#Best Place to Sell High End Cars

[pchautoworld2022]

PCH Autoworld: A house of pre-owned luxury cars, second hand used luxury premium cars in Gurgaon, Delhi NCR, Mumbai and India

[prael]

A Bargain To Remember

Kinktember Day 13: Car sex

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist

"Finally, a face to the name."

You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.

The surprise is that she knows you.

Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.

"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.

"I would like to make a purchase."

"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"

She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."

You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."

She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.

"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.

Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."

You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."

Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."

You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"

"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"

"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."

"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.

"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."

She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.

"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.

You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.

"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."

She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.

"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.

She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.

She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"

"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."

Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."

You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.

The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.

"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.

You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"

"Do it." She's insistent.

A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.

There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.

Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.

"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.

"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"

"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."

Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.

"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"

Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"

You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."

"You're going to manually record?"

"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.

She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.

A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.

A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.

"Where are we?" you ask.

"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.

"When are we?"

"2024."

"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"

She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"

"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"

She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."

Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.

"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."

"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.

And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.

"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.

She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.

"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.

Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.

It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.

You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.

She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.

You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.

Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.

She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.

You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.

You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.

"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."

You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.

"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."

You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.

You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.

"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.

"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.

Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.

Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.

You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.

"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.

Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."

She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.

You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.

"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."

"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.

"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.

She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."

You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.

A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.

You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.

Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."

"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."

You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.

The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.

"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.

It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.

"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."

Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.

From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.

Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.

And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.

"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"

"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."

"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.

"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.

You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...

"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."

You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.

She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.

"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.

There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.

"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.

You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.

"Incredible," you breathe.

Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.

"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.

"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.

"I'll get started."

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? Part 4

In which you finally come back home.

Warnings: alcohol use. angst. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Word count: 1.9k plus social media posts

- What's A Soulmate? - Part 1 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2 - What's A Soulmate? - Part 2.5 - What's a Soulmate - Part 3 - Master List

LittlestSainzSis honey, i'm home. user433 isn't it weird she's working for McLaren and not Ferrari??? >>>user3928 nope! hope this helps! user2918 press officer job right out of school? must be nice being a nepo baby >>>user328 she literally worked for Carlos and Lando for two years before going to uni at NYU??? And she has a double degree in PR and business??? >>>usesr322 just say you're jealous next time, it'll be quicker. McLaren So glad to have you back in the paddock!!

LittlestSainzSis fast cars go vroom OscarPiastri so you're who Zak was yelling at to get behind the barrier over the radio??? >>>LittlestSainzSis oops!

LittlestSainzSis that feeling when you wake up and realize it's race day!! user3928: face card never declines user298: blah blah, proper name, place name, back story stuff LandoNorris: don't let that cute face fool you, she was yelling at Oscar and I ten seconds after I took this. >>>LittlestSainzSis neither of you were listening!!! God, this is 2019 all over again, isn't it? >>>user992 ariana what are you doing hereeeeee??? >>>user9383 seriously the first time Lando's in the comments in literal years. tf??? >>>user938 so we're all just going to ignore him calling her cute??? okay???

LittlestSainzSis the boys are ready for race day!!! McLaren best press officer award goes to you bby! >>>user382 admin is unhinged today, I see user0392 i just love seeing Lando back on her feed. >>>user3938 seriously. i feel like mom and dad are back together again. >>>user3844 i'm so glad i don't have to be a child of divorce anymore.

LittlestSainzSis caught someone being a grumpy gills today during the presser. LandoNorris i was probably hungry >>>LittlestSainzSis i think oscar had just told you he was getting sushi with Lily tonight and you got all pouty >>>user948 not her selling out Lando in the comments user938 Chaos Gremlins back to terrorizing paddock! war is over!

Miami May 2024

“Fifteen times Lando Norris has stood on the podium, but never on the top step, until now! It’s a landmark day for Lando! Lando Norris wins for the first time in Formula One! It’s victory in Miami for Norris and McLaren! The British drivers dream is realized and at the 110th attempt, he’s done it! He’s won it! Look what it means to Zak Brown! At long last, Lando is your winner!” 

Tears stream down your face as you listen to Alex Jacques call the end of the race in your headphones, his voice filled with glee and excitement that matches the feeling in the McLaren garage. After yesterday’s DNF for Lando, it had been pretty doom and gloom on his side of the garage. 

Your heart had ached when you caught sight of him that afternoon, sitting in the glass enclosed conference room that the team used to go over race data. He had been all alone, spinning aimlessly in one of the chairs, face drawn and shuttered. You had wanted to go to him then but hadn’t worked up the courage. 

Things were still…delicate between the two of you. After that first night in Australia, Lando had kept his promise to win your friendship back. You more often than not found your morning coffee order sitting at your desk waiting for you during the week with a silly note written hastily on a posit in his chicken scratch writing that only you seemed to be able to decipher. 

A few treats and free coffee weren’t going to be enough to bring back that casual intimacy that you and Lando had though, you both knew that. The walls you had built up so high around your heart designed specifically for the British driver were still solidly in place and you refused to go running back into his arms so easily. 

And then, Miami happens.

The hot sticky humidity clings to your skin as you watch Lando climb out of the car behind the black and white number 1 sign, the first time he’s been able to park his Formula 1 car right in the middle of parc fermi. You’re not entirely sure where the humidity of Florida ends and the tears still falling from your eyes begins, you’re such a mess. 

If you were to think too hard about it, the fact that you were a complete puddle of jumbled up emotion would surely scare you a little. Those walls, they couldn’t be crumbling now, could they? They couldn’t be slowly tumbling down, allowing for the while possibility of allowing Lando back into your life like he had been before? 

You don’t have time to get too lost in those dangerous kinds of thoughts though because soon after he hops off the car, he’s running straight over to the garage crew and leaping into their waiting arms. He’s waited for so long for this, so many poor performances, so many mistakes and problems with the car had sent him spiraling for so many years. There had been too many nights you had spent with him when he was barely more than a teenager, sat on the floor lamenting about how shit his car was, how shit his driving was, and if he was destined to be one of those midfield drivers that never won anything in their career. 

All of those doubts are erased now and your tears are falling again as the weight of what he’s done settles over the paddock. His engineers and mechanics eventually place him back down on the ground and he’s hugging Zak next, the CEO of McLaren more of a father figure to him by now. Will gets a hug too, his engineer since he joined the team five years ago. 

And then, icy blue green eyes snag yours and everything else falls away in a muted hush. He’s smiling at you, that megawatt grin making his eyes crinkle up at the corners. It’s one of those genuine Lando smiles that you haven’t been on the receiving end of for far too long. Your heart stutters to a stop when you realize you’re his next target. What is he doing? You think frantically, mortified that you’re about to be the center of attention if he does what you think he’s going to do. 

And he does. He throws his arms around your shoulders and buries his head deep into the crook of your neck, a move that has camera shutters clicking furiously all around you. You, of course, instantly find your arms wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him to you despite the metal barrier between you. 

“You’re here.” He sounds surprised that you’d miss this moment. 

“Of course I am. My best friend just won his first Grand Prix.” You whisper into his ear as the crowd continues to grow louder. 

Lando pulls back then, tears shining in his eyes. The weight of your words settle on his shoulders and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look at you the way he is now. He tucks a strand of hair that’s fallen out of your pony tail behind your ear, looking at you like you’ve hung both the moon and the stars in the sky just for him. “I’m so glad you got to be here for this, pretty girl.” 

God, that nickname. It’s the first time you’ve heard it in years and it does significant damage to those carefully constructed walls. 

You smile up at Lando, a little bashful that everyone is watching you two talk so closely together. He returns the smile before turning around to answer a question from one of the officials. He needs to take care of post race inspections, which he does but not before turning back and tossing a wink at you over his shoulder. 

LittleSainzSis It has been a pleasure and privlidge watching you grow over all these years. Life may have taken us in different directions over the last few years but when I say there is no place I would have rather been this afternoon, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Your friendship means the entire world to me, Mr. Norris. I'm so proud of you. One win down, so many more to go. LandoNorris so glad you got to be there today, pretty girl xo >>>user948 WE GOT A PRETTY GIRL COMMENT. >>>user0383 i can die happy now user0832 i'm sorry but guys, she literally just friendzoned him so hard in that caption. >>>user9383 yeah, poor lando

LittlestSainzSis You're going to smell like champagne for weeks LandoNorris worth it user948 EXCUSE ME WHAT IS THAT FACE. explain yourself lando norris. user928 did we mean to post this on main ma'am??? user9482 @/littlestsainzsis giving us what we all crave: lando thirst traps. >>>littlestsainzsis don't say i never give you guys anything ever again ;) >>>user9482 omg hi queen

LittlestSainzSis find yourself a man that looks at you like Lan looks at that trophy user0382 LANNNN??? >>>user9484 I am unwell CarlosSainz He's sleeping with it tonight, isn't he? >>>LandoNorris who told you that??? user9383 i feel like i'm interrupting something here... user0309 this picture is...a choice...

