At sea

Updated for ‘23

A/N: I really appreciate your love & support for this story! Thank you ❤️

Last Updated: 17/01/2023

X Reader Fiction

Kim Gwang Il x Reader Owned Chapter 1

Kim Gwang Il x Reader Owned Chapter 2

In Progress: Kim Gwang Il x Reader Owned Chapter 3

X Reader Headcanons

[Chapter 2]

Interaction: Kim Gwang-Il & Reader

Genre: Crime

[R13]

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Sorry for the wait! This chapter is shorter than the last but I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Summary: You were going to get out of there. Gwang-Il had left you to the boys as he said he would, but to your surprise, they hadn’t touched you yet. But with them on your tail, how will you plot to escape?

"You've got work to do,"

One of the members, which you remembered to be 'Su-Jin', called out to you. You had found the other members in another room, their uninviting, sharp glares on piercing through you as you entered.

"What work?" As you spoke, the wave of goosebumps and your visible, inconsistent shivers awakened your awareness; you were still in your underwear alone. Almost as if on cue, Su-Jin tossed a satin red robe at you, "Before you say anything, it's oversized because it used to be Mr. Kim's."

Turning his back, Su-Jin continued with what he was doing, "As for the work, I'm referring to chores. We need to keep you busy and away from planning to escape, you see. Apart from that, there's a lot of clothes we'll need you to clean up." You flinched at the thought of what those clothes looked like. On top of that, the last thing you intended to do was assist criminals. They were not stupid; it was no surprise they expected you to devise a plan.

But you weren't stupid either, and you weren't going to let anything stop you. You were going to play along for now.

"No funny business," the other member in the room pointed a finger at you as he took a sudden step forward with a slight snarl sharpening his features, "you have a time limit. If you're not done by then, you'll have to face the consequences. Clear?"

Your eyes met with the finger in close proximity with your face, but you weren't intimidated at all. Matter of fact, you had to resist the urge to smile. "Where can I find the clothes?"

The member escorted you to a smaller room, and you followed as he entered. He gestured to a bath tub, gray and matted with age, and filled with bloodied clothing as you imagined, but the sight instantly caused your stomach to plummet. Who were you kidding? How could you play along and wash the blood of Gwang-Il's unfortunate victims?

"C-Can't we just throw these away?"

"Don't be stupid."

Wincing at the guilt gnawing at you, you struggled to form a sentence, "D-Do I really have to...wash blood?" In response, he threw you some gloves as if that would ease the situation for you. "Are you serious? That's not the only issue here. I'm not just gonna clean up the mess of a bunch of heartless criminals!"

"Then talk to Mr. Kim about it. He's the brains of this operation."

"In fact, yes I will."

Immediately after letting those words escape your mouth, you regretted it. There was no way you were in shape to speak with him now. "I'll escort you-"

"Uh, never mind," you cut him off and raised your palm, "I’ll go later. Just leave me be." He briefly glared at you as if he was suggesting to watch your tongue before he left you alone with your thoughts. And you thought this was a perfect opportunity to start devising a plan. You inhaled deeply to feel tranquil, but all that came of it was the pungent odor of old blood. You hated that you had to do this.

But you guessed this wasn’t your decision to make.

As you scrubbed at the blood-soaked clothes, you tried with great effort to hold back your tears. Your hands shook as you worked, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. How were you so unlucky that you ended up here, stuck in this hellhole? How would you escape?

You remembered the moment of your capture so vividly and you couldn't help but grit your teeth furiously at your ridiculous choice to ignore your parents' number one rule. Now, you were paying the price.

But you weren't going to give up. You had survived for this long so you assumed you were lucky enough to survive a little longer. You would find a way out of this mess, no matter what it took. You just had to keep your head down and play along for now, biding your time until the opportunity for escape presented itself.

You scrubbed harder at the clothes, trying to rid them of the stains that seemed to symbolize all of the horrors that you experienced. Maybe, just maybe, if you could wash them clean, you could wash away the guilt that weighed heavy on your conscience. Maybe, just maybe, you weren't beyond redemption.

But how were you going to get out of here? The members of the group were probably supposed to always watch you, their eyes observing your every move. You had to bide your time and wait for the perfect opportunity.

So, with each day that passed, you began to eavesdrop on their conversations, trying to gather any information that could be useful to your escape. You plan from the beginning was coming up again. You did as you were told and played along with it. It wasn't easy to listen in as they were often alert, their voices barely above a whisper. But you were determined.

