to convince you otherwise. But the others, they will be devastated.”

“I know. That’s why I’m leaving tonight.”

If his eyes could stretch any wider they would. “Pardon?”

“I plan on leaving without telling the rest. The tides are high but I can manage with one of the smaller boats-”

“Yeo, Rose?”

Both of your eyes move to the newcomer, Wooyoung, standing idly by the door. He rubs his arms though he cannot feel cold, brows furrowed as he keeps his gaze glued to the floor. You make no move to comfort him and neither does Yeosang, his eyes sharp as Wooyoung takes another step in.

“Not now, Wooyoung,” he turns back to you. “I would rather you leave.”

He seems to crumble underneath Yeosang’s words, eyes flicking to you. In all honesty you would rather you not see him ever again, but that is unlike you. Letting a situation like this linger is the last thing you’d like. Instead, you nod, gesturing for him to move closer. He looks small, sitting at the desk on the opposite side of the room, eyes flicking back and forth as he stares at the floorboards.

“I-”

“You disgust me,” Yeosang starts. “You are a disgusting man, do you know that?”

“Yeo,” you touch his shoulder. “Let him speak.”

“Has he not spoken enough?” He scoffs, but relaxes underneath your touch.

Wooyoung sighs, stopping once he sees the look Yeosang gives him. “I made a mistake. I was being selfish, I took my new gift as an advantage. I messed up. This is no one’s fault but my own, and I am sorry that I did this to you. To the both of you. Feeling at a disadvantage because of my own selfish reasons should not have made me want to trick you, Rose. I fucked up,” he admits, eyes moving to Yeosang. “And I broke your trust. I do not expect to be forgiven, if I am ever. I let my inner thoughts take over me, let my craving for attention ruin me. I am terribly sorry, Yeosang. Rose. I am.”

You stare at him, knowing that his words ring true. But even with that, there is the chance he may do it again. You let out a light sigh, nodding. “Thank you for telling me. I’m not sure if my forgiveness will ever be given to you, but I accept your words as true. If anything like this happens again, I will not be as calm as I am now.” Your tone is sure. “Do you understand, Wooyoung?”

His eyes widen as he nods quickly. Yeosang does not say anything and you do not expect him to, playing with his fingers. “We’ve known each other for over a decade, friend,” he whispers, eyes glued to the floor. “You are one of my closest friends, and despite this situation it will not change between us. I have accepted you as you are now without hesitance. I do not appreciate you hurting Rose this way, using my voice to attempt manipulation. I know your words are filled with sorrow, Woo, I know that better than anyone. Please do not… do not make me no longer trust you. Do not make me do that.”

“I won’t,” Wooyoung says, reaching over. His hand touches his. You look between them, their fingers curling into each other’s. Yeosang looks up at him, an indiscernible look in his eyes, Wooyoung matching him. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” Yeosang breaths, closing his eyes briefly. “I plan on resting with Rose tonight if she so wishes, so do not wait for me if I do not come promptly.” His eyes move to yours. You nod, a smile on your lips. Your escape is only paused momentarily.

-

The time between then and now, Yeosang’s arms wrapped around you, Wooyoung on the opposite side of his. You in fact, never expected to be entrapped in their embrace, still angry at Wooyoung’s actions. Though you do not forgive him just yet, letting him rest in his room alone is never what you wanted. You could see from his eyes that he yearned to stay the night. So you suggested it and he agreed quickly, tucking himself beneath the blankets. You only laughed. And now here you are, the sun bright against your skin, staring at the open door. Mingi stands there, waving to you as he glances at the two men in your bed. You attempt to move, only pulled closer into Yeosang’s chest.

“Will we stay here for the remainder of the morning sun?” You whisper to him. His breath tickles your neck as he laughs. “You will have me until the end of time if you would like, Yeosang. But I must go.”

His laugh stops. The two of you have not discussed further your revelation, the double-meaning behind your words only making you nervous.

“Please do not leave,” he whispers. That seems to catch the attention of the other men in the room, Wooyoung stirring just behind him. Mingi’s brows furrows, glancing between you and him. “We can work this out-”

“This is not a public discussion.”

“Are you leaving?” Mingi asks. “You told me only nights ago-”

“For fuck’s sake,” You huff, pulling yourself from Yeosang’s arms. “Yes, I am leaving, okay? And I am sure this conversation will not remain between us all, so now I have to leave quickly.”

“What must we do to convince you?” Wooyoung asks, quickly standing up from his resting place. His hair is wild and silly, and if it were not for the circumstances you would laugh at it. But you can only shake your head, reaching down to grab your satchel. “The waves are too high, Peach. You may die before escaping-”

“Do not try to convince me; you will fail just as I have failed to convince all of you. Leave it be. Nothing will change my mind.”

“What will you do? Run to your brother? He is no longer in that city, Rose. He has left with his friends. It is a very small chance you will find him.”

