Exo Recs

Exo Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Kim Junmyeon

Kim Minseok

Zhang Yixing

Byun Baekhyun

Finding Atlantis by Guardianofjunmyeon AS

Kim Jongdae

Park Chanyeol

Do Kyungsoo

Kim Jongin

Oh Sehun

Why was this on my feed this morning? I miss this man so much.

I remember this era damn near killed me.

It was around the time my friends kept giving me crap for not admitting Jinyoung is my ult when I do things like spit sprite across the room when he gets out of an elevator in Hard Carry 2.5 or stop mid-sentence when he shows up on tv and proceed to pick up the conversation like nothing happened after. I once had to put a sticky note over his face on a youtube thumbnail at work so I could answer a call without freaking out.

JINYOUNG POISON

The Boyz Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Sangyeon

Jacob

Younghoon

Hyunjae

Get F*cked by Kyufiber A

Juyeon

Kevin

New

Q

Juhaknyeon

Sunwoo

Blurred Lines by Biaswreckingfics AS

Eric

Finding Atlantis (part 18)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: WE DID IT! I bet you all thought i wouldn't follow through on my promise hehe. Well guys...this is it. The final chapter. I have no idea what to say because this story has so much of me in it and i'm just...at a loss for words after all the ones ive put in it. I'm considering an epilogue with anything extra you all may want to see (unanswered questions, deleted scenes, life after the story, etc.) So let me stop talking and lets get into it! WARNING: depression mention alongside pretty severe symptoms

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Death is easy.

It’s dying that hurts.

Only those from Atlantis can survive under water. You know that. Baekhyun knows that. It’s an ability that, as regular humans, you will never have.

Death by drowning. Death by blood loss. Death by blade or gunshot. These are all things you’d long predicted would inevitably take your last breath from you. Old age, illness, or natural causes never seemed like probable deaths. A peaceful death isn’t one your lifestyle affords. You’d leave this world the way you’d entered it, no holds barred, all or nothing.

You’ve never feared death.

No.

You’ve only ever feared dying.

You’ve found fear in the pain, in the ugliness of it –never of actually being dead. You’ve only ever worried about the thoughts you would have as you came to the realization that you’d never live another day in this life. You imagined feeling scared, of gasping out agonized breaths.

You never imagined that dying could feel like melting in the embrace from someone close to your heart. Like a suffocating darkness that is eased away by warmth and light. A feeling that carries a gentleness that can only be given through a touch imbued with love.

You never imagined that dying at the bottom of the ocean would lead to you washing up on a regular old beach in the afterlife.

When you open your eyes, you see an early morning sky above you. You can hear the wind whistling through the trees and waves crashing against the land. You can feel the wet sand beneath your palms and the salty water droplets rolling off your face. The afterlife feels all too similar to home.

Sitting up, you can see that you’re still in the outfit you died in. You’re in the outfit you died in, the sun is rising on the horizon, and a copy of your ship is bobbing calmly on the water not far ahead.

All your limbs are intact. You muscles ache but that’s nothing new to you. Water droplets bead on your forearms as the morning sun begins to evaporate it. An anxiety settles in your stomach and you follow the urge to look around for any other signs of life.

Of souls?

Of the gate, or passage to wherever the hell you are supposed to go now that your own fleeting life has ended.

Throat tight, you look around the mostly empty beach.

And you find Baekhyun seemingly not breathing not far behind you.

You scramble on to your knees and lean down to see if you can feel his breath.

Not again…

Maybe this is secretly hell. A replica of one of your happier moments, but you’re forced to spend eternity waking up and finding Baekhyun dead or dying in a new way at your side.

When you lean down again to find he is still unmoving, you attempt to breathe life into his lungs. It feels ironic given your situation.

He finally livens up. Water and acid come out of his mouth as soon as he opens his eyes.

Relief overcomes you at the sight of him and as soon as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, you press your lips to his –desperate for touch to prove to you he’s there.

“You taste like vomit,” you sob happily.

He grimaces and leans up on his elbows. “You’re the one shoving your tongue down my throat after I threw up, you nutcase.” He groans and looks around. “Where the hell are we?”

“Didn’t we die? Aren’t we in some kind of limbo? Davy Jones’s locker.”

He laughs, wet with the water still in his lungs. “I don’t think this is quite what the afterlife looks like. Your ship is right there, there are still signs of life around us, and besides; we’d have ended up in different places. Different lockers, right?” he rationalizes.

It takes you a moment to consider his words –to really feel the sand on your palms, the heat on your skin, the beating of your heart in your chest. You’re still alive somehow, after all of that. You were so far below the surface, there’s no way the two of you should have survived that.

“But…how?” you whisper to your shaking hands.

“I think…” Baekhyun coughs, looks out at the water. “I think Junmyeon guided us to safety somehow.”

You think back on the feeling you felt just after the initial suffocation and you turn to face the water as well. You recall the warmth and safety that came with what you thought was death. “…I…Yeah. I guess he did…”

The water laps lazily against the sand. Calmly.

At peace.

You close your eyes and let the full weight of your reality set in. You’re alive. Junmyeon is gone. He saved you somehow.

Junmyeon is gone.

The tears spill before you can even try and verbalize the realization. You curl into yourself and let the hard sobs shake you to the very core. Baekhyun doesn't say a word.

What couldhe say? Nothing would change what’s been done.

Instead of speaking, he wraps his arms around you to let you weep until you no longer can.

~~~

When your crew realizes that it’s you and Baekhyun who have washed up on the island, they send out a dinghy immediately. By then, your tears have gone, but the lump in your throat won’t go away no matter how many times you swallow around it.

“I miss him,” you mutter as you watch the dinghy get closer to the beach.

“I know,” Baekhyun replies.

“But, he’s happy now.”

He hesitates as he looks out at the water. “…I know.”

Questions are thrown at you as soon as Yixing and Chanyeol make it on land. Baekhyun just shakes his head at your side and they quiet. You’re thankful for the silence.

Your body shakes violently, but your mind is numb.

The joy of your crew as you climb on deck is overwhelming. You look at all the faces emotionlessly. When people begin to sense that something is wrong you lower your gaze to the floor and walk towards your quarters. You can’t speak, not right now. Not when you aren’t even sure what they expect you to say. And you surely can’t plaster on a grin.

The door closes behind you, and the shaking only worsens in your solitude. You let the wet clothing, the only physical reminder of your time in Atlantis left, carelessly fall from your body. More out of habit than by conscious thought, you pull on something dry.

When you bury yourself under your covers, you can’t stop the tremors no matter how hard you try.

~~~

Hours pass. Or maybe it’s a few minutes. It could have been half a day, you can’t be sure. All you know, is that in the time between you closing yourself off in the room and the first person coming in to check on you, is that you haven’t been able to go to sleep.

Every time you close your eyes for more than a few seconds you’re haunted with the sight of Junmyeon’s smile as he thanked you. That and then his still form in the sphere of water. Every time you tried to sleep, you just ended up crying.

Yeri is the first person to knock. She peaks her head in and says words that hold no meaning to you. When you show no sign of responding, she retreats.

Yixing comes in next. He tries to make conversation. Checks you for any obvious injury or illness. Frowns despite seeing nothing physically wrong. You think he tells you that you need to eat.

Jongin and Kyungsoo come in together. Kyungsoo with a tray of food, and Jongin seemingly just there to see you with his own eyes.

When they give up trying to coax words out of you they leave the food too.

You push it to the floor just to hear it clatter. To hear something.

The door opens for a fourth time and you want to exhale in frustration. Why does no one understand that you want to be left alone?

A cup of tea is set on the table where the food once sat. You tiredly raise your eyes to the face of the newest intruder. Baekhyun looks down at the mess on the floor with pursed lips. You decide then to avoid his eyes.

He rounds the bed and sits on the other side. You can feel his weight against your back. A dry sob finds its way out of your mouth. You would feel embarrassed if you had the energy to.

A sigh is all you get from him. You can feel him shifting and the sound of his boots hitting the floor before the covers lift and he crawls under. He doesn’t say anything. You turn to face him. His eyes catch yours before you can even think to look away.

When he opens up his arms, your lip trembles and you hide yourself against his chest without second thought. He holds you tightly, as if his arms are the only thing keeping you from breaking apart.

You let your eyes fall closed. Thanks to the warmth of his body and the thumping of his heart, you’re finally, finally, able to fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

You wake up alone. The tea on your bedside table has long gone cold. You don’t need to touch it to know. The lethargy in your bones lets you know that you got at least a few hours rest –plenty of time for a hot cup of tea to go stale. You frown and fight the urge to throw the cold glass across the room.

Sitting up, you dig the palms of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Stars and non-shapes flash across your vision when you reopen them.