As you finished up your futile duties and you overheard a hushed conversation between two of the members. They were talking about a job they had planned for the evening - a job that would take them away for hours. You strained to hear their words, trying to piece together their plan.

This was your chance to escape. At least a million thoughts crossed your mind; most were of fear and uncertainty, but truth be told, you didn’t care. You were not going to let an opportunity like this pass, though escape was probably more difficult than it seemed. But you were ready to do whatever it took to get out of there.

You waited impatiently until the members were all away, then gathered your meager belongings and crept out of the bedroom. Your heart pounded in your chest as you made your way through the dingy rooms, your paranoia gnawing at your determination.

As you reached the front door, you hesitated. This was it - your chance to flee and never look back. But what if you were caught? You couldn't shake the fear that Gwang-Il would track you down and punish you for your disobedience. His face was certainly the last thing you wanted to see.

You took a deep breath and stepped out into the night, determined to put as much distance between yourself and the group as possible.

You knew you had to keep moving - there was no telling how long it would take Gwang-Il and the others to realize that you were gone, and you didn't want to be around when they did.

You forced yourself to your feet and kept on walking, the faint glimmer of light on the horizon guiding you forward. You had no idea where you were going, but you knew you had to find a way to get help. You had to find a way to get back home to your parents, who you expected to be devastated.

You had no idea how much time had passed or how much distance you had covered, but you couldn't afford to stop. You had to keep moving, no matter how tired you were. You dragged your feet along the ground as you pushed yourself to the limit, your body aching with each step. Your mind was numb with exhaustion, and all you wanted to do was collapse and rest. But you couldn't give in to that temptation.

You had to keep going, no matter what.

So you kept on walking, your feet pounding the pavement in a relentless rhythm. You didn't know where you were going, but as long as you were far away, that was all that counted.

Out of nowhere, a voice rang out from behind you, sending shivers down your spine. “Where are you going?” Gwang-Il was right on your heels, his presence looming closer than you had expected. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to see Gwang-Il standing there, with what seemed like a genuine display of confusion on his face. However, it was quickly replaced with a chilling grin, his eyes glowing with a maniacal light.

Panic took hold and you bolted, your legs pumping beneath you as you fled through the darkness. The fear coursing through your veins acted as a driving force, urging you to move faster. But as you glanced over your shoulder, you saw that Gwang-Il was nowhere to be found. Confused and disoriented, you slowed your pace and scanned the area, searching for any sign of him. But the area was empty, and there was no trace of the menacing figure. Had you really outrun him, or was this just a twisted game? You couldn't be sure, but you knew you had to stay alert. Gwang-Il was a predator, and you were his prey.

As you frantically searched for an escape route, you noticed a shadowy figure lurking in the distance. It was one of Gwang-Il's henchmen, standing sentinel as if waiting for you to make a move. Your heart sank as the realization hit you - there was no way out. Gwang-Il had you completely surrounded, and you were trapped in his web of deceit.

You stood with your eyebrows furrowed and your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. Was this the end for you? You had been foolish to think that you could escape so easily, and now you were probably in an even worse situation than you were before.

Dazed, you turned back to see that Gwang-Il had returned, flashing a wide smile, and slowly but surely, he showed off a coin he had,

[Chapter 1]

Interaction: Kim Gwang-il & Reader

Genre: Crime, Smut, Angst

[R18] Warnings: Forced Stripping, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Job, Kidnapping, Strangling, Mention of Torture, nothing else I think

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: School is over for the summer, and after lounging in a meadow, a group of anonymously infamous men steal you away for their own benefits.

Finally. The school year was finally all over. You had been through a shit ton of things that year, both good and bad; but as a pessimist, the negatives outweighed the positives, and as a whole, they were more memorable, truth be told. Regardless, it was finally over. For the time being, and a time you would embrace.

In fact, you were willing to do something you wouldn’t usually bother to do. You lived by connections to narrow, somewhat concealed streets and alleys in South Korea, and there was no surprise that it was barren of resilient weeds that sprout from cracks in the ground.

With such a strange atmosphere, and given that you had lived there your whole life, your parents had always been insistent on never taking shortcuts; never talking to or engaging with strangers; never staying out too late; and everything similar parents would enforce. No doubt, you felt they exaggerated a little too much when they resorted to reminding you on a daily basis, but you understood that they seriously prioritized your safety. If you stayed out for an hour after curfew, they would go incredibly insane.

