You've heard of green flags. You've been warned about red ones. But him? He's a black flag baby-the last color your lungs will ever know when he drags you under. He's the one who'll hold you beneath the tide just to watch you claw at him, desperate and delirious, and then kiss the salt from your lips like he's the one saving you. You don't surrender to a man like him. You capsize for him. You go down with the ship, salt on your lips and his hand around your throat, knowing full well he'll drag you under and call it love. This isn't some sunlit, wind-in-the-hair pirate romance where hearts are stolen with roguish smiles and freedom tastes like rum on your tongue. No. This is something worse. This is tide-rot devotion. This is the kind of love that feels like a curse written in blood and seawater, the kind that gnaws at your bones long after you've drowned. You want his flag? Then be ready to wear his brand. Be ready to have his name scraped into your skin by the salt wind itself, to taste gunpowder on his tongue and call it a kiss. A Scientist✗Commodore romance.

"You lack morals," His chest seals you to the wall, breath running hot against the shell of your ear, "Gonna fuck them all into you-stroke by goddamn stroke-until even your sins start praying to me." A tale as old as time, but nothing like the one you know. ...You've heard of monsters in the shadows, haven't you? The ones that watch you from beneath your bed, waiting for you to dangle a limb over the edge. The ones that linger in your closet, just out of sight. You've feared them. Hated them. Tried to convince yourself they weren't real. But what about the one that doesn't hide? The one that doesn't need to. The one who sleeps in your bed with his name in your mouth? You've feared the darkness at your window. But what about the darkness inside your room? The one that breathes against your skin, tracing your pulse with its teeth. The one that pulls you into its chest, not to protect you, but to keep you there. To bury you inside it. To consume you. Softly. Completely. Like a prayer no one's meant to hear. You have feared things that scrape at your door. But what about the one who locks it? From the inside. With you still in it. Retelling Beauty and the Beast. A student✗teacher romance. Highest ranking: #1 in JJK on 3/06/2025 out of 26.4K stories #1 in Dark Romance on 29/01/2025 out of 60.6K stories #1 in StudentTeacher on 1/02/2025 out of 697K storeis #1 in Retelling on 7/02/2025 3.57 K stories #1 in Crimson on 19/07/2025 out of 1.67K stories #1 in Seduction on 1/08/2025 out of 5.91K stories

(21+ ONLY) She's small. She's fragile. She's breakable, I am not. I'm a monster. A sinner, who's far away from her imaginable prince charming. A psychopath with darker thoughts than a demon itself. A sadist, who gets turn on by other's pain and exploitation, especially her's. Should I let her see my demons that no one had ever seen? The demons that are full of tendencies to claim her raw, break her and most importantly, to show her what pain feels like in the most forbidden way? Copyright © 2023 by JEONPriyaa

"You beg me to end it, but the voices in my head are screaming at me to keep going." ©𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝟏𝟕 No translations allowed. |*Contains mature and triggering content*| 18+