You turn to Mingi, glaring. “I do not care.”

“Will you stay for Yeosang?” Wooyoung asks. “Is that enough?”

“If he so wanted, he could come with me.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened, “You would let me go with you? I- they are my family, Rose. I would not leave, even if I so desired.”

“And I know that,” you say softly. “I never suggested it because I know you would not leave them to come with me. And that is okay.”

“Why do you care for him and not for us?” Wooyoung’s voice rises in volume. “You told Jongho you loved us all. You said that, and yet here you are with him. What is the difference? What makes him different in comparison, Rose? Why can you not love us as you do him?”

You’ve avoided, moved around the truth. “I cannot love people who are dead, Wooyoung.”

He stills. Mingi, who has not spoken for a while, breaks the silence. “Because we have turned into this, you will no longer love us?”

“As I have told Yunho,” you say, turning back to him. “Everyone that I have loved is dead. The only person I have left is Yeosang. You cannot fault me for favoring him at this very moment.”

“We are standing right in front of you, speaking to you, and you dare say we are dead? I have never felt more alive, Rose. We are evolved, we are something else entirely.”

You shake your head, “You are not alive, and we all know that. You died that night Hongjoong stabbed you in your neck, Mingi.”

“Then what?” he swallows. “You no longer love us.”

“I love who you were. Not who you are now.”

Wooyoung laughs loudly, startling you. “Is that so? You no longer love us because of a change overnight? Is that it? You will not even attempt to try and move past it, is that it?” His eyes flick to Yeosang. “I have accepted my friend’s decision to stay as a human because I love him. I will not want him to do anything he does not want. I accepted that I will not have my best friend by my side for eternity. I planned on… convincing him sooner or later. But your words are strange to me, Rose,” Wooyoung moves closer to Yeosang. He rests his hand on his shoulder. “I wonder if your feelings will change as suddenly as they have for us if he turned right now.”

Yeosang tenses up. He attempts to move but Wooyoung tightens his hold. “I cannot live without my best friend, Yeosang. And Rose says she will no longer love you if you were anything other than human. Shall we test that?”

“Wooyoung.”

He holds his hand against the edge of the dresser, dragging it across harshly. His wrist begins to bleed as he presses it against Yeosang’s mouth, forcing the blood into his mouth. He gags against his hold, desperately trying to get him to stop. Tears roll down his cheeks, eyes flicking to yours.

"Stop!" You push against Mingi's hold, but it's of no use. Wooyoung grips Yeosang's body, forcing his wrist against his mouth. Crazed eyes hold him close, fingers almost piercing Yeosang's shoulder with how elated he is.

“This is all for you, Rose. We will test that will of yours.”

You cry, falling to your knees, unable to do anything. Mingi continues his whispering of comforting words to help you calm, but you only feel your heart breaking. The one man who wanted to stay by your side, the only one who understands what a curse this is–

Wooyoung lifts your knife you left on your shelf, stabbing it into his chest. The stress in your body overwhelms you, body shaking as you lose consciousness.

-

Yeosang has not opened his door since that morning.

It’s been several weeks, and you have not seen him at all. The need to leave has significantly decreased into nothing. Your brother is long gone, and your Yeosang is no longer human. And despite how cold you’ve treated the rest, he’s never wanted this. He begged against Wooyoung’s hold, begging for him to stop. But the two of you trusted him too easily, and thought of him as the old Wooyoung. It is your fault for letting him stay that night. None of this would have happened. If you let him leave, you would be gone. Perhaps Yeosang would have joined you. But now you’re too afraid to leave him here alone, and too scared to attempt to leave yourself.

It was either Mingi or Wooyoung who told the rest of your plan. After that, none of them left you alone for more than a few seconds. Even while you were cleaning yourself off, you opened the door to one of them waiting for you. Joining the crew now feels more like you’re restrained against your will to stay on the ship. And the one piece of calamity, humanity that you had left is no longer human. And you cannot see him even if you desire it. Which you do, desperately.

“He will come around to open his door for you, Rose,” Jongho says as he watches you eat, nursing a glass of blood. You still have not gotten used to the metallic smell surrounding you. Sometimes they left the ship while it was docked, stumbling back on with glass jars filled with blood. One night you heard screams on board and you could not fall asleep, knowing that just a few doors down they were killing a human. All of the men you love turning into these… creatures. Even Seonghwa, the gentle, calm Seonghwa you could not await to see, scares you a bit. You were never afraid of him, even as a jiāngshī. Now you cannot help but jump when you do not hear his silent steps. Meet his red eyes.

“Has he fed?” You ask softly.

“... It was very little. The jars we bring onboard are for him. Wooyoung keeps him company, even if he does not like it.”

“What will happen to me, Jongho?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will one of you come to me, force your blood down my throat so that I become one of you? Is that what I am to look forward to?”