However, they never had a problem with you coming home a few hours later than some time after school ended every day, so it would be no issue for you to make your way to the closest heaven you could find. A meadow. In truth, it was nothing compared to heaven, but sprawling in the field where the grass is actually greener; the large number of dandelions and chrysanthemums that surround you in the stillness of their meditation; breeze little to none; and the sweet sound of birds chirping in their habitats, not too distant from you was a dream you were practically itching to live.

So, you did.

And there you arrived: for what seemed like at least half an hour of walking down an empty road in the blazing sun, new beads of sweat trickling down your face and a wave of burning cold ghosting over you as your knees almost gave way. You almost reconsidered coming all that way, but there was no way you could drag yourself out of the situation in your ever-increasing fatigue. Immediately, and with visible frustration, you unzipped your bag and pulled out your plastic water bottle, which was half empty and contained water that had easily warmed up during the day, and you drank until you finished what was left, inconsistently fanning yourself with your unoccupied, sweaty hand, though you knew very well it would be an effort to no avail.

You took a step off the road and right onto the meadow, squinting as you attempted to look forward; it had become clear to you that laying on your back was now out of the question, but there was shade not too far away under a tree, its glowing leaves in all their glory, standing out in the field of somewhat tall grass.

Action plan in mind, you moved in the tree's direction, sighing in relief as you wiped the new and old perspiration from your forehead. As you approached the tree, you huddled right up against it, catching your breath and drawing your bag to your chest as you observed the surrounding environment. You may have been in a predicament, but it was no lie that the view was astounding. It could have been a magnificent piece for your photography club, but school was over already.

A few minutes passed, your vision blurring to a degree as your eyes slowly closed, but you heard the rustling of what might have been a squirrel speeding past. Jolting, your eyes instantly opened: wide and expressive of confusion, followed by the new, zooming thoughts in your mind; a large percentage of which were nonsense, but eventually, when they started to make sense, the question of what time it could be was the first to occur to you.

You were aware that the journey from school to the meadow was quite far, so you imagined that quite a long time had passed as it stood, despite staying in your spot for what you thought to be just a few minutes. Your phone was in your bag’s main compartment, so it would take no effort to check the time… Or so you originally believed.

You hadn’t noticed before, but matter-of-factly, your bag had gone missing. But how? There was no denying that you had placed it on your lap, so as your search around the tree and the entire shaded area was unsuccessful, panic replaced your confusion. Had it been stolen? How was that possible?

Defeated, you ran toward the road to see if anyone was around. In the distance, one not too far was a black rover which stood out suspiciously and began to move in your direction a few moments after you stepped out onto the road. Red flag. The literal epitome of a red flag. You knew one when you saw one, and this couldn’t be more obvious. You couldn’t care less if you were somehow being insane, because you weren’t going to take any risks.

You needed a plan.

And fast. The vehicle moved closer to you with accumulating speed, and you figured your options were ridiculously limited. You could only run, but it would only be a waste of your breath because outrunning the vehicle was an unrealistic move.

So, that was it. You approached a dead end in your mind, and before you could express your frustration and agitation, you felt a cold grip on your wrist, and immediately, you were dragged into the car, another hand covering your mouth temporarily before eventually ceasing your ability to speak with some duct tape. Your arms were bound behind your back uncomfortably in the struggle, deep thoughts left you visibly shaken: utterly bewildering awareness of what was happening; a confirmation that everything that unfolded before you was real.

Real. It was all real. And it was about to get a lot more real. Two men, who gave a slightly immature but dangerous aura, chatted among themselves: one driving and the other drinking from a bottle. You sat beside a man who seemed to be in charge based on your judgement of his isolation from everyone else, and his silent engagement in a novel of some kind. Just sitting in his presence was enough to evoke an unnerving feeling from you, and that was on top of the fear of whatever his capabilities could be.

Keeping your eyes of the world outside through the flaunting windows, you didn’t hesitate to allow your tears to gloss your eyes and pour down, eyes stinging as your head rested on the window.

There was no escaping this.

At your arrival, you were greeted by the mocking grins of two other gang members, and you struggled in the grip of the two gang members that were in the car with you. You could not scream to your full potential because the duct tape still muffled all of your helpless cries as the men forcefully stripped you, but as they reached for your red lace bra, the gang leader called out to them.

“Su-Jin, leave her,” you heard, and to this you heaved a deep sigh of relief.

“What’s the problem?” One of the two gang members who were handling you turned to the gang leader who was sitting in one of the bleak corners of the cold room, earpieces in ears and a translucent, bloodied glove dangling from his fingertips.

“Give her to me.”