Frustrated, you notice that nothing has changed when you open your eyes. The room is the same. The tea is still cold.

And you’re still alone.

What now?

You never thought about what you would do after Junmyeon was gone. Hell, you hadn’t thought that Junmyeon would die.

Where do you go from here? Are you just supposed to get up and sail on? Find a new mission? Make someone else your new first mate?

The thought of that alone makes you feel sick. You aren’t ready to think about that.

What do you do now? You don’t want to think, you don’t want to feel, you just want to lie in bed and pretend this never happened. Maybe have a dream where thisis all just a dream.

Should you eat? Should you go talk to someone? Should you throw yourself over the side of the ship? If you’re lucky, maybe you’d hit a rock and die from head trauma. You’ve drowned enough in this lifetime, you think. You couldn’t handle drowning being the last thing you ever felt.

The compass catches your eye, flipped open and on its side on the bedside table. That probably happened when you flipped over the food.

Automatically you reach out for it and cradle it in both of your hands. There’s no way you can make a decision for yourself right now. Maybe the compass will help lead you to what you should focus on doing next.

A breath in. Closed eyes. Cleared mind. A heavy breath out.

You open your eyes and see the needle of the compass slowing moving from the left towards your door.

Baekhyun must be about to walk in, you think bitterly.

And he does.

There’s a fresh tray of food in his hands. He falters in the doorway when he sees you sitting up with the compass in your hands. He doesn’t say anything as he walks to the side of the bed –where he’d slept- and places the food there.

He reaches over and closes the compass in your hands. “Don’t look at that thing right now. You’re in the middle of mourning.”

Mourning. That sounds right. You couldn’t place the feeling until you heard it.

“You should eat something,” he says softly. He settles on the bed at your side. “I cleaned up the food on the floor earlier, and we all figured you would feel somewhat better with fresh food.”

You don’t reply.

“Eat something. You can’t starve yourself.”

You clench your fingers around the closed compass.

Baekhyun groans exasperatedly. “You haven’t eaten or had any water in nearly 48 hours. Do you not care? I don’t expect you to say anything, but the least you can do is not sit here on your ass trying to kill yourself by refusing to eat.”

There’s nothing for you to say to that. You hadn’t realized how long it had been, but even then you don’t want any food. The thought of eating makes you feel nauseous.

The compass is snatched from your hands. “Okay fine. You don’t want to eat? Then decide on the next plan of action. Where do you want to go huh? You want revenge? Wanna go kick Poseidon’s ass? Let’s do it. Just get up and do something, you can’t waste away like this. Not after everything you’ve been through.” He opens the compass up and immediately puts it back in your hands.

As always, it turns towards him.

He looks at it in confusion. You exhale and let it fall from your hands. Baekhyun looks from you to the compass with furrowed brows before he picks it up himself. After only a second he holds it in your line of vision.

The needle unwaveringly points towards you.

So, what?

You sluggishly drag your gaze back up. His jaw is set in determination.

“It points towards you too. It won’t stop pointing towards you. From the start of this, it’s only been you. I’m here…I’m trying to be here with you.” He sounds as exhausted as you feel.

You bite your lip to hold back a fresh set of tears.

He rakes a hand roughly through his hair.

“I-I love you.” He pauses and you see the shock in his eyes as he realizes what he’s said. You clench your fists at your side. “I…love you, and I’m sorry it took you losing Junmyeon, us nearly dying 10 times, and your confession for me to finally say it. I don’t think I could tell you when it started even if I wanted to, but that doesn’t matter.” His face burns red with embarrassment but he pushes on. “What matters right now, is that I’m here, you’re here, and you’re killingyourself. Do you hear me?

“Junmyeon wouldn’t want to see you like this. I don’t want to fucking see you like this.” He licks his lips and exhales shakily. “We still have so much to fight over. Don’t you still wanna kick my ass? You can stab me again if you want, I don’t care, just…please,” he begs. He lowers his head into your lap and his hands clench around the sheets. His face is hidden from view but you can see the shake in his shoulders as he tries not to cry.

Silently, you reach over the grab the cup of water in your trembling hands. You drink a few mouthfuls but it doesn’t feel as though it really helps. Baekhyun looks up with red rimmed eyesat your movement.

You grab a piece of soft bread and break off a piece and hand it to him. He opens his mouth to eat it. You break another piece off and feed it to yourself.

Until the food is gone, neither of you say a word to each other. It’s only when he sits up to clear away the tray that you find the energy to speak. “Stay with me, please.” Your fingers curl around his wrist to keep him from leaving. You silently notice that he’s paler than usual, and his wrist is thinner.

As if he’s been in a similar state of distress.

If he wanted to, you still think he could escape your hold without even trying –given the comparatively worse state you’re in. “You help keep the nightmares away. You…you being here helps me sleep.”

He blinks at your admission and then nods. “Of course. I’m here. You couldn’t make me leave even if you wanted to.”

You lower yourself back down to your side, nearly chin deep under the covers as he settles in next to you. This time when he opens his arms, he doesn’t wait for you to close the distance. He pulls you closer on his own.

After a few minutes of quiet, “I don’t know what to do now,” you admit softly. He hums in question. “I never thought this far ahead…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Just take it day by day. You don’t have a plan in place now. It’s okay to take some time to just feel, to do nothing. That might be what’s best for you until you get back on your feet. It doesn’t matter what you do. Just take it day by day.”

~~~

The days get easier, or maybe you become more accustomed to feeling like shit.

Who knows?

It’s decided that everyone will head back to Arae and take a well deserved break. After all that has occurred, some time on land to recuperate is the least the crew could use.

It takes a week before you’re able to finally call a meeting with all the crew to discuss what happened while you, Junmyeon and Baekhyun were in Atlantis.

You give your retelling and Baekhyun chimes in to fill in blanks where needed. Once you describe the last moments with your former first mate, you actively see people’s eyes glassing over.

Even as you try to convince everyone that he is content with his decision, you hear the uncertainty in your own voice.

“So…that’s just it? Mission accomplished, I guess.” Yixing runs a hand through his hair. “This is a lot to hear.”

“I understand that there may still be confusion and that emotions are high after all of our recent events. I’m still trying to come to terms with it all myself. Let’s just get to port and then everyone can rest and take the time they need,” you say to the crowd. “We can figure everything else out later. Junmyeon was treasured, and was proud of each and every one of you. Never forget that…”

You end your address with a nod to your men. The weight of a hand on your shoulder gives you just enough strength to summon the authority of a captain in your voice. “Anchors aweigh! Man your stations! We’ll be heading northwest until we’ve set our course for Arae!”

Your words snap everyone to attention, and the deck bursts with movement.

“I want a record of how our food rations are looking! I need a headcount of our men! Sehun, you’re on the helm until I get back!”

For the first time in a while, you feel the rush of being in charge. Of being in control of the things occurring around you. You would puff up with pride if the thought hadn’t reminded you of all that you’ve recently had no control over. Of the things…the people…you’ve lost.

The hand on your shoulder squeezes. “You’re doing a great job. You don’t have to push yourself any further than you can handle.”

You turn to look at Baekhyun head on. “I’m fine. Let’s go chart our course to port before I get the urge to vomit in the middle of the deck.” You grimace.

His hand drifts to your nape. The smile on his face is affectionate, warm, loving. “C’mon then.”

~~~

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling like all of the air has been stolen from your lungs. Sitting up with a start, you clutch your throat to check if anything was physically choking you. The candle you’d put out before going to bed burns brightly on your bedside table, but your throat is no longer constricted.

Baekhyun, who has unofficially moved into your quarters (not completely unwanted), is dead asleep at your side. You look around the room slowly, hand itching to grab a weapon in case you’re being ambushed. Being woken with such abruptness has your guard raised.

A glint of gold catches your eye as the candle flickers in the darkness.

A golden seal. Wax with an unfamiliar emblem pressed into it holding closed a note by the flame.

Confusion causes your eyebrows to furrow, but curiosity has you reaching out to grab it. The paper feels strange in your hands. Smooth and glossy, but wet. The water droplets don’t soak into the note; you’re able to wipe them off easily without disturbing the integrity of the odd parchment.

As you open it, you recognize the handwriting immediately.

Dear Captain,

I’m writing this hurriedly in my bedroom, so I apologize if it doesn't read as easily as it should.

I decided that you deserve a proper explanation. After the experience with the guardians earlier, I knew that I needed to tell you what things will happen next. What my purpose of being here is for. I fear there’s not much more time before I will lose my chance to talk to you.

The guardians of the ocean were never meant to last for all of time. They lose power just as all things do, and certain events can trigger a power outage faster than others.

Events like my leaving home.

You might have been able to put together the pieces from what Jongdae was saying, but my reason for leaving was quite simple.