The music of the Miami night club pulses through your body as you sink deeper and deeper into the VIP booth later that night. Lando hadn’t given you any room for arguments after all the media duties were done. You were coming out with him and the rest of the team to celebrate. You had barely tried to refuse, not giving him much of a fight because you secretly wanted nothing more. 

Now you sat in the leather booth situated high up in the dark Miami Beach night club that had invited Lando out the moment he had crossed the finish line earlier in the day. There were what felt like thousands of people, most of them were there to celebrate with Lando, hoping to get a glimpse of the driver. 

Alcohol burns at the back of your throat, blurring your vision nicely as you wait for Lando to return from the bar. You had insisted that he wasn’t the one who should be making drink runs tonight but he had insisted on getting you another one and hadn’t taken no for an answer. Carlos is sat next to you, nursing a drink while talking to Charles on his other side.

A small glass is set down in front of you, drawing your attention away from the DJ booth, where you had been starting. 

“Vodka sprite for my pretty girl.” Lando murmurs in your ear, the words sending a cool shiver up your spine.  

You desperately tamp down the way that being called his makes you feel. You cannot be going down that road. Not now when the friendship between the two of you is so fragile. You knew what it was like to lose him in your life and you weren’t sure if you were willing to risk losing him again. 

The same worries you had back before it all went sideways worm their way back into your consciousness. He was too important to you, too integrated into your soul that when he disappeared, it left you broken in a million pieces. You couldn’t risk that again. This had to be strictly platonic between you if it was going to work. You couldn’t afford to lose your best friend again. Those walls around your heart needed to be reinforced and brought back into working order because there was no way you could let this happen. 

“Dance with me?” The question is a husky one, whispered in your ear so no one else is privy to it. 

You know it’s dangerous. You should say no. But the vodka already in your system convinces you that it’s fine. It’s just Lando. So against your what your sober self would consider the best judgement, you feel yourself nodding, allowing Lando to tangle his fingers with yours and pull you out onto the dance floor. 

If you had been paying better attention, you would have seen the looks Carlos and Charles exchanged behind your back. They were well aware of the frosty relationship that Lando and you had over the last few years and this was a development no one had seen coming but everyone had been hoping for all the same. 

The EDM beats are strong and sensual as Lando leads you out onto the floor, hand firmly gripping yours. He finds an open spot and pulls you towards him, the heat of his body radiating off of him in waves. His hands land on your hips, fingertips gripping at your skirt a little harder than really necessary. You shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want his hands on your hips, his breath mingling with yours, his curls so dangerously close that you could easily rake your fingers through them. You shouldn’t and you can’t because he’s left you before and he could do it all over again. He’s abandoned you and didn’t come back and every sane thought in your body is screaming at you that this man is dangerous. He is dangerous to your heart and your head is thrashing around so loudly but it’s drowned out by the music. 

You simply can’t fight it when he pulls you impossibly closer, hands sliding from your hips lower, lower, lower until it’s almost indecent. The alcohol blurs the edges of your usually sharp judgement and it’s not helped by the fact that this man seems to have cast a spell over you. You can’t want this. Can’t love how the weight of his hands feel on your skin. Can’t adore how his lips tick up at the edges when he sees you walk into the garage during a race weekend. 

This is Lando after all. Your best friend. Your best friend who abandoned you once and had only barely just come back begging for forgiveness. You can’t allow him to knock down those walls so quickly, can you? 

His lips flutter over the damp skin at your temple, dusting the slightest kiss there, almost as if it’s a test. A test to see if you push him away or allow him in. 

A test that you fail. 

Because the moment his lips touch your skin, it feels like a bucked of ice water has been splashed over your head and you realize what the fuck you’re doing. Its too hot. Too close. Too much and you simply can’t have him touching you anymore. No, this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. Panic races through you as you stumble back out of his arms, logic finally winning out over your own heart’s stupidity. 

The delicate balance you had struck with him shatters in an instant because you both knew there was supposed to be more between you but you’re desperately scared and Lando is so wretchedly full of regret he can’t stand it. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all you manage to choke out before fleeing. 

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[tgmsunmontue]

Get your motor runnin' - 1/6

Bradley, a bit of a (very talented) grease monkey and Jake, who has been sent to see him because he's apparently the best mechanic Maverick knows.

A longer fleshed out fic at the request of @poetryandpickles based on their idea in this post. Likely going to be 3-4 parts and likely an excuse for lots of smut. Just as an FYI.

PART ONE

                It’s been a busy week but he’s managed to clear the bulk of the work, ordered parts actually arriving early or on time like some damned miracle. He’s managed to get people’s vehicles back to them before they expected, which always makes for happy customers. He has a loyal base, and he knows they recommend him wider afield. It keeps him busy and the bills paid. He likes it, positioned in the small area of Oak Hills. Close enough to both China Lake and North Island to enable visiting if he feels like it but not close enough that anyone can just pop in. Not that that stops Mav, but he suspects he could live in another country and Mav would still find a way of turning up unannounced.

                He hadn’t intended to become a mechanic, but he had sort of fallen into it. Time tinkering on cars with Mav and his struggle to remain focussed in the classroom had meant when he’d raised the idea of entering an apprenticeship with a diesel mechanic Mav had been incredibly supportive. After insisting he get his GED. That had been the incentive he’d needed to act, and then he’d finished up and entered his first year. He’d worked hard, and it had paid off, his boss involving him in more and more challenging jobs and Bradley grew into someone that could often tell what was wrong just by listening to the engine.

                Then he’d been encouraged to undertake further study, which he’d balked at, because study. But then learning about auto electrical work tied in so nicely with what he was already doing it didn’t even seem like study, simply common sense and he’d become the best damned mechanic Robbie had working for him, a fact he’d been proud of. Then he’d decided to start up his own business, sat down with Mav and Ice and talked about his parents’ house and life insurance and then they’d agreed. Robbie had a friend that was selling up and now he’s been here four years, and he thinks the locals might actually start calling him a local too soon. Any day now.

…            …            …

                Jake’s not sure why he’s driven all the way out here, he’s driven past three other mechanics on the way to this garage and it’s only because Maverick had recommended this place that he’d kept the address in his GPS and followed it out here. For nearly two fucking hours. Who drives a dodgy car two hours to get to the mechanic? He’s hot and tired, the air conditioning unit in his car broken, well, not broken but it’s leaking something Jake doesn’t want to look too closely at but which he hopes is water. The trunk of his car now fills up with water when it rains, which had been an incredibly unpleasant surprise to find when he returned from his most recent deployment. He likes water, but he doesn’t need or want it in his car.

                He pulls down a dusty road and looks around, a little worried suddenly that Maverick has sent him on a wild goose chase and he’s going to end up the next victim of a mass murderer. But no, there it is, a large shed with four roller doors, all open in deference to the summer heat. There’s two different types of tow trucks parked up out front, one looking large enough to tow a truck, and there’s also large earth moving equipment parked up and he wonders if he’s in the right place. Then he spies it, the sign declaring it as Bradshaw’s, and that’s who Mav had sent him to see. The best mechanic he knew, apparently, which Jake considers high praise coming from someone like Maverick Mitchell. He parks up and gets out, leaves the door open just in case he needs to run and make a fast get away; heads inside toward where he can music coming from a radio, Meat Loaf singing about love.

                “Hello?”

                He can see a body under an old van and he walks closer, repeats his greeting and hopes the guy isn’t too old. He doesn’t want to give him a heart attack or something. Then the creeper is coming from out beneath the beaten-up van and it’s legs legs legs and for fucks sake, who needs legs that long? This guy apparently, and the legs are clothed in grease-stained coveralls, but they’re tied around the guy’s waist, which is now appearing, and he’s wearing a threadbare white tank, and it’s damp with sweat, so damp Jake can see fucking nipples. He’s seen porn that starts like this.

                He swallows roughly, takes in the broad chest, arms, muscles and shoulders all appearing like he’s watching in slow motion and okay, the long legs make more sense now if they have to carry all that around. He thought that he might cause a heart attack but now he’s starting to wonder if he’s going to have one instead. He wasn’t expecting this. He’d been expecting someone Maverick’s age, or older. Jesus. He thinks the heat might be getting to him, because it suddenly feels much hotter than it was a few minutes ago.

                “Can I help you?” the guy asks, and he’s just lying there looking up at Jake, not even bothering to stand although he has raised his head a little and Jake can see his abdominal muscles and he was not prepared for this.