In that moment, you could have sworn your heart contorted. But you weren’t surprised - matter of fact, you imagined you would probably get more unlucky. You almost beat yourself up for getting your hopes up, even a little, because as you figured before, things were about to get real.

Too real. Horrifically real. Whatever you would experience next could only be more horrific than movies portray them to be; and the movies you watched with this similar atmosphere never seemed to be sugar-coated.

In the distraction of the gang members, you freed one arm somehow, and peeled off the duct tape from your lips; you flinched in response, but as soon as it was off your face, you crumpled it and threw it to the ground in one swift motion. Just as easily as you freed yourself, your arm was grabbed again, but you had granted yourself the freedom to speak, so you could manage for the time being.

“Hey… Hey, you! Are you insane? Let me go! I swear, you’re not getting away with this. You better-”

Immediately, one of the gang members threw a palm over your lips, pressure causing your head to crash back onto his chest.

“I’ll take her, but you’ll see her later on,” the gang leader continued, rising to his feet and sauntering toward the three of you, flashing a brief smile. The gang members nodded and handed you over to him, and he did not drag you away or even take your hand, but you still felt compelled to follow him. You had no idea who he was; you had no clue what he was capable of; you had no clue what he wanted either; but you knew for sure that disobeying was out of the question.

He led you to a room; it was a bedroom to be exact, but compared to the room you had just come from, the new atmosphere flooded a halcyon ocean in your mind, despite previously being tense as a result of the situation. The bedroom was well planned and beautifully decorated; it seemed to be somewhat emblematic of the Victorian era.

But the ocean cleared along with your astonishment as the gang leader cleared his throat before relentlessly pushing you to the bed. In shock, you sit up and look up to him, eyes locked on him despite his constant movement as he paced up and down.

“Who are you? What do you want from me? Why can’t you just leave me be? Why? Why me? Answer me!”

He didn’t respond to your question, but after a few moments he finally stopped pacing and looked directly at you.

“You’re lucky to still be unharmed,” crouching down, he kept his eye contact on you, “You’re the first one to make it to this point without being tortured. So, consider yourself lucky.” At his remark, you were both confused and horrified, and when he placed a cold palm on your knee, you shivered and tried to shake it away, but your attempt was unsuccessful.

“What do you want from me, then?”

“We’ll continue this conversation after I put you in your place,” he smirked.

Before you could react in any way, he had his hands gripping your neck, and in your surprise you clawed at his knuckles - to which he did not flinch - and you attempted to pry his hands from your neck; this was also to no avail. He watched intently as you struggled for air, kicking and lifting your head every so often. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew he wouldn’t kill you. That was why he brought you here, right? And he specifically mentioned that the other gang members would see you later. He really knew how to put you in your place.

When he finally let go, you felt your chest heave as you gasped, and when you gathered enough energy, you tried to move further out into the bed and away from him, but he grasped your ankle in time. You groaned, under the impression he was not quite done yet. And it terrified you. You didn’t hesitate to let your tears flow; as a matter of fact, you wanted him to see that you were afraid. Anything to prevent getting hurt anymore, right? That was your goal.

“Don’t...don’t…” You struggled to gather your words, “Don’t hurt me, please.”

He paused momentarily before taking some time to look behind him at the door. You bit your lip, quivering in unadulterated fear in your burning anticipation of what was to come. You knew you would never get what you wanted, no matter how hard you begged for it.

No matter how bad you wanted to get out of there unscathed.

“Who are you?” You asked again with a hoarse whisper, but as he finally turned his head to make eye contact you jolted, teeth chattering; and your lungs tried their best to compensate for the lack of air you received previously.

“Kim Gwang-Il,” he chuckled briefly before he spoke in monotone, rising to his feet and lifting his knees onto the bed, then moving in your direction, face expressionless.

“Kim Gwang-Il?” You expelled a shaky breath, grabbing onto a pillow as you held it up to your chin, concealing your chest and providing somewhat of a protection, “T-Tell me...Why did you bring me here?”

He smiled for a moment, looking away temporarily as he picked up some gloves from the nightstand and put them on before he moved his focus back to you, “If I kill you now, I’ll only get one chance to hear you suffer under my hand. So I’ll try something slightly different.”

“Huh? Something different? What do you mean by-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Gwang-Il had his arms either side of you, and in your struggle, you could only move your head. He did nothing but study your expression and caress your cheek. Smiling, he moved down away from your face, and when his hand was level with your hips, he reached for the waistband of your underwear. Immediately, you grasped onto his wrist which made him look up.