I knew that I would have to die to restore power to our guardians.

I knew that I would have to die, so I wanted to live before I had to give up my life for the kingdom. I didn’t think much of it when I left. I didn’t have any plans or any idea of where I would go. I just needed to leave. I needed time to enjoy my life while I could.

But every action has a consequence. By leaving, I unintentionally caused not one, not two, but three of our sacred guardians to lose power. If I don’t step in, then we may very well lose a fourth and I can’t let that happen. I refuse to let that happen.

All this is to say, that this note is my goodbye to you. It is my goodbye to the crew. If things go as I expect, then the fourth guardian will lose power soon and I’ll have to give up all that I am in order to restore at least the guardians that we lost in my absence.

This is a goodbye, and I know you must be thinking, ‘there must be another way’, but there isn’t. This is the only way, and I’ve long accepted that.

However, I’ve gotten to live a full life thanks to you taking me in that one rainy night. Thanks to the crew for being a family for me and dedicating so much time and spilling s much blood just to get me home. Being able to sail with you all, experiencing the good and the bad of being human, has steeled my resolve. I will do this to protect humanity. To protect the seas. To protect my family, both in Atlantis and aboard my real home on the Storm Chaser.

I never planned on leaving any trace of my existence on land. I thought I could exist and vanish without a trace, but in a way I’m grateful that I will be able to complete the prophecy with people who will remember me as me.

Not as a prince.

Not as a cursed child of Posiedon.

Not as Suho the Guardian of the Ocean.

But as a man. As Junmyeon. As first mate of the Storm Chaser.

Thank you for everything, Captain. Continue to sail the seas happily and healthily. I know that you’ll continue to be a protector and a home to many more lost souls like mine. Live a long life. For me.

Yours truly,

Kim Junmyeon

P.S. you should give Byun a chance to get his thoughts together. From what I’ve gathered, you stunned him and he is just as much in love with you as you are him. We’ve all be telling you this for so long

P.P.S please clean up your quarters. I won’t be around to help you keep things in order, so for me, clear away all those damn posters.

Your eyes flit over to the messy pile of wanted posters that have spilled onto the floor and you feel a smile stretching across your lips. You run your thumbs across the paper a few times to keep your mind distracted as you scan over the note again.

Having this final piece of him here in your hands fills your chest with emotion. An ache, a fullness, a kind of pain and a kind of happiness. It’s a lot to process so soon after waking.

“Euurggh,” you hear him rising before you feel him shifting beside you. “What are you doing awake so soon?”

“A letter.”

“I’ve got a letter for you, it’s ‘Z’ and it means lay back down and get some.”

You can’t help how your eyes roll. He’s as annoying as ever, but he’s right. You only get a few hours of rest before you have to take over from Yixing for the night. The letter, figuring out where it came from and what to do with it, can wait a few hours more.

You fold it back neatly and set it next to the candle before blowing out the flame. It’s presence in the room is heavy, but you are determined not to deal with it until you wake again.

Burying yourself under the blanket, Baekhyun attaches himself to you immediately to sap you of your body heat. “Baekhyun…”

“Mm.” You contemplate briefly bringing up the note, but think better of it. Instead you focus on the heat he radiates against you. You feel warm all over.

“You know…you’re the only one who’s said it so far.”

“Mm?”

You shuffle up and cup one of his cheeks in your hand. He opens his sleepy eyes to gaze at you in confusion. You take the moment to really accept this moment. You can’t lie to yourself and say that you’re happy, but you can see yourself being happy in the future. In this moment, it’s clearer now than before. You may no longer have Junmyeon at your side, but Baekhyun is here. He’s here, he genuinely seems to care about you, and he said he loves you.

You hadn’t even had the courage to say those words when you’d been sharing your own feelings in that hallway. The words felt too real. Too permanent. But now, in the darkness of your room, everything feels…right.

“I love you.” You press a poorly aimed kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you…a lot.” A giddy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. “It kinda makes me disgusted.”

“You just had to ruin the moment at the end there didn't you?”

“I can’t have you thinking I no longer think that you’re a bastard.”

“But I’m your bastard.”

You snort. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

He presses a messy kiss to your mouth. You laugh at first, taken off guard by the suddenness of the action. He pulls you closer to his body, and the kiss develops into something more purposeful.

Your hands on each other hold so much more meaning now. There’s no hidden feelings here. No rush of any kind. No need to hide tenderness for fear of being to vulnerable. Just two lovers who want to cherish the person in their arms. You brush your lips against his temple. “Baekhyunie…I really do love you,” you whisper before placing a peck against his earlobe.

He groans deep in his throat, hides his face in your neck. “You’ve gotta stop using that nickname when we’re fucking. I’m never gonna be able to hear it again without my dick getting hard,” he breathes hotly against your skin. A laugh escapes you without warning.

He breathes out a laugh of his own before pulling away and kissing up your neck to your forehead. His lips linger there. “God, I love you.”

You hum happily. “I could get use to hearing that.”

“Oh, shut up.” He says softly. “Go back to sleep. I’m too tired to do anything else. We can continue after a few more hours of rest.” You wrap your arms around him and place your head on his chest. “We can deal with whatever is in that letter tomorrow too, get some rest for now,” he yawns out.

You’d almost forgotten about the letter, but you don’t feel any desperation to address it. You’ll sleep for now. Punctuated by a light kiss to his skin, you murmur quietly, sincerely, “I love you.”

His arms tighten around you in acknowledgement and you fall asleep at peace.

~~~*Three months later*~~~

“Are we ready to leave port?”

“Yes Captain. All members are present and accounted for.”

“Good. Our heading is southeast, let’s make haste. I want to get this bounty quickly. We’re rusty, we need to start with something easy.”

“Ay, Captain.”

Leaving port is always as gratifying as it is stress inducing. There’s nothing that can quite match the rush you feel when you see your fellow crewman rushing around your ship, bringing her to life again, after months at rest. Raising the sails and cleaning down her surfaces before taking her back out home on the open sea, that rush is what excites you most in this world. The entire vessel buzzes with energy as your men call out to each other across the ship ensuring that she’s prepped and safe to take out on the water.

“Uh…Captain? We’ve got an extra in our headcount.”

You whip around at Yixing’s voice.

“Long time no see,” the new face says, smile as bright as you remember.

“Jongdae?” you can’t believe your eyes. It’s been months since you saw the younger prince last. The last place you expected to see him again was on land, in Arae no less.

“I figured you might be needing an extra hand here and there. Although I don’t know much about working on a ship, I know plenty about how the currents and how the ocean works.”

Yixing looks from you to Jongdae in confusion. “So…you know this guy?”

“Yeah...yeah. He’s Junmyeon’s younger brother.” Your words stun your quartermaster so much so that his mouth drops open.

“Speaking of my brother, did you get the letter I delivered?”

Letter?

The note!

“You put that letter there? We couldn’t figure out how it could have possibly ended up there.” You’d all spent hours thinking of ways that the letter could have been snuck aboard, and even longer trying to make sense of the paper itself. After reading its contents, everyone aboard the ship felt as though they’d finally gotten the proper send off deserved of your first mate. Most questions had been answered, and everyone felt content in the way things had played out, even if it meant Junmyeon was no longer with you all.

“Well yeah. Junmyeon wanted it to go to you after he took over as guardian. I had to do my part to fulfill that wish. That, and getting you all the treasure you were promised.” Its then that you notice the enormous cases being loaded on the ship –cases you know the crew hadn’t packed themselves.

“Treasure?”

“Gold, jewels, shiny stuff you humans like.”

Yixing rushes over to a case to open it. “Are these all full of treasures?”

Jongdae nods easily, as if the fortune he’s brought has little meaning to him. “Of course.”

“This would set the entire crew for generations Captain…” Yixing says in awe.

You blink at Jongdae dumbly.

“There’s just one favor I have to ask in return for delivering all of this,” he starts. “I need you and your crew to help me with my destiny.”

“Of fucking course there’s a catch. What? We gotta help you on a suicide mission next?” Baekhyun’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. He tosses an arm over your shoulder. He’s gained more weight in the months at rest. The weight on your shoulders is welcomed.

“It’s nothing like that trust me,” Jongdae says with raised hands. He focuses his attention back to you. “Junmyeon trusts you all, so I do too. It’s nothing quite as final as Junmyeon’s, but it’s still quite a feat to complete on my own.”

“Did you run away too?” You ask in worry.

“No, no! I was given permission. This has to do with my destiny so it’s completely fine. Besides, Junmyeon’s able to help guide me home if I need to go back.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask incredulously.

He blinks innocently. “Junmyeon can help me find my way home when I’m ready. Whenever I talk to him he seems pretty sure that he can.”

“You still talk to him!?”

“Duh, he’s a part of the ocean now. He’s not gone. I’m sure even you guys could get some kind of response from him if you tried to talk to him. It might not be words, but he’s pretty good at communicating.” He waves away his words as if it was a passing thought. “He told me to come to you guys for help, and said I might be able to help in return. If you all help me destroy the monsters that inhabit the more dangerous parts of the ocean, then I can offer my knowledge in exchange.”

Baekhyun is able to jump back into the conversation first. You’re still stupefied at the idea that you could have talked to Junmyeon all this time. That he isn’t fucking dead, just…part of the ocean now?

Whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean.

“So…you want us to help you fight sea monsters? Like sirens and krakens and shit?”

Jongdae gives an eager nod.

Baekhyun looks at you and raises an eyebrow. Do you really want to take this on? You purse your lips and turn back to Jongdae. You’ve spent over 3 months not taking on any missions. Your crew is as rusty as they can get. Fresh out of mourning and getting back on their feet. You have enough gold and jewels to never have to work again.

Even if you declined, you doubt Jongdae would take the treasures back. This was your payment for Junmyeon’s return. Nothing more than that. If anything, this would be a favor to the other prince.

But, Junmyeon thinks you’d be of help to each other. Besides, you don’t know what you would do with your time if you stopped sailing as a pirate. You belong on the sea. You’ve know that for nearly all your life. You want to live adventurously. The Storm Chaser can’t be reduced to some shitty cargo ship. Your men came to you to escape their lives on land. They wouldn’t want to return even if they had the money to live happily. You can tell by how eager everyone is today just coming back aboard the ship.

You jut your hand out. Your decision is made; although, it might have been made up from the moment he even asked. “You’ve got a deal.” Jongdae beams and reaches out to grab your hand, but you suddenly pull back. “Ah…well as long as my first mate agrees?”

You catch Baekhyun’s eyes again and he smiles. “If you want to do this, I’m behind you 100% Captain.” The eye patch he was using to keep his bangs out of his face is slid back over his eye.

“Let’s go kill some fucking sea monsters.”