He shakes his head, “No-”

“Do not sit here and tell me that you will never, that none of them will never when I clearly know that it would happen. I have witnessed it in front of me. If Wooyoung turned his best friend of years into a jiāngshī there is little hope for me. Months are miniscule in comparison,” You rub your face, dropping your spoon into the bowl. “Why will you not let me go?”

“We want you to love us,” he says, placing his glass on the side. “You have grown to love us as thieves, why can you not love us as jiāngshī? It is not like we've not killed before. This should be more reasonable. We are only doing it now to live. Is that not better in your eyes?”

Oh, they all have lost their minds. “Do you hear yourself?”

“It is not unreasonable, Rose. We killed and murdered countless times prior, even if you did not want to see it. We were never good men, and I am sorry that upsets you but nothing has changed except that we are now above being a human.”

“Hongjoong is cursed, Jongho!” You stand. “He died a horrible death and turned into this monster because of his wrongdoings, and now he has dragged the rest of you along with him! How can you not see this?” You hold your face in your hands, dragging your palms along it. “You are mad. You all are mad and of no sound mind, and I will not be a part of your delusions. I will not succumb to your madness. I will have none of it.”

You turn to leave and he stands. You stop, turning back around. “You will not follow me.”

He sighs, “You know that I do not have a choice in the matter.”

“Then finally make one, Jongho, instead of following your captain with your tail between your legs.” You leave him alone in the dining hall, stomping up the steps. You see a few of the men out and about, working on their duties on the ship. You pay none of them any mind, ignoring how the rain coats your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

Giving up on leaving does not mean you will tolerate their words.

"We will do everything we must to make her stay alive, long enough to turn her."

You stop in your tracks, turning to the Captain’s door. Several of them stand inside, none of them noticing you just a few steps away. You swing the door open fully, all of their eyes meeting yours. Curious, red eyes. You stand at the doorway, pointing your finger in the direction of the captain. "You are… saying these things about me. And for all of you to listen? I cannot comprehend exactly what your thought process is, but I will not be forced into something that I do not want."

"It's for your own good, my Rose," Hongjoong says simply. "You will learn to enjoy it."

"I will never enjoy drinking your blood, a human’s blood. You…" You clench your fist. "You will have to tie me down before I'd agree."

Hongjoong stares. You've never been able to read his expression, often clouded by the permanent smirk on his lips. But this time, it slowly molds into a sneer, eyes glowing. "If I must."

The others don't say a word. Not even Yeosang, his jaw clenched as he stares at the floorboards. Fear courses through you. What were you thinking? Barging in has only sped up the process of them turning you against your will. You could have held out longer, could have escaped and locked yourself away to die. Instead, you're faced with seven jiāngshī and their master pulling the strings. Waiting to tie you along with them.

You turn on your heel and run, stumbling slightly at your swift turn. You hear nothing behind you. You take a curious glance back, absolutely stopping completely in fear. Just steps away are the others, jumping over barrels and other obstacles to get to you. Panic courses through your body as you maneuver around objects in your way, jumping over the railing to the floor below. Pain hits your body in just that instant but you push through, throwing yourself into your room door and locking it behind you. You lift your slacks.

The shape of your ankle is twisted in an awkward position, tears rolling down your cheeks from the immense pain. Knocks on your door only make your fear worsen.

"We can break it down, Rose. All of this is unnecessary."

"I will not be put into a position that I do not want," you say back to San, rubbing your ankle. Your teeth dig into your lip as you hiss, head throbbing. "You all can fuck yourselves."

"Don't speak to me that way." You can hear how his voice cracks, but you don't care. Not now. Not when your life's on the line. You glance around the room, eyeing the small window to the deck. You're sure the others must be somewhere near where you are, but you have little options. You lift the latch, halfway through just as San opens the door. His stomps pick up but you've already slipped through, pain rushing through you as you grunt, slowly making your way to the opposite end of the ship. You hold your knife tight in your hand. The last thing you desire is killing any of them. But if it comes down to it, you would do what you must to stay alive. Your body hits the railing. Trying to steady yourself, you place pressure on your bad ankle and cry out, falling to your knees. Several footsteps make it closer and closer to you. You can feel your blood rushing to your ears, unable to control the fear.

"What have you done to yourself, my dear Rose?" Yunho whispers softly, taking a step to you. You shake your head, moving further into the railing. Just on the opposite side is the ocean, waves crashing against the sides. "Don't get too close, you might–"

"That is what I am planning on, my dear," you can't hide the sourness in your tone, a scowl on your lips. Your eyes shift to the next few men appearing just behind him. "Leave me alone, do not come near me."

"You expect us to move away when you're risking your life at this very moment?" Jongho asks, shaking his head. "We are not leaving you."

"Then I will leave you all," you slip a leg between the railings, panic immediately flashing in their eyes. "If I am to die, it will be on my terms."

"You would rather die than be with any of us?"