                “I’m,” he coughs to clear his throat, which is of course as dry as the desert. “I’m looking for Bradshaw?”

                “You found him. How can I help?” the apparent Bradshaw repeats, and he’s bracing and rolling off the creeper, coming to a stand in front of Jake, wiping his hands on a cloth pulled from his back pocket and Jake doesn’t know if it’s helped remove anything or just smeared it around some more.

                “I, uh. My car’s got some issues. My CO, uh, commanding officer, he said you were the best mechanic he knew.”

                “Of course he did.”

                “Do you know him?”

                “Maverick? Yeah, you could say that.”

                Jake is surprised he guesses right, then again he supposes some people would consider knowing Maverick a bad thing, and this man looks a little resigned and he wonders exactly what this guy has done to earn Maverick’s high level of admiration, because he’s never met a man harder to please.

                ���So he sent you here, without calling first to check to see if I had time to work on it. Do you have another ride, or a place to stay?”

                “Uh…” Jake blinks. He hadn’t thought of any of that, and he’s two hours away from his base accommodation in North Island. “Shit.”

                “Let me take a look. Might be able to get her fixed up straight away and get you back on the road.”

                If he can do that, then he really is the best mechanic.

PART TWO

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Chapter One

A/N: yeah, yeah, I know! This is super exposition-y, but we have to set it all up, besties! I promise Cassian and Nesta actually interact again in the next chapter 🫡 Also, for anyone who's nerdy like me, the Athletic has a really great article about just how complicated things get when a player gets traded. It's a fun read!

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian groans, tossing his phone on the coffee table, the device skittering across the wood without a care. He drops his head against the back of the sofa, digging his hands into his hair and dragging his fingers against the curly strands. He still can’t quite wrap his mind around it, and he half wonders if he’s imagining this entire phone call, but the tinny voice continues through the speaker even if he’s no longer listening.

Seattle.

He got traded to the Seattle Kraken.

The words continue to crash and echo in his mind, even as his agent goes through the usual spiel when trades happen. Expect a call from the coach, maybe even a few players will reach out once the news breaks. The Kraken’s director of team services will reach out with the finer details for a smooth transition. Reminders of the CBA mandates. Meetings with the trainers, the equipment team, and the coaching staff to look forward to. Practice schedule. It’s like information overload, a hurricane swirling through his head with hundred mile per hour winds.

It doesn’t help that his phone has already started to vibrate against the table, almost excessively. With a quiet huff that thankfully his agent doesn’t pick up on, already plowing forward into the exciting potential for re-signing with Seattle, Cassian snatches his phone back up. He minimizes the call screen and looks at his notifications. Of course. The news has already broken on Twitter. Damn ‘insiders.’

“Any questions for me, Cassian? Anything I can do for you?”

Cassian has to shake his head, clearing his still spiraling thoughts, before he finds his voice. “All good, Eris. That’s how the off season goes, right?”

Eris is quiet for a moment. “I’ll send a car to take you to the airport. A nicer one than the team would send.”

With that, the line clicks, and Cassian tosses his phone away again, this time face down. He doesn’t even want to look at what’s being said, at the speculation. Sure, the Rangers hadn’t had the best season, the ending more heartbreak than anything else. Sure, he only has one year left on his contract. Sure, the front office wants draft picks to help build up the farm system with young blood.

But still, Cassian never expected this. Never expected this was how his time with the team would end. Never expected this was how his time in New York City would end.

Sighing softly, he glances around his apartment. The high ceilings, the modern, open kitchen, the tall windows and the amazing skyline view that the thirty-first floor offers. He really did love this place, a far cry from the streets he’d grown up on, and a reminder of how far he'd come from those very streets. He supposes he’ll have to sell it now. Is it worth keeping just for the off season?

The sound of Cassian’s phone ringing is loud in his otherwise quiet apartment. It seems to echo off the walls as though taunting him. He’s half tempted to ignore it all together, but despite the unknown number displayed on the screen when he checks, the location is listed as Seattle. Not the best first impression to send his new team to voicemail. Another sigh and Cassian squares his shoulders, sliding his thumb across the screen to answer.

The man on the other end of the line introduces himself and exchanges a few pleasantries, but then he’s diving right in to more specifics. The nitty gritty of a trade. Flight details. Financials and reimbursements. Rental car when he lands. Taxes.

Cassian only half listens, making sure he makes the affirmative sounds at the appropriate breaks in conversation. This isn’t his first rodeo. Although, he had still been in the farm system when his last trade happened. This is certainly different, but Cassian knows he thankfully won’t have to deal with most of this. He’ll give the director of team services Eris’s number, and let him deal with all the numbers and everything. It’s why he pays him the big bucks after all.

As soon as the call ends, Cassian’s phone lights up and starts ringing again. He wants to pull his own hair out as that incessant sound fills his apartment. He knows how this goes, but he’d give anything for just a moment of peace, a moment to really sit with his thoughts and everything that’s just happened. He considers turning his phone off, letting all the calls go to voicemail, at least for a few hours, but then he sees the name displayed on the screen.

“I take it you saw the news?” Cassian says by way of greeting.

“Need a drink?” Rhysand’s voice carries down the line.

Cassian chuckles, already pushing up to his feet. “You have no idea. But you better be breaking out the good shit from your fancy cellar.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get your ass over here.”

Just the short conversation, the teasing tone of his chosen brother, has Cassian feeling lighter already. He grabs his wallet and shoves it into his pocket, tugging a ball cap down over his curls. Summer still clings to the city despite the first day of fall barely a few days away, but the breeze that dances between the buildings promises cooler temperatures to come. Cassian takes the subway up toward Central Park, the rocking of the car over the tracks strangely a lulling balm over his nerves.

The doorman offers Cassian a nod and a friendly hello in greeting when he arrives at the building, holding the door open for him to stroll inside. The receptionist at the front desk does the same, barely casting Cassian a cursory glance as he heads for the elevators. He quickly punches in the code and steps inside, riding up and up and up, all the way to the penthouse.

Feyre is waiting for Cassian as soon as the elevator doors open, stepping forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian chuckles but he wraps his own arms around Feyre’s shoulders nonetheless. “I’m not dying, Fey. I just got traded.”

“I know, but traded across the country,” Feyre continues, pulling back enough that she can peer up at Cassian with an overdramatic pout. “I’m losing my partner in crime. Who will join me in bullying Rhys now?”

“You’re right,” Cassian tells her, nodding his head with faux solemness. “I’m so sorry you’ll be stuck on the east coast all alone with Rhys’s stupid face.”

“Stupid face? And here I broke out the good wine for your sorry ass.”

Cassian tosses his head back and laughs. He steps away from Feyre and walks over to Rhys, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “I expect nothing less.”

Rhys rolls his eyes, but he leads the way into the kitchen, three wine glasses and a bottle already arranged on the large kitchen island. He pours the wine into each glass, but Cassian grabs the bottle, examining the label with an appreciative hum.

“I don’t know why you’re making that sound,” Rhys comments dryly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Who cares about that?” Feyre cuts in, waving a dismissive hand at her fiancé and leaning against the kitchen island, her attention solely on Cassian. “Are you excited for Seattle?”

Cassian hums, swirling his wine around the glass. “They’re definitely building a good team out there. Strong top line. And I’ve heard good things about playing under Miller.”

“But…?”

“There’s no but, it’s just…” Cassian sighs softly, pulling his cap off to run his fingers through his hair. “It just sucks because everyone’s here, out east. You guys are always here or in Montreal. Mor’s here in New York. Even Az isn’t that far in Nashville. I won’t know anyone out west.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have the guys on the team. You know they’ll have all the best spots in town to recommend,” Rhys reminds him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“My sister lives out in Seattle!” Feyre jumps in to add, blue eyes bright.

Cassian frowns. “Doesn’t Elain live in Toronto with Lucien?”

“Not Elain. My other sister. Nesta. You’ve met her.”

Nesta.

Cassian is sure he’d remember if he met Nesta Archeron. He still remembers when Feyre had posted the photos from Elain’s wedding last month to her Instagram, the way his mouth had slackened at the sight of who he was sure was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. With the purple, silky fabric of the bridesmaid dress clinging perfectly to her every curve, golden brown strands of hair swept away from her face in an intricate updo, she was breathtaking.

But it was her expression in the photos that had really drawn Cassian in. There was something about it. Something about her. Something about the way that even though she was smiling in the photo, there was still a challenge, a dare, burning in her stormy blue eyes and the pinch of her brow. And Cassian had never backed down from a dare. He was sure one look from her had sent many men to their knees, sent them fleeing for the hills before she could cut them down where they stood, but Cassian? Cassian wanted to drive head first into that fire.