~~~

20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean.

The heart of the ocean.

These days, her heart is at ease. These days, the ocean is calm.

The tale of the lost child of Atlantis have become nothing but an old wives tale. A thrilling bedtime story told to children to amaze them with the wonders of the sea.

A story of family, of fear, and of loss.

A story about mermaids, and storms –of ships that nearly faced destruction in attempt to return that lost child.

To return that lost man. A prince.

A tale that dazzles with promises of riches, and happiness. Of adventure and hate. A tale of love.

There’s no way to determine the truth of the story, for no written record of Atlantis exists. Only the oral retellings by those who claim to have seen it.

Many secrets lie beneath the ocean’s surface –wonders and horrors alike. The tale of finding Atlantis will stay as secret as the ocean herself.

Thus, her story continues on.

Calm. At peace.

-Anonymous

Dive

PAIRING: doyoung x afab reader (ft djj)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k (got a bit carried away)

SUMMARY: your best friend drags you out to a club to be her wingwoman as she meets back up with a stunning stranger and you cross paths with the hottest man you've ever seen in an expensive suit and a cross around his neck

THANK YOU: @strwbrysunday you know how important you've been in getting this across the finish line and you're a literal angel. thank you so much <3 thank you to all my friends who watched me brainrot over this over the past week and inspiring me to keep working on it with your positive words.

WARNINGS: explicit smut, smoking, drinking, drug reference, profanity, heavy religious imagery in a sexual setting (and I mean HEAVY - so if this is going to bother you, this isn't the fic for you)

PLAYLIST: Dive by DoJaeJung, Angel by NCT 127

This was clearly inspired by the Doyoung D&G promo images with the rosary and the rest was history...

I can dive, I'm diving into you

Ouch. You pinch your eyelash with the curler as you lean in closer to the glassy mirror in your best friend’s bathroom. You knew you should be wearing your contacts but had forgotten them at home and you weren’t going to hear the end of it from her if that was the excuse you had for ditching her for the night.

It had been an exhausting week at work but somehow your adorable firecracker of a platonic soulmate since childhood had dragged you to her apartment as soon as the clock hit 5:00PM in the co-working space your small start-up you both worked for shared with some other local environmental companies.

She had shed off her casual work clothes hours before, now wearing a glittery black dress, hugging her hips tightly, strings ruched up the side revealing plenty of thigh, covered with nude fishnets. You envied her long and bouncy locks that flowed down her back, reaching up to touch your straight hair that never cooperated with the curling iron.

“What is it?” she asked from behind you, catching you staring. 

“Is there something on my dress?” she spun around, craning her head to look at her own ass in the mirror.

You started to speak before you realized she was showing off, dropping to the floor quickly before slowly standing again, shimmying her rear as she started to sway to the faint music coming from her living room.

You rolled your eyes with a huff, curling your other eye’s lashes and applying a few coats of mascara.

“Loosen up, angel,” she called back as she moved into her walk-in closet to select her shoes and handbag, using her pet name she had been calling you for years.

You finished up the rest of your makeup, cleaning up the little pile of products and packing them back neatly in their small pouch before examining yourself in the mirror. Your dark hair fell almost to your shoulders, eyes accentuated with smudged dark liner and cheekbones dusted with a bright coral blush that complimented the glossy color across your lips. You had let your best friend convince you to dress up more than you usually did, since she said the club you were going to tended to cater to a more affluent clientele. 

A skin tight white leather crop top pushed your breasts up nicely and you had even let your friend dust some shimmering glitter across them with a large puff earlier. You smoothed the matching devastatingly short skirt and adjusted the lace up black boots that travelled up your long legs and over your knee. You felt confident in the outfit and only slightly uneasy about the night ahead. Your friend had a tendency to scan for her prey of the night the minute you entered a venue and often spent the night locking lips with half the dance floor or as she did the weekend before, dancing on stage with the burlesque dancers at the late night speakeasy.

Standing next to her as you both did final checks in the mirror, you looked like the moonlight and sunlight, night and day, devil and angel. A dangerous pair for any person to come across in a crowded club with these outfits, to say the least. You giggled as your friend planted a glossy kiss to your ear before pushing your hair back into place, following her out of the spacious apartment.

“WOO!” shrieked your friend, waving long fingernails at a tall, slender man leaning against a private booth tucked near the DJ. A warm grin spread across his plush lips and you couldn’t help it when your heart jumped a little in your chest. How your friend always found the most attractive people to surround herself always surprised you (not like you were complaining).

She had met Jungwoo the weekend before at a rave and had gabbed your ear off about the attractive and rich heir to a fortune who lived downtown in the middle of all the weekend excitement and had fed her drinks all night long while clutching onto her hips as they danced. She hadn’t gone home with him but instead had gotten his number and promised to meet him out the next weekend. The next weekend was now and out the two of you were.

Jungwoo was absolutely stunning, bright white hair damp, long, and hanging around his cheeks and across his forehead. He wore a sheer blouse unbuttoned halfway, exposing much of his toned chest and loose grey slacks that didn’t leave much to the imagination when he moved.

Taking careful steps through the crowd, you followed your friend who now had her hand held close to the lips of another man, this one dressed in the remains of an expensive suit, tie loose and sloppy around his neck with several buttons of a crisp pale blue shirt undone. He had dark hair slicked back to reveal his stunning face and his eyes glittered when he pulled them to yours to greet you.

“This is Jaehyun, Jungwoo’s roommate!” she giggled, a glass of champagne somehow already in her hand as she grinned at Jaehyun’s tender kiss to the back of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, girls,” Jaehyun spoke deep and smoothly, his voice like velvet.

You cleared your throat with a small smile and shifted your weight in the uncomfortable shoes, eyes darting past the two men in front of you to a third seated in the booth.

Goosebumps instantly dotted your bare arms as you raked your eyes over one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Even seated, you could tell he was tall with a broad frame. His hand was stretched out across his knee, high end designer fabric covering every inch of his body.

As if in slow motion, he lifted his head from his phone, placing it next to him to take a long sip from the short glass of dark liquid on the table in front of him. He brought his dark eyes up to meet yours and as soon as you made contact you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat, gulping as he peeled his eyes down your body.

You moved a hand to grip your other forearm, suddenly self conscious but equally intrigued, cocking your head slightly to the side. Your vision blurred briefly and you cursed yourself for not remembering your contacts as your loss of focus refused to let you make out the expression on the mystery man’s face.

“Doie - don’t be rude, say hi!” Jungwoo slurred out, taking a strong hand to the small of your back to guide you into the booth and directly next to Doyoung.

“Hi,” he spoke, quiet and soft, pulling his hand off his knee to extend a handshake to you.