"I don't want this eternal life you speak of!" You shout over the rushing waters. "I want to live as a human. Why are you so desperate to force my hand? You all have changed. This decision you've made has changed you," your eyes shift to Hongjoong. Unlike the rest, he hangs back. Watching. Anticipating. An irritating grin on his lips. Almost eerie the way he smiles. "You've all become different iterations of that man. I do not enjoy it."

"I am still the same," Seonghwa says softly. "We are still the same, Rose."

"The Seonghwa I once knew would have not forced me to do something I did not desire. You would not have watched me die. Do you not remember how you felt when you found out Sejun killed me? You were heartbroken, distraught. How could you stand there and tell me nothing has changed?" You lean forward. "You scare me, Seonghwa."

His body crumbles, knees hitting the wooden floorboards. His body shakes as he takes in your words.

"We can remove the fear once you turn. You'll no longer feel it–"

"Do you not get it? I want to feel fear. I want these emotions. They are what make me human. Make me alive,” You look at Hongjoong. “It is not surprising that you are the way you are. If I knew you were a jiāngshī then, I would have never entered this ship."

A hand grips your arm just as you’re distracted, pulling you away from the railing. You scream, thrashing against Jongho’s hold as he holds you close. He looks at you with sadness. You notice blood coating his lips, glancing down at his hand. A deep, jagged cut shines in the light, the rain diluting how it looks. You kick and scream against him, crying as he holds you.

“Jongho, please don’t, please. I’ll listen, I’ll stay, please don’t turn me into it. Please Jongho-”

“I’m sorry Rose, it’ll be quick okay? Really quick, I will not let you suffer.” He pushes his hand against your mouth as you thrash, crying out. Your hands grip his arms, gagging as you accidentally swallow his blood. He pulls away, letting you fall to the wooden boards. You gag, coughing, desperate to get it out of your body. Realizing that you cannot, you try to stand, only for him to stand above you, holding the same silver knife that you just had in your hands. His eyes are wide. He is smiling.

Smiling as he stands over your body.

“It’ll be quick, Rose.” He brings it against your neck as you gasp, your screaming cut off. You feel it sink into your skin, gripping it tightly. Hongjoong moves around him, crouching next to you. His eyes flick over yours, ubiquitous glee radiating from his gaze. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead as the pain consumes you. Just as you feel the brush of him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

-

Cold.

That is all you feel as you sit in your room, ignoring the knocks, the calls. Eventually they all left you alone, letting your thoughts consume you. You can feel how the cold seeps into your skin, the hardness of your body, the strange blue tint of your skin. It is not that noticeable in the dark, but moreso in the light. As if you were ever illuminated by moonlight. You touch the bandage against your neck, the smell of your dried blood making your stomach growl. You felt faint at the smell, but now all you can think of is drinking it. Letting the taste coat your tongue, spread in your body. The craving is overwhelming, clouding your mind.

Your door opens. You could smell him before he entered the room. Smell.

“Rose-”

You shut your eyes. “The last person I want to see is you.”

You can smell the jar of blood in his hands, the glass doing nothing to mask it. Your nose flares, sinking yourself further into your bedsheets. “Leave.”

“You have to drink-”

"I thought I could live," you say through the fabric. "I thought that after my wretched and tiresome life, I'd finally live. That I'd finally found my family, and we could be happy just being in the presence of one another. I begged for happiness my whole life and just when I've gotten it, it's pulled from my grasp. And I'm not sure if any of you can understand how it feels to be abandoned your whole life and having a semblance of happiness chewed up and spat out in your face. Yeosang and I are suffering greatly, and all you can do is beg for me to enjoy being unable to live."

"You have all the time in the world to live. You've been given more time–"

"I did not want this, why can't you understand me? Why?" you suck in a breath, eyes burning. Jongho tries to take a step closer to you but you move further into your bed. "Leave me."

"Please–"

"Leave me Jongho, or you will never be able to lay eyes on me again." Your words are sure. You can see how he hesitates, fingers opening and closing as he tries to navigate his scattered thoughts. Only a moment later does he leave you be, shutting the door. Right when he does it you fall to the floor. Your body lets out a scream unlike anything you've ever felt. Body shaking, head throbbing. The burning of your throat does not subside, neither does the ache in your stomach. You feel starved. The door swings open moments later. You already know who it is, not bothering to meet his gaze. He pulls you into his arms, the tremble of his body matching yours.

"I am so terribly sorry, my love," Yeosang cradles you close to his body, just as cold as yours. "I am so sorry he pulled your choice away from you."

"I don't want this, Yeosang," you cry into his chest. "I want to be a human, I don't want this."

“I’m so so sorry,” he whispers. “I could not stop it even if I desired it. Wooyoung, since he has turned me, has control over me. He told me to stay while they dealt with you. I had no other choice,” he tries to sniffle but it only comes out as a dry cough. “I am so sorry they’ve done this to you.”