“I don’t think I’ve met her,” Cassian offers, but he doesn’t tell Feyre just how much he wishes he had.

“But she was at our engagement party in May,” Feyre continues, but when Cassian only shrugs in response, she merely sighs. “Whatever. The point is that she lives in Seattle. I can give you her number if you want. Then, you’ll at least know someone out there when you get there. And I’m sure she’d be more than happy to show you around.”

Cassian thinks about it. He thinks back to those photos on Feyre’s Instagram, thinks about the photos he had seen when he stalked Nesta’s own Instagram after he clicked the tagged account. Thinks of those stormy blue eyes and the tilt of her lips in a smirk behind the rim of a wine glass. Thinks of the stories Feyre has told him, of the stubborn and fierce older sister who all but eviscerated Feyre’s ex, Tamlin.

“Yeah… yeah, that’d be good. Just so I know someone out there.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, but she reaches down, fingers curling beneath cardboard. Her arms protest at the weight, but she hefts the box up, shuffling the few steps to add it to the organized chaos that’s their backroom. For a moment, her attention dances back toward her phone where she left it on another box, but she pointedly left it face down for a reason. She doesn’t need to look at the text messages waiting for her again.

Feyre 1:18pm Remember Cassian? Rhys’ brother that I told you all about? 😉 He’s coming to Seattle! I gave him your number. Show him around for me? Please?

Unknown number 4:43pm Hey, Nesta. This is Cassian. Feyre gave me your number. I’m moving out to Seattle soon. Maybe we can meet up?

“So, let me get this straight. The Cassian is moving to Seattle?”

Nesta snorts softly, peering toward where Gwyn is sprawled across the floor, iPad balanced against her knees. “We’re calling him the Cassian now?”

“I prefer to call him the douchey hockey player,” Emerie comments idly, placing the box in her own arms down. She swipes up the box cutter from the metal shelf to her left, making quick, efficient work of the tape keeping the box closed.

“And are you imagining douchey hockey player’s balls there?” Gwyn teases, looking meaningfully toward the box cutter in Emerie’s grip.

“So what if I am?” Emerie fires back, leaning forward to open Nesta’s box too. “He’d deserve it.”

“I never said he didn’t,” Gwyn laughs, turning her attention back to Nesta. “So, what are you going to do?”

Nesta sighs softly. “I don’t know. Feyre asked me to show him around the city.”

“Doesn’t he have teammates to do that?”

“Ignore him and the request,” Emerie suggests dryly.

Nesta snorts quietly but it quickly turns into a sigh, even as she keeps her hands busy pulling books out of her box. “I didn’t exactly tell Feyre what happened that night.”

She hadn’t told anyone about that night, save her two best friends. She still cringes sometimes when she thinks back to it, the embarrassment burning bright low in her gut, twisting and squeezing between her ribs uncomfortably. She’d sworn that night that she would never give a single thought about Cassian Valdarez ever again, and until today, she’d kept true to that.

She’d spent her remaining days in New York City solely with her sisters, even doing one of the touristy bus tours with Elain to see all the classic sights. And thankfully, Feyre had been more interested in excitedly talking about wedding plans and ideas than continuing her busybody meddling. If either of her sisters noticed anything different with Nesta, they didn’t say anything.

After Nesta had flown back home to Seattle, Emerie and Gwyn came over to her apartment. Drinking a bottle of wine between the three of them, it all had come spilling out of her. Her friends had allowed her to pace and rage, and then that was that. Nesta had washed her hands of the whole thing. Never again did she dare to check the sports news out of curiosity. Never again did she dare to stalk his Instagram. Never again did she think of the stupid face and the stupid smirk of a smile of that hockey player.

“What if you give him a tour of all the worst places in the city?” Emerie suggests, brown eyes practically lighting up at the idea. “Then, maybe he’ll want to leave the city.”

Gwyn’s laugh is bright, red hair tumbling down her back when she tosses her head back. “That is definitely not how sports teams operate.”

“Worth a shot,” Emerie mutters, tossing aside the box packaging in her hands and reaching back in for the books hiding beneath. “Holy shit. We got the new Sellyn Drake novel already?”

Emerie holds up the book in her hand excitedly, showing off the cover. Like so many romance novels these days, it features a faceless, cartoon style couple. The man is shirtless, though, rocking a kilt, while the woman is drawn with a yellow sundress. Looping script above the cartoon characters declares the title, The Scottish High Lord and Me.

“It’s official release date is…” Gwyn starts, squinting down at the iPad and scrolling through whatever is on the screen. “Tuesday, so we’ll want to put them out Monday night after we close.”

Gwyn reaches over toward the metal shelves, swiping up the sticky notes and sharpie sitting there. She scrawls out a note, a reminder of when they’ll need to stock the books, and peels the sticky note free. She slaps it right over the cover of the book in Emerie’s hands, but Emerie is quick to peel it right back off, placing it instead on one of the other copies still in the box.

“Hey!” Gwyn chastises, narrowing her eyes.

“What?” Emerie asks, her tone overly innocent. “This is my copy.”

“Gwyn just said the book doesn’t technically release until Tuesday,” Nesta points out, snorting softly.

“What’s the point of owning a bookstore if we don’t get to read all the best releases early? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be posting all the spoilers online or anything.”

“Good point,” Nesta agrees, reaching forward as well to grab another of the Sellyn Drake books.

“You both are terrible.”

“Oh, come on,” Emerie teases with a roll of her eyes. “You know you want to read it too.”

“Seriously, Gwyn,” Nesta adds, not even bothering to bite back her smirk as she points to the cover. “It’s a Scottish love interest.”

Gwyn huffs, seemingly determined to hold her ground with her crossed arms and narrowed gaze, but it barely lasts a few seconds. Not quite meeting either of her friends' eyes, the barest hint of a blush beginning to pool in her cheeks, she reaches forward into the box, plucking out another of the books.

Nesta and Emerie glance toward each other, sharing a knowing look, before they both burst out laughing. It feels good to laugh, to have that lightness twining around her limbs and swelling through her chest. It feels good to be squeezed back in this tiny stockroom with her best friends, her chosen sisters. She doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

They were there for her when she hit the lowest point of her life, when she well and truly felt like she hit rock bottom. They were right there beside her in the trenches, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to rage and scream at, a voice of reason and comfort. They didn’t flinch when Nesta snapped and released that swirling storm of emotion within her. They didn’t balk from her every scar, every dark crevice of her soul.

And when Nesta was ready, they helped pull her out.

“And what books are in your box?” Gwyn asks Nesta, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

Nesta shakes her head before peering into the box at her feet, pushing aside the packaging. “It looks like it’s our restock of that baseball romance that went viral.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Gwyn comments, tapping away at the iPad screen. “We should definitely put those out tonight so they’re ready for tomorrow.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta slumps back against the blankets and pillows of her bed with a soft sigh. She sinks back into the mattress, letting her arm fall over her eyes. There’s definitely a soreness lingering in her biceps from lifting all those boxes, but it was worth it.

When they finished inventory of the latest deliveries, the three of them had moved back into the main shop. Emerie had taken to restocking the shelves while Gwyn took to rearranging the table displays at the front. Nesta had taken to the registers. Math had always been a strong point for her, even when she was back in school, so it was always her job to balance their books. They all worked in perfect tandem until everything was good to go, finally closing up the shop and heading their separate ways back to their respective apartments.

Nesta allows herself another moment to simply lay in bed before hauling herself back up. She grabs the newest Sellyn Drake novel, resituating her pillows and settling back comfortably against them. Her fingers skate along the cover, down over the spine. There’s always been something about holding a fresh book in her hands. The crisp pages, the scent of parchment and ink.

Sliding her palm down the cover once more, Nesta turns to the first page, but her gaze dances away from the words and over to her nightstand. To her phone sitting there. She knows she shouldn’t, but her fingers itch with the urge all the same. With an annoyed huff, Nesta snatches up the device, navigating to her message app and the unread texts there.

Unknown number 7:12pm Did I type in the wrong number? This is Nesta, right?

Unknown number 7:37pm Feyre says this is the right number. Did she tell you I’m moving to the Seattle area? It would be really great if we could meet up!

Unknown number 9:21pm I guess you’re just really busy. My flight gets in Saturday morning, but the team is picking me up to show me around the practice facilities and locker rooms and introduce me to everyone. Maybe we could meet up in the afternoon? I’d be more than happy to buy you dinner ��

The last message has Nesta rolling her eyes hard. It’s exactly the sort of response she expects from someone like Cassian. All the arrogance and presumptuousness that comes from being a professional athlete. She half wonders how he even fits his ego inside the locker rooms.