You chuckled lightly and let him shake your hand, taking a moment to inspect him further now that you could see him better.

The white collared shirt under his suit jacket was tight (almost too tight) with the top buttons straining against the fabric enclosure. He had a soft jaw and plump lips, dark hair styled in a way that was kept but still messy in a sexy way. When he smiled his eyes crinkled in the corners and his neutral facial expression was hard to read when he wasn’t speaking.

You let your eyes wander down to his tight pants before shaking your head, begging your dirty mind to control itself. It hadn’t been that long since you had hooked up with a stranger at a bar but long enough to let your mind wander within minutes of meeting this man.

Doyoung reached across the table to pour you a glass of champagne from the bottle in the ice bucket and as he did, you noticed a glimmering chain around his neck. As he leaned further, you saw the small black beads on the chain catching the light and much to your surprise, a cross slipped into view briefly.

You sucked in a deep inhale at the sight - this man was wearing a fucking rosary around his neck.

Flashes of hours kneeling for Easter vigil mass, heavy clouds of incense in your face as you held the thurible in a floor length white robe, dark smudges on your forehead, and getting tipsy off communion wine in the church basement with your cousins flew across your mind as you watched him laugh at something Jaehyun said.

Jungwoo swore loudly as he dripped tequila across the table, attempting to pour five shots evenly. You can’t pull your eyes away from Doyoung, watching as he bows his head lightly, wincing ever so slightly at the curse words.

Who the fuck is this guy?

Taking a long drink from your champagne glass and tossing back the shot that is handed to you, you reach into your bag and dig out a carton of cigarettes, pulling the ashtray at the center of the table closer to you.

Pulling a loose stick with your lips, you instinctively gesture towards Doyoung who moves a hand quickly to decline. You shrug and move a bit closer to Jungwoo who is taking a long drag from a neon green vape. He chuckles and tosses his hair from his eyes as he watches the interaction.

“You’re better off making moves on Jae,” he says to you on his exhale. He tosses an arm around your shoulder, nudging your bare shoulder lightly with his thumb, cocking his chin up to draw your attention to a smiley Jaehyun swaying to the music, slightly off beat, as your friend tries to get him to salsa dance with her.

“Doyoung is a little more on the conservative side. Doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like getting high, barely gets drunk, takes his grandma to church on Sundays, all that,” Jungwoo adds, giving you a softer smile as he pulls your eyes into contact with his.

You narrow your own eyes slightly, not sure if this is some twisted attempt at reverse psychology to push you even more into the arms of his friend. While he was wearing the rosary, that didn’t necessarily scream “priest”. He was in a high end club’s most desirable VIP booth, surrounded by drinks and other substances, with two party boys that looked like models.

“Well he’s taken every shot that’s been poured for him, so I don’t know about that ‘not getting drunk’ part,” you quip back, taking a long drag from your cigarette and blowing it behind you through tightly pursed lips, intentionally avoiding Doyoung’s direction.

“Yeah he and Jaehyun lost some big account today, I think he’s just blowing off some steam. Plus he owes me,” Jungwoo winks as punctuation, making it apparent that he wasn’t going to elaborate on the end of that statement.

Throughout the night you learn that Doyoung and Jaehyun work at a big investment bank, Jaehyun sharing a small apartment with Jungwoo in the middle of all the city nightlife, the three of them having known each other since they were kids. Doyoung seemed to have never moved on from their strong faith-based formative years, holding onto these ideals even years later and still an active member of his family’s church community. When he checks the time on his phone you see the smiling face of an older woman pushed up against his, assuming this to be the grandmother Jungwoo mentioned before.

He’s quiet as you chat with him, having to do most of the talking, but is kind and puts some of your nerves at ease even when your friend is off in the middle of the dance floor doing god knows what with god knows who.

Despite his reserved nature, you feel his eyes trained on your every move, following your lips and hands as you smoke another cigarette, the way you cross and uncross your legs with ease, despite the short skirt that has a tendency to ride up when you wiggle in your seat.

You watch him in the same way he watches you, the way his hair falls into his eyes every once and a while and instead of pushing it away with his hand, he shakes his head lightly, flicking his eyes up as if to chastise the loose strands. When he leans forward to take a sip of his drink or gesture to the waitress, his toned chest is exposed by the undone buttons on his shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, his very presence is intoxicating and it’s affecting you more than you would like. Goosebumps crop up on your arms and you suddenly feel chilled in the warm room, sending a shiver down your spine.

A loud laugh draws your attention across the booth and you are met with the sight of your friend feverishly making out with Jaehyun, sandwiched between him and Jungwoo who has his hand up the hem of her dress, laughing into her neck.

You whip your head back towards Doyoung, giving an awkward smile to him before the chill sets over you again. You train your gaze downwards, examining the patterned carpet on the floor and the laces on your thigh high boots, picking at the edge of the string. You startle at the feeling of fabric being draped over your shoulders, looking up to see that Doyoung has placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.

He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulder after placing the jacket and you suddenly feel an additional set of eyes on you as you lift up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. He’s staring at your slightly spread legs, running a wicked tongue across his bottom lip as it quirks up into a wry smile.

You feel Doyoung’s grip around your shoulder tighten and turn to see his face close to yours, your heart jumping in your chest when you feel his breath across your cheek. You can’t bear to break eye contact with him, despite the fact that you desperately wish you could see Jaehyun’s reaction.

“You seemed cold,” he murmurs to you, lips almost brushing across your skin as he speaks close to your ear. He smells delicious, like soft musk but still clean and warm. You mentally take note to slyly ask Jungwoo what cologne his friend wears.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster and you resist the urge to drop your head to his shoulder, suddenly feeling lightheaded in the haze of alcohol, nicotine, and the blaring music of the club.

Doyoung reaches to the table for his glass, arm never leaving your shoulder, rolled shirt sleeve revealing a large and intricate cross tattoo on his forearm. At the sight of the ink you are jolted back to the reality that this man is not who you want him to be. You would normally have a hand palming his groin in the dim lights of the club, moaning into his mouth as he gripped the exposed skin on your back and whispered filthy strings of words into your ear.

But no, you had to bag the “Holier than Thou, Man of God.” Of course you did. This was not going to be good for your libido.

Your friend is suddenly dragging you by the hand to the bathroom, moving surprisingly fast in her towering heels.

“Sooooooooo, angel,” she whines from the single use stall she pulled you into after locking the door.

“What are you about to ask me to do?” you sigh, fixing your hair in the mirror as your friend hikes up her dress to pee.

“I’m going to take those two home with me,” she bluntly tells you, as you predicted.

“Yeah I think anyone in this club could have told me that,” you reply, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. You didn’t really care what she did, only frustrated now that you had to make the hike home in an expensive taxi or wait for the unreliable train service.

“It’s fine, babe, I’ll get home okay,” you add, mustering the sweetest tone you can for your oldest friend. She deserved to blow off steam as much as next person, but you loved staying over at her luxury apartment on the weekends and the lazy mornings you spent sipping homemade cappuccinos and doing face masks.

“You’re the BESTTTT!” she nearly shouts, throwing her arms around you, damp hands fresh from washing them in the sink getting your skin wet. You laugh at her, congratulating her on getting her dick wet and ushering her out of the small room with a smack to her ass.

Back at the booth she wastes no time murmuring in the ears of the two eager men before they share a steamy three way kiss that results in Jungwoo tugging Jaehyun’s bottom lip with his teeth, looping an arm around his slim waist.

You are flicking through the various ride share apps on your phone to find the cheapest option, boots feeling uncomfortably tight on your feet after a long night. Last thing you want to do in this outfit is sit on an empty train and make the long walk uphill to your apartment complex once you arrive at your stop.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, face suddenly close to yours again. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that you cannot read when he speaks to you.

“Calling for a car home, I don’t have the luxury of living right here downtown and had plans to crash at hers. I’m assuming my job doesn’t pay as well as yours and Jae’s,” you reply, only lifting your eyes up to meet his after you’ve spoken.

God his eyes are so pretty.

“Why don’t you stay at mine, I can sleep on the couch and my driver can take you home in the morning,” he offers, picking your phone out of your hand and locking the screen.

You open your mouth in protest before thinking more on the offer. His driver?! You would be crazy to turn him down and your friend is already halfway out the door headed towards what will undoubtedly be a night to remember.

You nod and quickly stand, holding a hand out for his, guiding him out the back door of the club. He’s making a call on his phone in a hushed tone while you slide your long coat over his blazer, still wrapped around your shoulders, Jungwoo giving you a  small smile and wiggle of his fingers as he slides into the back of a cab.

“I love you angellllll,” your friend slurs out dramatically, knowing she is far less drunk than she appears, playing up the antics for the men around her. Jaehyun has an arm tucked loosely around her waist, grinning ear to ear as the evening wind ruffles his dark hair.