Yeosang stays with you, never asking you to drink blood once. You know that he already has - he told you explicitly - but he insists that he will not do it to you. You lift your head to meet his gaze, slightly startled at the sight. Though you should have expected to see the familiar tint shining back at you, it startles you. Yeosang’s gaze is only filled with sorrow. You’ve found out quickly that tears will not form no matter how much you want them too, matching his gaze.

He presses his forehead against yours, sighing softly. “They will come for you, and I cannot do anything about it.”

“What for?”

He does not explain further, but you already know. You grip his shirt between your fingers, thinking. “I will leave before they can.”

Yeosang left soon after that to tend to his duties. You press yourself further into the corner, ignoring how Mingi paced back and forth in your room. You feel the burn in your throat, the need for blood. You’ve ignored it successfully so far, but you can feel how it weighs on you. The longer you do not drink the more it hurts.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” He paces back and forth across from you, glancing at your figure. “If you just let me aid you, then—”

“I told you countless times, love,” Your breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. They’ve reiterated that there is no need for breathing since you’ve turned into this, but you cannot bother to care. “My mouth will not be filled with another’s blood. I refuse it.”

“Then you would rather die?” Mingi stops, brows furrowed. “You would rather end your life here than continue to spend it with us?”

“This form of mine is not natural. We as humans are to die a normal death, not stay forever. Hell is on Earth already, why would I want to linger longer? I have lost everything.”

“You still have us. Is that not enough?” Mingi steps closer to you, crouching on your side. Your senses are heightened now, the smell of blood lingering on his figure. If you look closely, you can see a bit of it still beneath his fingernails. “Are we not enough?”

“Don’t make me answer that,” your voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes; are they just the same as yours? If you do not die, will you have to wear darkened glasses your whole existence? Unable to meet the gaze of others in fear that they may torture you? “I was forced into this life. Do not expect me to enjoy it. I cannot even… I cannot even desire the taste of fruit anymore. The one indulgence I have given myself since my family perished. He has taken everything from me.”

“It was a mistake—”

“Do not lie to me,” you sit up, gaze down to him. Fear crosses his face as you meet his eyes. “He could not hide the pleasure in his eyes before he bit me. He took it upon himself to make the decision for me. You know that I did not want this, Mingi. So do not ask me to pretend. I won’t.”

“Then…” his voice is hush, hands reaching for yours. You let him have his time, his moment of vulnerability with you. He rests his head against your hands. Your Song Mingi was always a warm man, consistently testy about the temperature on the ship. But as your hand caressed his skin, all you felt was bitter cold. “What can I do?”

You close your eyes, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead. Chill.

“You can let me die. And you can tell him to never see me again.”

He shakes his head, “Yunho is coming. He will bring you to town for you to indulge. You will no longer suffer, Rose.” He smiles, lip quivering. “You will live.”

“I will not allow that,” you say sternly. Yunho steps inside just as you utter the words, Mingi looking back at him. Without any words, he moves around Mingi, pulling you from your bed. You scream and tug on him as he takes you from your room. You spot the eyes of the others watching him, hope in their eyes. You struggle against Yunho’s arms as he drags you from the ship, his strength overpowering yours with ease. Despite how deep your fingers dig into his flesh he does not let it stop him. Your bare feet drag against the wooden platform, splinters digging into your soles. Your best efforts are only mute with his determination.

“You will eat,” he says solemnly. “This would be easier if you would cooperate. It’s not as immoral as you make it seem.”

“I do not want to harm.”

He spins your body towards him, eyes darkened as they meet yours. “Everyone could die on this island and I would barely give it a second thought. Do you think I care about their lives? What harm you will do to them? Do you?”

His hands encase your wrists, glare seeping into your gaze. “I'd relish in this city burning before I watch you starve yourself because you’re too frightened to drink some blood, Rose. If I have to force your face into the concrete as I pour it down your throat, I will. By the end of this night you will be choking on it.”

“Hongjoong does not agree—”

Yunho laughs, eyes wild. “Whose idea do you think it was to bring you out here? If it was not me dragging you it would have been one of the others. Just accept it.” He throws you to the ground. You cough up dirt, crying as he drags you through the dark. The city is quiet. You cannot fathom how not one person leaves their home to hear the commotion, ignoring your screams.

“This is a thief’s city, Rose. They all hear you but they could not care less. It is just like a lullaby to them, another whisper in the night. Ah, here we go.” He stops at a small field. You look, seeing two parents at a bench, watching their daughter play in the sand. He smiles, glancing down at you. “Looks like we’ve found your dinner, Rose.”

You look at them speaking in low tones, laughing by themselves. You shake your head, cries emerging from you as you fight against him. It is hopeless in the end as he tosses you just in front of the bench. You cough against the sand, wiping your lips. The father looks startled, crouching down.