Nesta tosses her phone aside and returns to her book. She hasn’t broken her promise yet, and she has no intention of breaking it now. Besides, who needs a hockey player when she has a fictional Scotsman, anyways?

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 17: Roommates

Infamous | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,815 Main Tags/Warnings: Porn actor!Dean, roommates, friends to lovers, secrets Summary: Dean is secretly in love with his best friend and roomate Castiel. But it's not the only secret he keeps. Dean is one of the most hot bisexual Pornstars in the industry. Dean knows Castiel never would find out his secret because the guy is the most puritan socially awkward man in the world, and he would never watch a porn movie. But Hannah, Castiel's girlfriend, decides to play him a joke and one night he surprises her boyfriend with a gay porn movie called 'Infamous'. Imagine Castiel's face when he sees Dean, the friend he knows for years, playing the main role with a magnificent performance.

The Winchester Breakfast Special | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 33,603 Main Tags/Warnings: Roommates AU, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Injured Dean, Flirting, Past Castiel/Hannah Summary: Watching Dean cook breakfast after a long night of steamy passion is something Castiel gets to witness on nearly every Sunday morning. The only problem is that the meal in question is never cooked for him. Because he’s never the one spending the night with Dean. He’s just the roommate. Which is something he’d like to change very much. But believing that his feelings will eventually run their course (and that Dean isn’t interested, anyway), Castiel plans to silently endure the smudge of awkwardness he’s left to experience in order to not complicate things. When Dean injures his shoulder and finds himself in need of Castiel’s help, however, Castiel realizes that it will be easier said than done.

The Housemate | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 96,428 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Real Estate Agent Castiel, Ghost Dean Winchester, Car Accidents, Haunted Houses, Roommates, Protective Dean Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Clairvoyance, Castiel can talk to ghosts, Possessed Dildo, Voyeurism, Eventual Smut, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Dildos, Mutual Pining, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Vengeful Dean Winchester Summary: The old Singer farmhouse has been listed with his father’s real estate company for the past 2 years, and Castiel could never fathom why the place never sold. That was until he was tasked with selling the place and quickly discovered that it wasn’t just dry rot haunting the halls. Whenever someone thinks of ghosts, they always draw the same image of a bygone era. Something that would resemble a ‘Lady in grey’ in a long flowing dress, wandering the halls of old forgotten manor houses. Never someone who looked strikingly similar to one’s age, and equally, never someone with such a high level of sass. Dean was vulgar, annoying, and an insatiable flirt. He would drive Castiel up the wall so much that he regularly thought about tossing a handful of salt into his face, just for a moment of peace and quiet from his ghostly shenanigans. But he was also charming, kind-hearted, and had a smile that could light up a room. Castiel had never intended to buy the old farmhouse, but he’s a firm believer in things happening for a reason. He just never imagined the reason would have bright emerald green eyes and an infectious laugh that made his handsome face look more alive than Castiel had ever felt.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Infodump of my duology wip:Charlie The Tomboy/Charlie's The Man

Picrew is 'Motherfucker Maker' and Charlie sketch by @nocturnal-notes !!

Charlie The Tomboy is a middle school ages targeted book starring Charlotte 'Charlie' Love and it's about his egg as a genderfluid and bigender transmasc cracking thanks to entering puberty at the age of 13.Ctt is a love letter to classic 2000s tropes of the children's media at the time and is set in 2000 to really sell it-Charlie is a tomboy because her mom died when she was little so she was raised by a single dad and has tons of brothers,two older ones and three younger ones with youngest being named Charles or 'Chuck' as everybody calls him.Charlie has three childhood best friends that all grew up in the same culdesac as her and they are Jamal 'Jake' Manson,a baby bat with tourettes and deadbeat parents,Olivia Batista,Charlie's foil in the sense she's a girly girl because she has a longsince dead dad and a bunch of sisters,and Ronald 'Ron' Robinson,the class clown with a fixation on comic strips.Charlie is a white dad black mom kid and a natural (dirty) blonde,Jake is afro-cuban monoracial,Olivia is afro-indonesian and Ron is half white,half ethiopian jewish.Jake is also Charlie's love interest,their ship name is 'Chake Mix' as in Charlie + Jake + Chex Mix and their friend group is called 'The Pro-Losers' as they created as reclamation against their bullies

The biggest bully in particular is Holly Fowler,a pick me in the original meaning of the word as she targets Charlie for being a black girl yet has a crush on Jake and tries to impress him with Olivia flying under her radar compared to Charlie due to her expressed lack of attraction to boys,although that dosen't stop her from taunting her over no boy ever having a crush on her to no offense or anger.Charlie The Tomboy is 100 chapters as it spans an entire year and has a downer ending as Mr Love dies so Charlie has to move from The Bronx,New York to Paris,France with his conservative uncle that abuses him due to his black generational trauma.The blow comes from how brightly Charlie's journey and not just in gender had been going up until then only to hear his dad die over the phone of a heart attack caused by the combo of old age and eating too much roasted food before going on a car ride.His uncle cut off all contact he could make with the other Pro-Losers so from then on for a long time,all he had was his brothers

Charlie's The Man takes place in Charlie's freshmen year of college and the tagline is 'Can four years really change us that much?' in a double meaning to The Pro-Losers individually and their relathionships to eachother.The awnser to both is no <33 They reconnect perfectly as Charlie tricks his uncle into letting him enroll in the same college as them without a word of the specific people he's hanging out with and even though they missed out on high school as the four amigos,nothin' stopped their love for eachother and the boundless fun they had together now that they were truly whole again.By this point,Jake's own egg we'd gotten hints to and implied confirmation in the last baby Chake Mix moment had cracked too so she's a genderfluid and bigender afrogothpunk transfem who'd been on estrogen for two years at the time to the eternal utter apathy of her parents and Olivia had fully embraced her lesbianism and girly geeky tendecies and presentation openly and proudly to excentuate her femmehood and not water herself down to basic straight girl femininity to 'not be a stereotype'.Ron actually realizes he's aroace in the story itself and unsurprisingly angst about it out of his insecurity over his 'lack of romantic appeal' but his friends and family get him to realize there's nothing wrong with him and so he embraces the label with pride and humor and joy.Meanwhile Charlie had been doing quiet rebellion the whole time he was in Paris to the point he participated in punk culture regularly behind his uncle's back and starts his physical transition as Jake gives him his first testosterone dosage less than 10 chapters in.Ctm is 100 chapters and another year long story so the duology feels complete

I created Charlie The Tomboy way back in elementary school when i was obsessed with being a tomboy myself in every way i could!!I wouldn't call Charlie a self-insert but he's definitely a piece of me when i was a kid and i've never forgotten them even if it's only this year i got around to patching everything together to do a while story!I hope you'll join me for the ride and love The Pro-Losers as much as i do♡

[atzfilm]

— the kraken; (m)

— kraken!yunho/f.reader, 25.5k

— fantasy, fluff, angst, smut

— finding a man in the middle of a snowstorm, you try your best to figure out how to get him back home.

— content warnings under cut

— a/n; rewrite of one of my old fics ♡ hope you enjoy ;;

content; fire, injuries, hospital, cussing, smut: watersports, tentacles

“Only three?” Jongho pouts, holding up the oranges in his hand. “But it’s buy four get one free, you don’t want to give a farmer some extra money?”

You snort, nodding as he quickly adds two more to your bag before you could protest. “You aren’t even a farmer, your grandparents are. And we’re not even close to any fruit fields. We’re next to a beach, Jong.”

Jongho and you have been friends ever since you stumbled into his shop one night after a high school breakup, tears running down your cheeks. Instead of the noble thing, he told you to make sure not to put your makeup on anything and passed you an old bread they didn’t sell during the day. At the time, you were pissed off at him for being so inconsiderate, but looking back at it now, he probably didn’t know how to respond to a random stranger walking into his parent’s, well now his, store. After seeing him in the halls and apologizing for that mess of a night you had, your relationship with him grew pretty quickly. By the time a month passed, you’re sure you knew everything about him. Insecurities and all.

Fate brought you into that shop that night, and you’ve never been more grateful for it.

He shrugs, showing you your total before you hand him the cash. “I’m just trying to run a business here, if a white lie gets me an extra dollar who really wins in the end?” he passes you your bag and you thank him, tucking it into your larger one. “Who cares if you’re my best friend and you know everything about me? You just found out about my grandparents ten years ago. People forget you know.”

You laugh, “Just ten years ago? God, I really should invest my money into other things. Like Walmart.”

He gasps, holding his hand over his chest in mock shock. “Walmart? You’d buy their pesticide-filled fruit over my luscious, moist plants? Is this who we are now?”

You stick your tongue at him. “Please don’t say moist. See you at the barn tonight. And don’t forget your pie, you know that Mingi would have a fit if you don’t bring it.”