You pull your friend in for a hug before she ducks into the car, latching her lips immediately onto Jungwoo’s exposed neck, drawing a chuckle from you on the street.

Jaehyun pauses before getting in the car, dipping down to whisper right along the shell of your ear.

“Angel is it? I don’t know about that,” he practically moans out, voice breathy and deep.

“Seemed like a devil in disguise in that tight little skirt, slutty legs spread in the club for our sweet and innocent Doie,” he laughs out, laying the degrading tone on thick. His finger is under your chin, tipping it up to force you to look at him. Your heart is pounding and flying around your chest and you can feel your cheeks burn.

Suddenly there’s a hand on your back and you don’t have to look to know that Doyoung has stepped up behind you.

Jaehyun gives you a wink, pushing past you to plant a lingering kiss on Doyoung’s cheek, before turning and disappearing into the car.

Before you can say anything to Doyoung, a black town car replaces the cab in its spot on the busy street, Doyoung moving quickly to open the door for you, helping you in with a strong hand. He closes the door softly before moving around to the street side to slide in next to you, greeting the driver in the front pleasantly.

Your head is spinning and you desperately hope there is time to have a cigarette before going upstairs to Doyoung’s apartment, feeling anxiety creeping up in your chest.

Despite the spacious backseat, Doyoung can’t help but be pressed up against you, twisting to look at you as you make small talk. You watch him when he answers questions you ask and listen to a small story about a frustrating email exchange at work, as if the two of you had known each other forever.

Distracted by the beaded chain around his neck again, you reach over, taking the cross gingerly in between your pointer and middle finger, inspecting it. The metal is cold in your hand and nostalgia rushes over you as you hold it in your hand.

“I dip it in holy water every morning to help keep me grounded and ask that God bless my daily travels,” he offers, smiling lightly at you as he explains in earnest. You know by now that he isn’t lying, that there would be no reason for him to.

“I kiss it as well, asking him to bless my words and calm my mind in a world filled with temptation,” he continues, unwilling to break the heavy eye contact.

He reaches out and draws your fingers to his lips, still holding the cross, and kisses the small metal piece, catching the tips of your fingers with soft lips. They are warm and plush, sending jolts of electricity through your hand and to your chest. You have to shift in your seat to calm the throbbing in your core. This gesture shouldn’t be turning you on this much and you know now that if there is a hell, you surely are destined to take residence there.

The tension in the car is thick as you shiver, hand moving before you have a chance to think, bringing his hand and yours to your own lips, copying his kiss. You watch him gulp and pull his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes darken at the sight of the cross pressed to your lips.

Oh you are so royally fucked.

You watch him as he absently brushes the back of his hand against your own in the elevator ride to the top floor of the sleek and modern building. He lets his fingers tangle with yours briefly before holding his hand out when the door starts to open, bringing the foyer of his apartment into view.

You let a gasp fall from your lips, taking in the beautiful space around you. Lights flick on as you reach down to release the knot holding the laces of your boots in place, stepping out of them carefully by steadying yourself on a small table adorned with realistic looking fake flowers. 

You try to keep your boots tidy under the coat rack, slipping off your coat and hanging it up and checking yourself in the small mirror above hooks of dangling keys. You notice one key with a Kuromi cover, smiling lightly and wondering if he had picked that out for himself. He will tell you one day that it is the key to his mailbox and one of the kids from his Sunday school class brought it in for him after they said Kuromi reminded them of Doyoung.

You follow him to the open living area which melts into the compact kitchen adorned with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. He’s opening the door to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring two glasses.

The apartment is warm but minimalistic in style, adorned with shades of cream, black and gray. You half expect to see a statue of Mary where the tv sits but there’s barely any religious imagery present. Maybe you had misjudged him after all.

As you close the space between you, you let his blazer slip from your shoulders, catching it and folding it gently in your hands, looking up towards him through your long lashes as you lean your hip against the cold edge of the counter, offering the blazer to him. Instead of taking the jacket from your hands, he leans forward, brushing a thumb across the high point of your cheek, examining your face.

“Let me know if there is anything I can get you to feel more at home, I want you to feel comfortable,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

You feel butterflies in your chest and despite how tired you know you should be, your heart is pounding and core tightening at how close he stands to you in his beautiful apartment, finally able to hear his voice clearly without the sounds of the club or busy streets of the city. It’s velvety smooth and even and his lips tip up at the edges when he finishes his kind statement. You want desperately to push up and capture them in yours but instead nod slowly, taking one of the glasses of water into your hand gulping down some of the cool liquid to try to quell the arousal building within you.

He brushes your skin with his thumb once more before taking the jacket from you, moving to his bedroom and returning moments later with a couple pillows and a large blanket, which he leaves on the plush couch.

“I don’t mind just sleeping out here,” you offer, scanning the comfortable looking room, knowing if you slept in the living room you might be able to more easily slip out unnoticed in the morning. You’ve never been one for tender mornings in bed with a one night stand and this situation shouldn’t be treated any different. You don’t believe he will actually make any move beyond what he has, despite the brief intimate moments you’ve shared since stepping out of the club.

“No no, I insist, take my bed. The bedding was just changed this morning,” he makes sure to note and you realize how rich this man truly must be if he avoided mentioning who exactly changed the sheets. Surely not Doyoung, with his thousands of dollars of clothing and jewelry on his body and on-call car service and penthouse suite.

He moves to open the door to the balcony, cool but comfortable night air flooding the living room as he hands you a vintage glass ashtray from the media cabinet.

“In case you need one before you go to sleep or in the night,” he offers, smiling lightly at the shocked look on your face.

“Jungwoo is always hanging around here when I’m working late and I’ve learned there is no way to stop people from doing something they want to do. I can’t change my friends and I wouldn’t want to. I have things in my life and things I have removed from my life but that is my own decision and shouldn’t affect my relationships with those I love,” he adds, fingers brushing over yours as they make contact to pass the item to you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll take a shower quickly and then let you have the bedroom and bathroom. If you need it, there’s a toilet near the elevator and some fresh fruit in the fridge,” he continues, resisting the urge to brush his lips over your bare shoulder.

You thank him and take your purse out to the balcony, closing the door lightly behind you but making sure it latches fully. Stepping forward towards the edge of the balcony, you quickly light a cigarette and feel calm wash over you as you watch the flickering lights of the city skyline. The cool air feels good against your cheeks and exposed abdomen, needing desperately to cool down. You try (and fail) to not let your mind wander to thoughts of Doyoung in a steamy rainfall shower, steam gathering on glossy mirrors and hot water racing down toned biceps and thighs.

You burn through it eagerly, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray and disposing of it in a small bin attached to the balcony’s railing before heading back inside. Doyoung is emerging from his bedroom in a tight white tank top and loose grey sweatpants, bare feet padding across the plush throw rug.

“I left you some clothes and towels on the bed but help yourself to my closet if you need something warmer,” he mutters awkwardly, the power balance shifting slightly as he stands in front of you in casual clothes, black rosary still visible proudly on his chest.

“I’ll wash up, if that’s okay? If you’re tired and want to sleep, don’t worry about waiting for me to finish. I usually stay up pretty late and I’m sure you have early mornings,” you ramble, scratching at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Take your time, I usually read for a while before bed,” he gestures to a small leather bound bible on the coffee table. Of course he does.

In the shower, you let the water rush over your body, using some of the small skincare bottles to wash your face and step out, massaging shower oil into your damp skin. You sigh into the warm white towel fresh off the warming rack and feel like you’re living in a dream. 

Can’t I just stay here forever?

You know your modest apartment waits for you a few miles away, with your own much smaller and dingier balcony where you like to sketch in your journal as you watch birds settle on the hanging flower baskets. You could never see yourself living full time in the cold of the city, barely any green space and garbage littering the streets.

Checking outside the bathroom door before emerging, the coast is clear as you step back into his spacious bedroom, lightly touching the clothing he had laid out for you. A large and faded t-shirt that appears to be from a church camp is folded neatly, logo barely still visible. 

A package of unopened cotton boxer briefs is next to the shirt, knowing he must have been panicking thinking of how he could offer you something to wear without it seeming creepy. But he seems to at least have experience taking care of stranded tipsy guests (even if they usually were just Jungwoo and someone he brought home from the bar). You pull the shirt over your head and it falls easily to your mid-thigh, skimming over your hardened nipples, painful as they make contact with the cool air from the vent.

Sliding on the boxers, you pull them up to your waist and the shirt covers them fully. You decide against the sweatpants next to the shirt, knowing they will be far too long for you and opt to instead roll on the pair of long socks before placing the pants back on the dresser. You listen at the door for any noise from the living room, hearing a light hum of music you can’t decipher. Pressing your ear closer you recognize Debussy floating through the air and let out a small smile.