“Oh miss, are you alright?” His wife asks, handing you her handkerchief. You ignore it, your fingers digging into the sand. The pulsing of their hearts fill your ears, the thought of their blood on your tongue causing your mouth to go dry. You can hear their daughter giggling in the distance as they try to help you. Her fingers touch your skin, a small squeal escaping her lips. Thump.

“You’re so cold! How long have you been out here?” She asks, concern etched in her words. Thump.

“Please,” you beg, not daring to meet their eyes. “Run, please.”

“Here honey, have some tea,” She holds out her small bottle, gesturing for you to take it in your hands. Thump. You shake your head, unable to move from your spot. “It will be alright.”

The father yells, the familiar screams that you’ve heard for nights on end echoing in the dark. His wife turns to him just as you look up. Yunho has already torn out his neck, the wife yelling as she stands. Her cries should frighten you, push you away. But the smell of blood overwhelms your senses, filling every part of your head.

It is at that moment when you lose yourself.

"She's a child, Rose," Yunho’s grip on your forearm pulls you away from your bloodthirsty senses. Your eyes meet the young girl, her lip quivering as the two of you stand there. She's a child. She's probably not much older than you were when your parents died. You look at the carnage you left behind, the body parts scattered about. Was that her parents? You don't remember anything, you can barely remember feeding at all. Yunho pulls your focus away, dragging you back. "It's okay, we were all like this our first time."

Child. You were close to murdering a child. You can still hear her heartbeat in your ears, thumping rapidly as Yunho shuts the door to the ship. When did you arrive? How much time has passed? You fall to your knees, staring at the blood coating your hands.

"Did I kill her parents?"

"Rose…"

"Did I kill her fucking parents, Yunho?" You grip his slacks. Though he does not confirm it, you can see it from the look in his eyes. How he gazes at you with utter pity. "I ruined her."

"It was a mistake. We shouldn't have let you out this early–"

"I ruined her life. I couldn't control myself, and I orphaned her, Yunho," you crumble to the floor, body shaking. "I made her lose everything."

"Hey, hey, get out of your head–"

"I hurt her family, and I almost killed her. And I enjoyed it," you gasp, hands flying to cover your lips. "I enjoyed it, Yunho," your voice cracks, eyes shaking. He lifts you from the floor with ease, carrying you up the ladder. The carnage flashes in your head over and over, the scared look on her face only pulling you deeper into your thoughts. You jump at the sound of a door opening, Yunho placing you on the seat. A warm hand touches you, lifting your chin.

Your gaze meets his, his captain’s staring back at you. Blood stains his white linen shirt as he stares down at you, hat thrown to the ship floors. The others stand behind him, their attire covered with it as well. He looks at you with concern, but you’re gasping, hands shaking as you stare at them. Red. Red between the nails, dripping onto the wood below. Flashes of red over and over again in your head. Screams echoing just behind it.

“I killed them,” you say through sobs, body trembling. “They were screaming and I killed them, Joong.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Just take a breath Sea-”

“They were begging for their lives and I killed them!” You yell, desperately wiping your hands against the wooden boards. “I’m a killer. I’ve hurt innocent people. I won’t ever be forgiven. I cannot. I cannot be forgiven.” Your words begin to mix, thoughts taking over instead. You feel a cool hand touch your thigh and you jump back, turning to look at them.

Seonghwa looks down at you, wet streaks on his face. “You are not a murderer.”

“I can’t… I can’t…” you cry out, your hand covered in splinters with the way you’re dragging it across the wood. But it doesn’t hurt in the slightest, only frightening you more. “I’m a monster.”

“Dare you call yourself that? After everything we have done to make you this way? Everyone, leave,” Hongjoong’s brows furrow. “Do you know what I have done to make you come here?” Hongjoong grip is tight as he drags you around his desk. You do not utter a word in fear of agitating him. He lets go of your hand, swinging open the cabinet just behind his desk. What you presumed would be cartons of wine is instead, portraits. He waits patiently as you move closer, eyeing the photos he displays. Your eyes widen, noticing a particular man that looks oddly familiar. Staring longer, all of them do. The man who winked at you in the marketplace while you were with Jongho, every single man who previously spoke to you aboard this ship. Sejun rests there as well, along with other conquests of yours before arriving on the ship. You try moving back but Hongjoong blocks your path. He points to every single one, eyes wild as they meet yours.

“All of them tried to touch my treasure, some did,” he adds, a twitch in his lip. “But in the end they all perished. Some more so than others. Despite their sour appearance, all of them tasted quite pleasant. A shame that your mother walked in on me killing your father. She was just part of the aftermath.”

He lets go of your arm, and you fall to your knees. You can feel the pressure in your temples, the throbbing all consuming. Even as he speaks you can barely hear through the anger and sadness swimming through your body, chest tight enough to barely let you breathe. Hongjoong touches you and you haven’t the will to push him away, eyes meeting him. Odd how there is reputance in his irises, sadness as he meets yours. Mocking your own. You cannot speak even if you would like to, his fingers all too hot, all too burning against your cool skin.