You see the soft red on his cheeks darken, eyes flicking away from yours. “A-ah, right. Pie.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure that’s not the only thing he wants to eat tonight.” You quickly navigate out the shop, expertly dodging the old bread Jongho throws at you as you wave goodbye, closing the door lightly behind you.

You’ve lived in this town most of your life, moving into your grandparents' home after your parents' divorce. It’s not like they didn’t want you, they love you and still do. But sometimes, relationships are difficult to maintain. And for better or worse, you all agreed that spending time with your grandparents seemed like the best for everyone. For that, you’re thankful. You can't imagine yourself anywhere else.

You glance both ways before crossing the street, tucking a hand in your pocket. The sky looks a bit dark today, but you don’t recall seeing rain in the forecast. Maybe a sudden storm? The weather reports aren’t always accurate but from the look of those clouds, you can only guess it’s more than a light sprinkle. You tug your zipper up higher, unlocking your car door.

“Shit,” you shiver as you turn up the heat, placing your bag to the side and driving away.

Your mornings consist of you waking up, going to visit Jongho at his store, then going back home to organize some loose ends that they left behind before you went back to work. This week you’re off from your job, Mingi insisting that you need a break. You’ve worked at the bookstore-library combo for longer than you could remember, to the point where you’re now a co-owner, next to him. You couldn’t believe your eyes when Mingi handed you the paperwork to make you partial owner, tears springing to your eyes. He laughed at you but you could tell how much it affected him as well, explaining that he had dust in his eyes as he wiped tears. It was an easy choice at the time; Mingi has been your best friend longer than Jong has. Two peas in a pod.

Your phone rings, and you glance at the caller ID on the dash, before picking it up. Speak of the devil.

“Aren’t I supposed to be on vacation, sir?” You say, slowing down to a red. “Why are you calling me? I’m going to deduct this from my vacation.”

“Please shut up,” Mingi whines, and you only laugh. “I was just calling you to let you know that the forecast just called for a storm, so don’t go to the barn tonight.”

“What? But it’s the annual town fundraiser, how can I just not go? Everyone is going to be there!” You beep loudly at a car cutting into your lane, sighing loudly. “Idiots.” You murmur.

“Yea, I know. But we both know how you drive. I don’t want you to get into any accidents or worse. Just, stay off the road, okay?”

“Mingi, you don’t have to worry about me. You know that.”

“Yea,” his voice cracks, but you can’t tell if it’s the reception or him himself. “But I do anyway.”

Your relationship with Mingi is unique. You consider him a brother rather than just a best friend. He’s always been there. You honestly cannot think of a moment where he wasn’t always present; your middle school graduation, high school graduation, college graduation. When you were engaged at some point but broke it off just hours before the wedding. He’s your rock, and you are his. So you never blame him if he worries. You’d do the same if you were in his position.

“Fine. But I’m still going, rain or shine. I’ll take my bike instead, or walk. It’s only a few minutes away.”

“y/n…”

“Nothing you say is going to stop me from going. You might as well accept it. I’ll just call you when I leave the house, alright?” You pull into your driveway, glancing at his profile picture. It’s the day you graduated, faces squished against one another as you scream in happiness. “And don’t even try to offer to drive me there. You’re the host.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Fine. But please at least text me. I know you’re going to forget to call like you always do.”

You frown. “No need to point that out, asshole.”

“Haha. But seriously, stay safe. If you think it looks too risky out there just stay home. There are so many more events during the year you can come to. I’ll talk to you later!”

He hangs up before you can add another snide remark. You roll your eyes, grab your phone and bag and leave the car. You glance up at the home they left you. It’s an older style, the wood panels peeling off the sides, roof in stable condition. It’s enough to last for the remainder of the year, but you’re not too sure if it’s going to go beyond that. Of course, you’re forever grateful for them passing it down to you, but you can’t help but think about how much it’s going to cost to fix it all. Hopefully Seonghwa, your local contractor and good friend, could somehow give you a decent enough estimate in the appointment this week so that you could save and by the end of the year, Have enough to pass your budget in case there's any hiccups, he says.

You unlock the door, tossing your keys to the side and dropping your coat on the rack. You stretch, humming to yourself lightly as you go to the pantry, placing your oranges in the bowl. They’ve been preparing for the event for months, a yearly festival where they raise funds for the local library and other small shops that need it. It’s always successful, several thousands of dollars immediately allocated to where it needs to go. And despite Mingi being one of the recipients of the awards, he hasn’t hosted it until now.

You sit down, glancing over your documents as you sigh. He insisted that you’d take care of this tonight even though you suspect it’s because of the weather, to keep you home. You crack your knuckles, pulling up the information on your laptop and home computer.

Two can play at that game.

-

You lock your door behind you, grabbing the umbrella lying next to your mailbox. You can only imagine Jongho running up to your house in disgust at how you still haven’t gotten an umbrella holder after years of living here, but you digress. You’re cutting it a bit close to the time, but it’s enough to get there a few minutes late. Not to be too harsh, but there are mostly older people living in this town. Mingi, Jongho, and you are part of the very few younger people residing here.

You can recall your mayor constantly pointing you out whenever there are town halls, explaining how the “youth” would like change. Even with your blatant disgust at him wanting a large corporation to move into town, he still tried to use your face at the meeting to make it seem as if you were supporting the expansion. You could only scoff at him, shaking your head. If only they allowed citizens to make remarks without having to reserve the spot weeks before.

You open your umbrella above you, already hearing the pitter-patter of rain splattering across the concrete. You glance up at the sky, the clouds staring angrily down at you. Maybe you’ll make it before it actually begins to pour. Jongho promised that he’d take you home after so there’s no need to worry about that. You increase your pace anyway, the vision of a drowned rat circling in your head.

As you walk, you glance over at the ocean. An odd shadow sits on the creek, almost blending with the sand and dark ocean. It doesn't quite look like a body shape, maybe distorted by the distance and your subpar eyesight. You look once more before looking away, your nerves high. Your neighborhood hasn’t had any violent crimes for hundreds of years, but you wouldn’t like to be the first.

And so, the jogging begins.

-

“You’ve made it!” Seonghwa holds the door open for you and you thank him, placing your umbrella on the hook. Luckily, you’ve made it before the brunt of the storm unscathed, a few droplets barely hitting your shirt. “Wait, did you walk here?”

“How else would I get here Min?” You nudge him, glancing around the room. It’s busier than you thought, already half the town filling the barn. Glass jar lights hanging from the beams, something Seonghwa more than likely came up with. The lighting is dim enough to make it feel homey inside. You see Mingi running back and forth across the room, thanking people for coming and handling issues that pop up.

“How long has he been like that?” You ask Seonghwa. He gives you a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his head.

“For hours now. I don’t think he’s stopped moving since I came here.”

You sigh, quickly walking up to him and stopping him in the middle of another sprint. His eyes meet yours and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, you groaning against his shirt as he says something too quickly for you to understand. He pulls back, about to navigate around you before you stop him in his tracks.

“y/n…” He whines. “I have so many things to deal with, there’s no time for games.”

“You’re sweating in an air-conditioned room that’s freezing. And Seonghwa told me that you haven’t gotten a break this whole time. Mingi, relax. Everything is fine. You’re fine, and people are having a good time. There’s no reason to stress yourself over this, okay?”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Fine, fine. But, um, have you seen Jongho? It’s been an hour or so and he’s always early to these things?” He glances around you, a hint of a blush decorating his cheeks.

“No, I haven’t. Did you text him? He hasn’t answered any of mine…” You look at your phone, your message read, but never responded to. It’s unlike him to ever miss a message; the man is glued to his phone most of the day since businesses around here never truly get busy unless it’s a holiday. “Should I be worried? Maybe I’m worried–”

“y/n, relax. He’s fine, he’s probably up to no good like usual. I’m sure he’ll show up sooner or later,” Mingi squeezes your arm. “And I’m glad you made it here fine,” he frowns slightly. “Even though you didn’t listen to me.”

You roll your eyes, stepping to the side. “I’m a grown woman, Mingi. I can take care of myself. How about you go and track down the mayor? I’m sure he’s somewhere around here spewing some shit to make people vote for him again.”

He lets out a loud sigh, “Fuck him. You should run next time, we need young people more involved.”

“Absolutely not,” you push him in a random direction, him blowing you a kiss before he disappears into the crowd.

There’s a lot more people here than you expected, even the younger people of your community gathering inside. You’re not that shocked; Mingi’s charisma demands a crowd, even during high school. The man smiles and people swoon. With an event like this? He could probably gather the whole town without even trying. And as you push your way through, bumping and stepping over toes, saying hellos, you’re sure at least half the population is in this barn. But still, no sign of Jongho. You know Mingi told you not to worry, but you messaged him again, and no response.

you: are you okay? you’re not one to just disappear :( do you need help with anything

Again, read. Zero response. Either he left his phone open on your chat and is pissed, or… something has happened.