You’re about to tuck yourself into the king sized bed before you realize you didn’t bring the water glass in with you. Scanning the room you don’t see one and silently curse yourself.

Sliding the door open quietly, you stick your head out tentatively, his head lifting to look at you. He looks absolutely adorable, bundled up in a fluffy blanket with his small bible in his lap and two scented candles lit on the table. The music did turn out to be Debussy, playing softly on a record player in the corner.

“Is the music too loud?” he asks, moving as if he is going to turn it off.

“No no, it’s beautiful,” you breathe out in reply, sliding out from the door and covering your chest with your arms, self conscious. This causes the hem of the shirt to hike up, exposing a sliver of the white briefs covering your lower half.

Doyoung’s eyes trail down your body, as if wanting to mentally capture this image of you dressed in his clothes, standing sheepishly in front of him. He pushes away thoughts of you on your knees in front of him, mouthing along his length through his sweatpants while he tugs on your silky and damp hair.

“I, um, just came out for some water,” you add, crossing to the counter to grab the glass before returning to stand awkwardly next to the couch.

“Why does she call you angel?” he asks suddenly, pulling an arm up on the back of the couch, unintentionally opening up a perfect sized space for you to sit next to him.

You smile lightly and cross to sit next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion so as to not crowd him.

“My middle name is Angelica,” you replied softly. “She just took a liking to the pet name many years ago.”

He smiles softly at this explanation, suddenly aware that his other hand has strayed to the hem of his shirt hanging loose on your torso.

“Angel…” he tries, feeling the way it sounds in his voice, feeling the way the words taste as they roll off his tongue. He smirks, pinching the fabric at the edge of the shirt in between his fingers and releasing it.

“Can I call you that?” he breathes out, suddenly closer to your face than you had realized.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” you manage to say in an even tone, hand finally reaching out to touch his chest, flattening against his toned pecs, metal beads digging into your palm.

His eyes flutter, brain clearly short circuiting at the mention of praise, fingers stilling but breathing becoming more labored.

“Can I please kiss you?” you ask, eyes and voice hopeful. You palm the cross on the rosary, holding it tightly in your hand as you pull gently, bringing yourself closer to Doyoung as your eyes slip shut, not waiting for a response.

His lips are on yours suddenly, pressing firmly as his hand flies to your lower back, pressing you flush against his chest, capturing your hand in between your bodies. You refuse to let go of the rosary, pulling tighter so he’s forced to deepen the kiss.

You feel his hand push up the back of the shirt and up your back, as if reaching for a bra to unhook and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, knowing he is far less innocent than he seems.

You rise up on your knees, moving your legs to straddle him on the couch, suddenly feeling something firm against your bare thigh. Your grin grows, nuzzling against his nose teasingly.

“Well, well, look who isn’t such a good boy after all,” you growl out, unable to control how horny you are for this man under you.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss, brows furrowed in confusion at your comment. Reaching between your bodies, he pulls out the leather bible and you flush deeply, unable to process that you thought it was his erection.

You avert your eyes from his and reach an arm up to touch the back of your neck nervously but his hand quickly grabs your wrist as he moves your hand to his lap, eyes darkening. When he pushes you down against his sweatpants you feel him harder than you thought he would be, not to mention way bigger than you thought he would be.

“Who said I was a good boy, angel?” he asked quietly, almost sounding annoyed with you. He grips your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him before capturing your lips in his again.

It takes you a moment to respond, brain foggy at the name and sequence of events that had just unfolded. It doesn’t take you long to recover before slipping your tongue into his mouth hungrily, fingers lacing his hair to pull him desperately close.

You can’t help but move quickly with him, spreading your thighs to grind slow circles into his clothed crotch, biting back moans that bubble in your throat.

Hands are suddenly tugging at the hem of the shirt and you quickly oblige, peeling off the thin cotton and discarding it on the floor. Your chest is heaving as you sit on his lap in just the white boxer briefs, nipples erect and back arched to push your full chest towards him.

Doyoung hungrily licks his lips, eyes darting over your body as if there’s a time limit to the amount of time he has to look. You know you look good and he knew from the minute he saw you walk in the club that you would be on his lap, tits bouncing as he pressed up towards you with an experimental thrust. A small groan slides from his spit slicked lips as he slides one hand to your lower back and the other to cup your breast.

“Good God,” he lets out before lowering his mouth to your nipple, flicking eyes up to watch as you tumble contrasting curses from your plump lips.

He moves his mouth expertly, tongue laving over the sensitive skin, teeth dragging against your tight nipple. His hand on your lower back feels huge, fingers spread wide and gripping at your flesh as if you will disappear if he loosens his grip.

“Fuck me right here,” you can’t help but mutter into his open mouth after a particularly loud gasp flies from your mouth when you feel the tip of his dick collide with your clothed clit.

He pulls back, face seemingly questioning himself, eyes flicking over to the coffee table with the bible before turning upwards and fluttering shut.

You’re amazed at how this man can have his tit in your mouth one minute and then the next…

“Wait, are you praying?!” you ask in shock, stifling the laughter that builds in your throat.

He peeks at you with one eye open, smiling lightly before closing his eyes again and humming out an incoherent reply.

“Amen,” he says softly after a few more moments have passed.

You don’t have time to question him further when he quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing tight and toned abs and letting his broad chest crowd you in what could only be described as a bear hug. He pulls you close to his chest and you can feel his heartbeat reverberating through your own skin.

“The angel wants to get fucked, does she?” he growls as he digs his nails into your back.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” he adds before flipping you over suddenly, standing above you as he slides the boxers down to your ankles, leaving your socks on.

He then moves his hands to his own waistband, removing the sweatpants and revealing his hard cock, already flushed and angry with arousal. As he bends down, the rosary dangles from his neck and you can’t help but stare.

You’re laid out, exposed in front of him as he drops to his knees, nudging your knees to widen in front of him. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, controlling and calculated. You have to ask yourself the same question you asked in the club, who the fuck was this guy?

“You asked if I was praying earlier,” he speaks quietly, long fingers dragging along your sensitive inner thigh, avoiding where you want him the most.

“I just like to thank God before I eat,” he adds, eyes glimmering with mischief as he pushes forward, tongue licking a long stripe along your dripping core, sending shockwaves throughout your body.

Your brain is swimming with pleasure at the filthy words he spoke and the way his mouth is warm against your burning core, tugging on his hair and slipping your hand down to his neck to stroke the shorter strands there to encourage him.

His muffled moans send vibrations along your folds and shivers up your spine as he laps at you like it’s the fucking last supper. You feel your release close, thighs pulling in to tighten around his face. He shoves them back open every time they threaten to suffocate him, giving him access to every inch of you. 

Your orgasm creeps up on you and you are suddenly screaming his name, head thrown back on the back of the couch, vision blinding white. Your eyes are clenched shut as you make every attempt to slow your heavy breathing.

You feel warm hands under your thighs and realize he's lifting you from the couch. You let your arms fall lazily around his shoulders and your head loll over as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you gently on your back, he’s suddenly leaning over you, lips brushing against your jaw, peppering kisses up to your ear and leaving more along your hairline.

“That was heavenly,” you sigh out, feeling dizzy from the soft gestures.

He smiles and pushes your hair from your face, leaning down to kiss you. You can’t get enough of his lips, every time they press over yours you’re drawn in closer, wanting more and more.

“I know you said you wanted me to fuck you on the couch and as much as I would love to bend you over and slam into you, I want to see your face when I make you cream on my dick,” he says as if it’s the simplest and most normal sentence on the planet. He sits up, reaching a veiny hand over to the bedside table and into the shallow drawer there.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment until you feel his fingers on you again, rubbing slow circles on you, gathering your post orgasm arousal as he tears open a condom that is carefully dangling between his lips. He slicks up his rock hard erection with your wetness before sliding it on and running a hand through his now messy hair.

You adjust yourself on the bed, propping your knees up so he can crawl between them. He brings his face close to yours and drags his tongue lazily against your lower lip before pushing into you. 

Your eyes widen, feeling the stretch of his massive cock and the look on his face when he finally feels himself inside you. You swear he’s seen the second coming of Christ and you wish you could take a picture of the pure bliss.

It doesn’t take long for him to pick up a consistent pace of pumping in and out of you, grunts and moans falling from his lips and sounding almost like he’s singing. You almost come at the sight of the rosary dangling above you and moving with each thrust, knowing how fucking filthy this is but how it’s the most turned on you’ve been in ages.