“It’s okay,” he whispers against your temple. His arms slowly wrap around you, cradling your trembling body against his chest. He hums softly, his cheek pressed against your forehead. He begins to sing an eerily familiar tune. The same one your mother used to sing to you as a child when you were upset. It does anything but calm you, your body tensing as he continues to hum it. “Your mother used to love when I sang this to her Rose,” he starts. “She told me I had a beautiful voice. She loved me, you know. It is unfortunate that she disappeared that night. It was only luck that I found her at the market when you were a young woman, with another man. He had to die, do you see now, Rose? He took my treasure away from me. I am so glad you look just like her,” he holds his face against yours. “It is as if nothing has changed.”

You sob without tears, pushing against his chest. He only holds you tighter, your immortal strength nothing in comparison to his. “Stop-”

“She told me to stay away from you Rose, but how could I? You look just like her. And now you will stay like this until the end of time. I will cherish every moment I have with you,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I even killed Wooyoung’s brother once I found out what he did to you. I did this all for you.”

Wooyoung’s brother? “What are you saying?” You cough, “I never heard of his brother.”

“Oh, did he not tell you?” Hongjoong’s lips lift. “Your old lover, Sejun, Rose. He was Wooyoung’s hyung. His flesh and blood. He begged for me to not throw him off, but he hurt my Rose. Wooyoung is lucky that I merely threw him into the sea, and not tortured the man.”

The overload of information only makes you sink deeper into yourself. You’ve fallen in love with the man who killed your parents. Who was obsessed with your mother to the point where he let his feelings merge to you. Deluded himself into thinking that you were just another version of her. And now you find out that Sejun, the man who you’ve hated, was Wooyoung’s brother. How could you look at him in the eyes now, knowing this? Knowing that with your fast tongue, you’ve killed his family?

“Have you calmed down now, Rose?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. “If you’re okay, I’ll let you go back to your quarters. I know you’ve had a long night.”

You only nod, and he lets you go. Every muscle in your body wants to run away from him, but the fear of what he might do stops you from doing so. You slowly make your way to the door.

“And Rose?”

You turn to him. A grin is carved into his face. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

You swallow, nodding. You expect him to force you to say it back, but he only gives you his back, silently resting himself against his chair. You open the door and step out, the rain splattering against your cheek as you make your way across the deck. It scares you how you cannot feel the cold of the rain, the breeze hitting your skin with no shivers down your spine. There’s nothing you can do. If you run, Hongjoong will catch you. If you hide, he will find you. Your mother avoided him for several decades, but she was found, and she perished because of it. The only reason you were spared was because of your relation to her. You are sure Hongjoong would have drained you of blood just like your family. There is only one option left.

You will no longer be on this Earth anymore.

Your steps are slow as you descend down to your room, a creak echoing around the room. Your items are thrown about. The necklace your family gave you were of age, your father’s watch. Belongings from your old master’s house. Subin’s handwritten note tucked in between your pillow and mattress. You reach for it, finger dragging along his handwriting. You wanted to see him again, learn more about his upbringing, his life before this ship. It is unfortunate that you will never get the chance to.

If you could cry you would, but Jongho took that away from you. And even if he hadn’t, you are sure one of the others would have done so.

The knock on your door pulls you away from your sorrow briefly, eyes flicking to the newcomer. Seonghwa stands there, a strained smile on his lips when your eyes meet his.

“Are you alright, Rose? How about we drop that knife, hm?”

You look down at your hands, the silver flashing back at you. You don’t remember grabbing it, don’t remember covering it with the strange mixture Yeosang gave you days prior. You shake your head as you meet his eyes. “No.”

“Rose, we cannot make any hasty decisions-” He steps forward but stops once you press it against your chest, hand trembling. “Rose, please-”

“I cannot do this anymore, Seonghwa,” you bit your lip. “I want to cry and I cannot even shed tears if I wanted to. I can’t feel, Seonghwa. I cannot feel anything. I cannot even feel fear when I hold this against me. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I cannot.”

“Please,” he practically begs, falling to his knees. “I… I cannot lose you, Rose.”

“Do you know what he has done? Do you?”

Seonghwa says nothing. That is enough of an answer for you.

“I have been searching endlessly for the people who killed my family. And here I am, foolishly falling for the man who did it. Falling in love with the crew who knew what he did. And I am angry, I am more than angry. But if anything, I just feel pathetic for ever thinking that I found my new family. People that cared for me. It was all a lie. Just because Hongjoong wanted me so badly because he could not have my mother for himself.”

“If we can just talk about it-”

“I have done enough talking,” You press it harder against you, gasping. It pierces your skin with ease, Seonghwa immediately coming to your side. He tugs on your hands as you press it deeper. The blood you consumed earlier spills from the wound, staining your blouse.