You step outside, away from the loud music, and dial his number. You quicken your steps to his store and home, your anxiety rising.

“Hey, it’s Jongho! If you’re listening to this, I’m either dead or exhausted. Leave a message after the be-”

You hang up, and dial his number again.

“Hey, it’s Jongho!…”

You turn the corner, bright orange and yellow flashing in your eyes. Your phone slips from your fingers, cracking on the pavement as you stare in shock. Flames rise to the sky of Jongho ’s home, bright against the dark night. Your legs pump underneath you, thoughts filled only with Jongho . The burning heat feels as if it melts your skin as you push through the doors.

"Jongho!"

Flames glide along the floor, burning everything in sight. You stick close to the floor, covering your mouth with your scarf as you glance around for any sign of Jongho . The glass scattered across the tiles dig into your skin, adrenaline masking the pain. Blood drips each time you slide, but you ignore it. Your eyes flick to an open door, and without much of a thought, you crawl through.

Jongho’s head is tilted to the side, body slump against his desk chair, head thrown back in an odd position and stained with blood. Your legs want to buckle underneath you at the sight, but you push through, reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulders, carefully placing him on the floor. He’s heavy, you struggle as you pull him through the flames. The heat burns your skin as you scream in pain, tears rolling down your cheeks, smoke slowly filling your lungs.

Your head is dizzy, fingers slipping as you fall back to the floor. You groan, glancing down at your ankle, seeing it turned in an odd position. Did this just happen? Were you walking with it this whole time? You gag, your body weakening as you struggle to grab him.

“Please,” Your tears are hot as they fall down your cheeks, eyes on him. This isn’t what you wanted. Jongho and you were supposed to be at the barn, celebrating Mingi’s first hosting as you all laughed at the strange citizens in your small town. But here you are staring at him, knowing that you don’t have the energy to pull you two the rest of the way.

“I’m sorry,” you can’t even say the words properly, coughing through your sentence, eyes fluttering as your throat burns. Before your eyes shut, you feel arms embrace your body. Wet, cold, different from the heat around you. But you don’t get a chance to see who it is, your head tilting forward as you pass out.

-

“y/n? Is she waking up?”

“It will take a moment, her lungs were filled with smoke. I’m surprised the patient even lasted that long with it. In ordinary circumstances…” The voice trails off.

“She isn’t ordinary.”

“Quiet down, your voice might disturb her.”

“Ah, sorry. I’m just worried.”

“I know, I know. Just be patient, she will wake soon.”

-

You blink slowly, a throbbing headache greeting you as you open your eyes. You take a long breath, your throat scratchy. Coughs overtake you as you lean forward, trying to figure out exactly where you are.

“y/n?! Nurse!” You feel arms hold you. You turn to the touch through your tears, the brown, wavy hair of your friend appearing between. He looks at you, eyes flicking between yours.

“I’m okay, Jong. I’m okay,” you clear your throat, the burn making you cough again. A nurse walks in before you can protest, checking your vital signs and handing you a bottle of water. You drink it slowly, the strange feeling slowly dwindling down to nothing.

“You’ll be fine,” the nurse says, smiling at you. “It’s pure luck that there wasn’t any damage to your lungs, this man over here too,” he tilts her chin to Jongho. “You lowered him to the ground and probably saved his life. A hero. Call me if you need anything. On the coms, please.” He holds up the button next to your bed, glancing at the monitor before disappearing from the room.

“Mingi and Seonghwa came, but they had to leave because their businesses needed to open,” Jongho explains, letting out a loud sigh. “You scared me, you know. Why the Hell would you enter a burning building? You could have died, y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to live with that.”

You frown, drinking more water before speaking again. “Are you kidding me? You could have died if I didn’t go in there! Was I just supposed to stare and wait for a firetruck to come? Is that what you want?”

“Yes! Yes, I wanted you to wait for the professionals to handle it. And now look at you,” he gestures to your arm, wrapped in bandages from your shoulder to the tips of your fingers. “You’re hurt because of me.”

“I don’t regret running in there and helping you. I’m sure you would do the same if it was me. I care about you Jong, I’m not the type to just stand by and watch someone like that happen. A thank you would be nice,” you murmur the last line, giving him a side glance.

He’s quiet for a moment. You feel the soft touch of his hand slowly curling with yours. You look at him, and you can see the concern lining his eyes as he watches you. He looks wrecked as well, right arm resting in a sling, left covered in gauze. Cuts scattered across his face. But it’s less than you thought, and for that you’re grateful.

“Thank you,” he mumbles softly. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I’m sorry for arguing with you, really. I just… I hate to see you hurt. I can’t even picture not seeing you for a day, let alone for the rest of my life. Just, thank you. And please be careful, you’re not a superhero. You’re y/n.”

You smile at him, leaning back into the bed. “You’re welcome.”

Your mind runs back to when you collapsed on the floor, a mysterious figure whispering something to you before you grew unconscious. It wasn’t a firefighter, that you could remember. Their clothes were dark, but you couldn’t make out their face. God, what did they say to you?

“Jong, was there anyone else at the scene? Did anyone tell you anything?”

“What do you mean?” he furrows his brows. “It was just us. Don’t you remember? You dragged the both of us outside. If we were still in there, we could have died. You saved us.”

“No, no I didn’t,” You try leaning up again, but Jongho pushes you back down.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jongho, I couldn’t make it to the entrance. The smoke was too much, I couldn’t breathe and fell to the floor. There’s no possible way I could have made it out.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “Then how did we get outside? They didn’t mention anyone else.”

“I…” Did you imagine it? No, you could remember those last moments clearly. It was smoky, but there was enough clarity to see someone in front of you, helping you. Did they leave after they brought you outside? Why would they do that, wouldn’t they make sure you were safe? “I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t do it. Someone else did, I’m sure of it.”

“Well,” he shrugs. “They didn’t see anyone else. I don’t know how someone would be able to, anyway. The fire spread so quickly, you would have been burned trying to get through it. But…” he grins, glancing at you.

“Guess you’re not my hero anymore.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding– hey, that’s my bad arm!”

-

The next few weeks are rough. Walking on your two feet is wobbly at first and holding things without it hitting your cuts is even worse, but you get through it. Eventually, they heal enough for you to go through daily tasks with less pain. Mingi takes it easy on you though, making you sit at the front desk and help customers that enter, sometimes picking up the phone when he isn’t lingering around to pull every single task away from you. You insist that you can handle walking around and fixing fixtures or putting books back, but he doesn’t sway from his decision. Mingi didn’t want you to come back to work this soon, pushing you to take a paid vacation. But you can’t imagine yourself shut in your home, staring at the wall, or watching television all day. Surrounded by books is something that you love, staying away is the last thing you want to do.

“Please give it a rest,” he whines, taking a book from your hand. “Your hands aren’t going to heal properly if you continue to break them open. Please.”

“It’s fine,” you try grabbing it again, but he only guides you into your chair, fingers lightly pressing into the bruises that still line your arms. You wince slightly and he panics, glancing over you.

“Oh my god I’m sorry–”

“I swear if you apologize for nudging me, I will resign.”

“I’m sorry. Now will you go home?”

“No.”

He rubs his face in frustration. “How have I ended up with the best and worst employee in my entire life? You know I could force you to go home since I am your boss.”

“We are co-owners, Mingi,” you stick your tongue at him. “And if I want to come in I can. Don’t be whiny.”

“I care about you, that’s all,” he frowns. “Be more careful, I’m serious. I’ll file a complaint on you and force you to go home if I have to.”

“With who?”

“Jongho.”

You gasp, turning around to him as he walks around you and places the book in the return cart. “Mingi–!”

“Yea, I’m using the big guns. You’re not scared of me, but Jongho would make you go home. You know he’s already wary about this anyway,” Mingi sits next to you. “I feel like I’m your parent.”

“You’re acting like one too,” you glance at the computer. “I’ll be more careful. Having these bandages on sucks, and they stink really bad at the end of the day.”

“You’re honestly the grossest person I’ve ever met.”

“At least I don’t track my crush's poops on an app,” you murmur.

“He asked me!”

“Ah, so you admit you and Jong have a thing?” You wiggle your eyebrows. He flicks your forehead, getting up from the seat. You reach out to kick the back of his legs, but he steps forward quick enough to evade your lunges. His laugh echoes around the store as he disappears into the back. You make a mental note to pay him back later, clicking on the search engine.

Search results for: how long does it take for someone to die from smoke inhalation

You click on the first website you see.