“Other option is me leaving you with the boys,” he curled his lips inward and raised his eyebrows, “Choose wisely.”

“Y-You’re just gonna kill me no matter what! It doesn’t matter what I pick!”

“Did I not say that I’d try something else? I’m not going to kill you,” he laughed; one could say his lack of sanity was summarised in that alone, but there had to be an abundance of horrific activities he had previously engaged in. None of which you wanted to hear about.

“But didn’t you say that those men would ‘see me later’? What was that about?”

“You’ll find out then, but for now, I’ll tell you that the outcomes are quite different,” he nodded in a way that was self-evident he did not see this as a serious situation.

“Okay, okay fine… I’ll go with this.”

“Great choice.”

He continued, slipping a finger under your waistband and pulling your underwear down, before throwing it away. You felt the deepest shame you had ever felt in your life at that moment, and you felt an overwhelming feeling of tears threatening to break through. Holding your breath, you closed your eyes, and without your sense of expectancy, you gasped as you felt a sudden sensation between your legs. Your eye instantly flew open, and as soon as they did, your focus caught onto the rapid movement of Gwang-Il’s fingers in and out of your wet pussy, and in reaction, you tried to stop the uncontrolled moans he elicited from you by covering your mouth with your hands, but all that came of that were incoherent, yet easily heard sounds which Gwang-Il seemed to live for, judging by his mocking grin.

Slowing down with his fingers, you grab his wrist once again, this time as encouragement, and it was so obvious what you wanted - it was written all over your face. Gwang-Il’s expression eventually faded along with the movement with his fingers.

“Hmm, this isn’t interesting. Find a way to interest me if you want to continue living,” he got off the bed and stood before you.

“What? You said you weren’t gonna kill me!” You were startled at his sudden remark; you didn’t even have a plan in mind. How would you get out of this one?

“Yeah, if you give me a reason otherwise,” he checked his fingernails, not focused on your reaction.

Sighing, you bit your lip before resorting to the only thing you could think of. You beckoned him, patting the edge of the bed, waiting for him to obey. When he did with no hesitance, you got off the bed and as you stood in front of him; you pushed him so that he laid on his back, and as soon as he hit the bed, he lifted himself up to an extent: his elbows pressed into the mattress, and his eyes were watching intently in anticipation.

Hesitantly, you crouched down and reached for his belt, fiddling with the buckle until it was free, and revealing his underwear, under which he was practically throbbing already. You knew he was enjoying this.

You bent your head slightly, wrapping your tender, fragile fingers around his cock, sliding your fingers up and down the length and watching his expression every now and again. He didn’t utter a word; he didn’t seem to flinch at all; and he didn’t show any other sign of pleasure. You needed to try harder, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. Dying today wasn’t on your To-do list.

You let your mouth do the work; it joined your fingers as you brought your lips to his tip, then practically consumed as much of his length that you could; then, you moved back up as you felt your gag reflexes act. You continued on with your best effort but he still would not react.

Were you doing everything wrong? Was he still going to kill you? You had no experience in this kind of thing, so the first thoughts that flooded your mind were thoughts of doubt. After letting go and panting, you looked up to him in frustration, running a shaky hand through your messy hair.

“Could do better,” he seemed exhausted; almost like he was no longer interested or feeling patient, “One second, ma’am.”

Gwang-Il sat up, buttoning up his pants again and sorting himself out before standing up again and walking toward a cabinet. By cocking your head, you could narrowly see that he was grabbing something out of a drawer.

When he turned around, you were puzzled. He held the ends of a piece of string as if he was presenting a gift. It soon clicked; as it did, you moved as far from him as possible - as far as the walls would let you.

“Please. Y-You don’t have to do this… Please! Please, I’m begging you… I don’t wanna die…” Tears had already broken through again, breathing inconsistent as you continuously snivelled, begging with sweaty palms sliding past each other and your knees forced against the floor.

“Please, I swear I’ll do anything! Please!”

“Wipe your tears. I’ll make a proposal,” he started, gesturing that you’d come over with a single finger, “If you want to live, you become my property from now on. I can’t let you leave here alive, so I’ll just keep you. Don’t frown, it’ll be quite fun, you know?”

Fun? Was life really that much of a joke to him?

In your helplessness, you nodded, but you knew you would try to escape one day. You just had to play along for the time being. Wiping your tears, you looked at him through red, glossy eyes.

“What in any of this do you find so pleasing? Huh?” You held in the urge to snarl.