“Rose!” He yells, tugging harshly. You cover his hand with your free one, embracing his panicked gaze. “Stop!”

“I would not have asked anyone else to be here with me when I die, Seonghwa. Please let me go.”

“No, no,” he begs, pulling again. You pull back, the knife immediately plunging into your heart. “No!”

tags: @revehosh @mrcarrots @belletiny @sansblkgirlfriend @hwadump @honeyedtalisman @atzcoke @glitterhongjoong @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marievllr-abg @arkive78 @dysftopia @kpopnightingale @wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines @atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira @wommypeaches @avantalem @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @toxicccred @xciiiomwliah @madelinelina @kirooz @a-tiny-teez @tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z @yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @spiderrenjunfics @aeoliannie​ @tannie13 @leeknowsalot @xshansimsx @seojonneh @shingene @justconniez @mingi-banana @anushka-k @nightmarej1n @watamotee33 @dear-dreamie @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest @jaxavance @malyxsoulpersonal @az-con @charreddonuts @beautysirens @sunukissed @lixpixstix

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Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙫. 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙨

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Sept 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

After a shower and light breakfast of hangover soup, Minho is rather more chipper than his waking state suggested he had any right being.

He’s curled up in the single armchair, laptop balanced on his knees, earbuds in. From teen emo fantasy to domestic dream, he’s all fluffy ash-blonde and clear skin, freshly washed loungewear and warmth. Make-believe boyfriend. He’s also content to let you dominate the television, taking an earphone out when the drama peaks; it’s never in short supply where Christine is concerned. You rather like that Crishelle doesn’t take her shit lying down. The jury’s still out on Mary.

Much of the morning passes in comfortable silence, his humming and occasional dance ticks catching your attention when the lives of the disgustingly rich and famous fail to.

“Oh,” he suddenly emotes, blinking at his phone.

“What?”

“Jisung texted me.”

You drop the duvet thread you were fiddling with. “What?”

“Han Jisung. Texted me?”

Struggling with the weight of the duvet, you manage to sit upright, stoked enough to mostly ignore the way your head smarts in protest of the movement.

“3racha?”

He nods.

“What did he say?”

He squints at his phone, purses his lips. “He’s, uh...” He cocks his head. “He invited me to a show tonight.”

“A show?”

“Their show.” His phone buzzes again. “They’re playing Sinner’s.”

Huh. It’s not quite jealousy. You don’t think, anyway.

“That’s awesome. Look at you going up in the world. Remind me to ask for your autograph.”

He flicks a gaze to you, dark and unimpressed. Your tummy throbs.

“What?”

“You’re coming with me.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I wasn’t invited. Besides, I’m not feeling well. I’m better off staying—”

Before you can finish, he tosses his phone to the pillowy mass of duvet. “Read.”

The screen displays Jisung’s thread of texts.

>> yooo it’s jisungie. last night was lit. not feeling so hot today though lol

>> we’re doing sinners tonight. u and hot roomie should come

>> be awesome to see u again

“Oh.”

Minho hums.

“Hot roomie?” you ask.

“That would be you.”

“Naturally. And they think I’m hot because...?”

He catches his phone when you toss it back to him. “Because I told them so.”

Something in your frontal lobe implodes.

“Oh.”

“I have seen you naked.”

Right. That happened. Apparently? Fuck.

On your stunted silence, he puffs a breath. “I thought you hyped them,” he says.

“Bitch, please. You know I do.”

He laughs, a smirk lingering on his mouth. He rises from his chair and moves to you, veined, strong hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Warm. If only they weren’t so wide of your throat, you could be wearing them as a necklace.

He stares at you. The world is white noise and pixels.

“You know they’re fucking, right?”

“I— What? The fuck?”

“You didn’t?” He blinks, all feigned innocence. “They told me. Kind of had my suspicions anyway; they triggered my queer-dar to no end.”

“3racha...” You fall to silence, the mental images conjured so disgustingly salacious even the little black box struggles to contain them, because it’s the stuff of delirium made tangible and that simply isn’t—it can’t be—safe for consumption. There’s not enough room in the little black box. Nowhere near enough with what already lives there to comprehend the three of them. 3racha. Them. So beautiful and untouchable and all over each other in the aftermath of a concert or in the back of their tinted transit or in the steamed-up studio or—

Hysteria bubbles at the back of your throat; Minho giggles, thumbs a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Sorry. Probably shouldn’t have dropped that on you,” he says. “Some confidant I am.”

“N— No, it’s…”

Fine? Because it’s not fine. You’re so far from fine you’re no longer sure how to spell the word. Minho searches you, the weight of something unreadable behind his eyes. He wets his bottom lip, swallows and steps back.

Everything screams.

“So, you’re coming, yes?”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

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