He’s close and you don’t know how much longer you can last after him so you hook your legs around his back and push on him, silently begging to flip over. He obliges and lets you return to a similar position from the couch, him seated against the pillows and you rising up and down on his cock. This drives you insane, watching his face contort in pleasure as you ride him, letting his name fall over and over from your lips like your own prayer.

“Angel, I’m so close,” he moans, pulling you so tight against his chest that you feel yourself becoming one with him. You move together, moan together, and release in strangled cries together. 

You pull back, out of breath and struggling to compose yourself, glancing down at your chest to see an imprint of the cross in between swollen breasts. He has a hazy, happy grin across his face and you know you have to look the same in this moment.

He reaches out, brushing pads of his fingers across the imprint on your chest before dipping down to kiss at the cross mark.

You think your heart might explode in that very moment, suddenly visualizing the two of you holding hands in a church pew or leaning over candles, lighting them and bowing your heads in silence.

What the fuck has gotten into you?

–

Once he finishes tucking the plush duvet around your naked body, he lays flat on his back, exhaling in relaxation for what sounded like the first time that night, and humming out an almost angelic note.

“And on the seventh day, God looked at all he had made and rested from the work he had done,” Doyoung paraphrased, grinning at his joke, turning slightly to nuzzle his face into your bare shoulder.

Your cheeks warmed and eyes welled as you watched your dark haired lover drift off into sleep, arms laying beside him, not clinging to you as they had been all night, as if fully relaxed at how you seemingly fit so easily into his bed, into his life.

Checking the time, you unlock your phone, lower the brightness, and fire off a couple check-in texts to your friend and one to your mother asking if you completed your sacraments as a child and if she knows where your old prayer book is. You can’t believe this man is reigniting this in you and while you know no amount of good sex is going to fully pull you back into a toxic institution, you see the good in him and wonder if there is a world where the two of you can balance his faith and your more progressive views.

The next morning comes quicker than you had anticipated and light is streaming through the sheers covering the floor to ceiling windows. You glance over to see a still sleeping Doyoung, surprised once you check the time, knowing he probably starts his day at the office before you. You check your phone, frustrated at how quickly it will soon be the time when your boss is checking in to see if you are working from home or coming into the office. You send off a quick message to let them know you will have a late start to the day, working from your apartment.

They reply with a teasing tone, noting that you and your friend must have gotten into some fun the night prior since she had called off entirely. Oh boy, couldn’t wait to hear about that.

You roll over, seeing Doyoung’s eyes open in narrow slits, running a wet tongue over his dry lips.

“Morning star,” he smiles at you, placing that same strong hand on your lower back, pulling you gently closer to him.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giggling as his fingers brush lightly over your spine, tickling you.

“Can I make you coffee?” he asks, pressing lips softly to your temple, holding there and breathing in the scent of your hair, still faintly holding the floral notes from his shampoo.

“You don’t have morning prayers to get to?” you tease, pushing your lips towards his, silently asking for a kiss.

He pulls back, knitting his brows together and almost rolling his eyes.

“You really have me all wrong you know,” he starts, pushing strands of hair from your face before cupping your cheek gently, just as he had in the kitchen last night when you first got back.

“Yes, I have my beliefs and values that ground me. But that doesn’t mean I abstain from every activity marked as a sin in the bible,” he continued, his voice even and strong but not mean.

“I would have thought that would have been obvious by everything we did last night,” he added, pressing a little more firmly on your lower back, gliding his palm down to the slope of your ass to grasp at the skin there.

You gulp audibly, startled by his candid admission. Maybe you did have him all wrong. Maybe you judged this book by the cover too quickly, your opinion shadowed by everything you knew from the devout adults you had grown up around. You had always assumed it was black and white, no gray space between for any compromise.

All you could do in that moment, overcome with emotions you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, was pull him close to you and connect your hips with his to slowly create friction between the two of you. You hungrily captured his lips in yours, sighing into him as his fingers gently tugged your hair and brought you to another two unholy orgasms.

–

You don’t bother showering again, opting to take Doyoung up on that ride home from his driver who arrives in less than fifteen minutes, despite the morning rush hour traffic. You’re soon stepping out onto the busy streets, feet back in those painful boots and coat wrapped tightly around you to cover your revealing outfit you still can’t believe you wore out all night (but probably have to thank for this entire encounter).

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a lost little angel!” comes a familiar voice, catching you as you are approaching the black car, the driver standing with a neutral expression waiting to open the door for you.

“Jungwoo, hey,” you start, stepping towards the man who is placing his motorcycle helmet on the seat, arms crossed as he leans gently against the expensive bike. 

He’s wearing low rise leather pants with a matching belt adorned with a large silver buckle. His jacket is open and you can see a tight and cropped red shirt underneath, exposing much of his toned abs and navel. Nude color blocking rose up the sides of the shirt, covered in black crescent moons and he is wearing a stack of gold chains tight around his neck. A large green stone is dangling from his ear, moving as he speaks.

His hair is fluffy from the helmet, eyes smudged lightly with dark liner, most likely still from the night before. He looks absolutely unreal and your mind drifts to images of your friend pressed between him and the equally sexy Jaehyun in the crowded bar, stirring tension deep in your core.

“How was your night?” you add, stepping closer to him, curious about what your friend had gotten into.

“I’m sure just as sinful as yours by the look of this walk of shame,” he almost sneers back, tone unmatched to the large grin covering his face from his lips to his eyes. He grabs your phone from you and punches his number in, punctuating with a sultry wink. His eyes are flicking up and down your body dramatically, making overly exaggerated facial expressions at you.

You roll your eyes at him, turning to head to the car, wagging your fingers at him seductively and putting extra emphasis in your steps as you know he has his eyes glued to your ass as you slide into the car.

When Doyoung emerges from the shower with a towel tied low around his waist he finds Jungwoo lounging in his favorite chair in the living room, flipping through a magazine he had left here the week before. He looks up to make eye contact with Doyoung, smiling and letting a low whistle slide out his lips.

“Don’t start, Woo,” Doyoung warns curtly, pouring two cups of coffee and preparing them the way they both like.

“Look look, I have Father Lee on speed dial, he’s ready to do an emergency confession for you in the lobby of your office if you need it this morning,” he laughs back, closing the magazine and accepting the mug.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to reach over and slap the back of Jungwoo’s head. He knows his friend is exaggerating but he had consequently already sent Mark a text that he would stop by the church later that day for a chat. Having one of your oldest friends be a priest that was known for being more on the liberal side had its perks.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my escapades all over town or upload racy videos into the shared DJJ iCloud album, doesn’t mean I’m not getting my dick wet,” he replies after a long sip of much needed coffee.

Jungwoo almost spits out his coffee at the vulgar comment, lips twisting up into a wicked smile as he watches his friend, relaxed and shirtless mid-morning on a work day.

“Something’s different about you, Kim Doyoung,” Jungwoo chuckles, tapping back into his conversation with Jaehyun from earlier, who had frantically texted him from the office that Doyoung hadn’t shown up for their morning meeting and wasn’t replying to any of his texts.

“I guess you could say I was touched by an angel,” Doyoung replies wickedly, winking at Jungwoo before standing and letting his towel fall from his hips, whipping it at leather clad knees before walking slowly back into the bedroom.

Jungwoo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads across his face, watching his friend’s toned ass move away from him and examining the red marks dotting his broad back.

“Oh Jaeeeeee, I have an idea for something that could be fun and oh so messy,” Jungwoo whispers into the phone as he steps out onto the balcony, lighting a blunt in the cool morning air, surrounded by the sounds of the bustling city below.

back to you masterlist

badboy!san

a part of you wishes that you listened to wooyoung more carefully when he first warned you about his roommate. 

that you really sat down and considered what your best friend of six years was telling you, so warningly and cautiously, almost with a preconceived look of fear and sympathy in his eyes. 

like he knew, in just a matter of months, you’d be completely ruined and destroyed by the first boy you’d ever been with. 

“whatever you do, y/n, please, just stay away from choi san, okay?” wooyoung begged quietly, his tone the most serious and soft spoken you’d heard in your life from him.

“you have to promise me.”

but you heard the words and pushed them off carelessly, promised him with a roll of your eyes and a scoff that followed that of course, if he really wants, you’d stay away from choi san.

❥ part 1

❥ part 2

❥ part 3

❥ part 4

❥ part 5

❥ part 6

❥ part 7

❥ part 8

❥ part 9

❥ part 10

❥ part 11

❥ part 12

status: complete

playlist (thank you ❤️‍🔥 anon): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gkBWfsydZc5v12OtdWXyE?si=VLCLqVWGTq-KpJErQcWi9A

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @baekhvuns​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @nlost21​ @cherryeonii​ @hwaven​ @lost-midnight-flower​ @toothlessshiber​ @utopiakys​ @seonghwanotes​

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