Smoke inhalation can kill a human in only a few minutes, as well as creating disorientation and obscuring vision. There is a possibility that the person may become unconscious, quickly leading to death. Long-term injuries…

You tap on your mouse lightly, rubbing your hand. Jongho and you would have died if you stayed on that floor for just a few moments more. How did this person even survive long enough to pull you two out? The possibility is close to zero.

“Who are you?” You say, staring at the screen.

-

You wave to Mingi as you walk inside your home, locking the door behind you. You kick your shoes to the side, throwing your bags on your couch. Your eyes flick to the kitchen, water running. Before you turn it off, an almost moist, slimy sound stops you. You look down. A foreign liquid coats your shoes, as well as the rest of the kitchen. It travels in a circle around the table that sits in the middle, before disappearing off into the back. Fingers curled around a knife you just grabbed from the holder, you walk slowly to the back, hands shaking.

This is a bad idea, you think. This is a terrible idea and here you are, being a dumbass and walking further into the back. You flick on the light, trailing along the line until you see it disappear out the back door. No, correction. The open, back door. Did something crawl into your kitchen, looking for food? And what kind of animal leaves behind this… viscous-like liquid? You look out your back door, seeing none of the liquid on the porch or in the grass. You shut the door, placing the knife on the side.

What got into your home?

-

“Eww, that looks sour, like funky,” Jongho’s nose scrunches up as you show him your floors through the video call. You hold the phone in one hand, mop in the other. “Maybe a colony of snails traveled through your kitchen, couldn’t find anything, and then disappeared into the abyss.”

“That sounds like the most unrealistic scenario of my life.”

“Unrealistic, yes. Impossible, no. I mean, you did leave your backdoor open. Did you expect to come home to a clean and tidy home?”

“I didn’t leave it open,” You glare at him through the screen, placing it on your stand as you scrubbed the floors. The smell is strong, but not unpleasant. You thank the universe that you don’t have to deal with a sour smell. “I looked around my house but I couldn’t find anything that would explain what it is. Seonghwa even came in and said he hasn’t seen anything like it. He works on old homes all the time, so I thought that maybe he’d have an explanation. But nope. Nada.”

“Maybe you haven’t taken a shower yet and you tracked your ooze around your home, nasty.”

“I honestly hate you.”

“Stinky.”

“Jong please,” you stick up your middle finger at him, his laughs echoing around your kitchen. “Maybe I should call a bug expert or something to check it out. What if it comes again and I can’t clean it out?”

“Are you talking about an entomologist or a pest control technician?”

You stare at the phone, deadpanned.

“Don’t give me that look! I’m trying to help you out, not the other way around. I can call my buddy I know who loves bugs, and he can check out the discharge for you.”

“…I really don’t like the way you worded that.”

“You’re really picky.”

“I’m hanging up. Oh, wait,” you throw some more cleaning solution on it, before turning to look at him. “How are you and Mingi? Progress? Did he massage your legs after the fire? How about your toes?”

You can see the burning of his cheeks even through the terrible camera quality. He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away. “Well, he’s helped me find a temporary place while they work on the shop. Seonghwa told me that it can be fixed in less than two months, which is a relief. Someone must have been watching because it started to storm even though it wasn’t on the forecast. It saved my shop.”

“Good,” you say, smiling at him. “Now to ask Mingi on a date, and everything will be sealed and ready to go!”

“y/n…” he groans, “You’re too nosy. How about you accept that invitation from Hongjoong and actually go on a date with him? He’s been asking about you every time he sees me. I feel like I’m the one rejecting him at this point.”

“He’s still lingering around?” You sigh, glancing down at the floor. It’s not like you don’t want to go on a date with him. You’ve just been so caught up with work and personal things that dating him would only be a crutch. And you wouldn’t want to treat anyone as if they’re not an option, so you thought it would be best to tell him that you’re too busy.

He’s handsome, he owns a small farm. He’s funny and kind, the timing is just… off. And he's a little strange too. You're not sure if it's just you, but he's an enigma. Something about him rubs you the wrong way.

“You know I can’t go out with him. But this isn’t about me, it’s about you–"

“You’ve been single ever since that weird kid you dated freshman year moved away.”

“Wooyoung? He wasn’t weird!”

“He put holes in his socks and wore them as fingerless gloves. Please tell me how that’s not the least bit strange.”

“I’m suddenly very busy! I’ll call you later!” You hang up before he could say bye, tossing your phone on the counter. It buzzes, and you glance at the notification.

rat: and he ate three bars of cheese at lunch

“Fuck you,” you mutter, grabbing another sponge and scrubbing.

-

You drag yourself into your home, not bothering to even lock the door behind you as you fall onto the couch. The injuries from the fire have faded into mostly scars, only a few barely bothering you. You still haven’t figured out who exactly helped you out of the fire, but you pushed the thoughts to the side, choosing to move on with your life. Speaking of life; it’s tourist season, and the town is filled with people who want to experience the “small-town” vibes. The mayor loves it; tourism means more revenue. You should love it too since it means more business to your bookstore and library combo.

But instead, all you do is frown at the new faces that enter your shop, Mingi having to nudge you so that you can plaster a fake smile on your lips and pretend that you care about their presence. The sales were fine before, enough to keep you afloat with extra just in case. Now they’ve gone through the roof, time during the week that you can take off because of how high it is. You’re thankful for that, Mingi spending time on his own too. But everything else…

The large crowds in the grocery stores, the constant noise at night, your early morning cafe runs ruined by the lines. Everything else only makes you more annoyed. You groan into your sofa, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. Only a few more months until the warm weather hits, and everyone leaves the town for a more traditional, beach-loving vacation. A part of you feels bad that the people on the prettier shores have to deal with it, but only a little.

Your phone rings, and you glance at the caller ID before answering it.

“Mingi, did I forget something?” You sigh into the phone.

“Please I don’t only contact you for problems, we’re still friends.”

“That depends on the day of the week,” you joke.

“Haha, you’re so funny. Hilarious, even. But no, I’m calling you because there are free drinks in the town square. I know you hate touristy events-”

“I do.”

“-but it’s free. No money, zero. And you never leave the house except for work, so this is me inviting you out to get out of your hole and meet new people. Please.”

You snort. “Added that please at the end because you knew I’d say no.”

“y/n.”

“Fine, fine,” you peel yourself off the couch, letting out a sigh. “At least let me change my clothes, I’ll be there in 30.”

“Thank you! See you there, and don’t forget your umbrella, it might snow.”

You hang up, plugging in your phone and quickly changing into someone warmer. The brief shower that you took makes the clothes feel cool against your skin. You shiver before grabbing the umbrella and stepping out. There are flurries, but not enough that makes you want to run back inside. Curse your friends and their desires to socialize. All you want to do is be a goblin and hide underneath your blankets as you watch a film.

You grab your keys, shutting the door behind you, and step out. You turn on your car, sitting in for a couple of minutes before putting it in gear and driving off. You don’t bother turning on the radio, the drive takes less than ten minutes anyway. And sometimes, you like the silence. Gives you room to think of random scenarios.

You slow down at a red light, glancing over at the river. You squint, seeing something strange in the distance. Is that… a man? Lying on the ground? You quickly turn into the parking lot without much of a thought, parking right next to the entrance. Not bothering to turn off the car you leap out, rushing down the path. The man is lying on his back in the snow, eyes closed. His clothes are a bit old-fashioned, probably something that you would have worn decades ago. But that doesn’t concern you right now.

“Oh my god, sir? Sir!” You shake him, feeling the cold temperature of his skin. His pulse is low but steady. “Can you hear me? Sir?” He doesn’t respond. You glance around for a sign of anyone, but the streets are empty. Probably due to the gathering in the city center. You wrap your arms underneath him, dragging him down the path. God, if someone accuses you of killing this man…

You make it to your passenger side, flinging the door open. It’s hard to get him into the seat; he isn’t exactly light, but you position him properly, putting on his seatbelt and quickly getting on the driver's side, turning up the heat to maximum. You touch his cheek, still ice cold. His eyelashes flutter, so you know he can feel your touch.

“I’m gonna get you out of here, bring you to the hospital.” You quickly make a U-Turn, going as fast as you can through the snow. It’s heavier now, sticking to the roads. At this rate, it’d take you over a half hour to get to the nearest hospital, and you don’t know if this man even has that much time. No, now’s not the time to have negative thoughts.

“No.”

You turn to the man, his eyes still shut closed.

“No? Can you hear me? No, what?”

“No.” He says again.

“I don’t know why you’re saying no, but I just found you on the side of the river. I’m going to bring you to the hospital–”

“No,” he says, eyes slowly opening. “No, no.”

“No hospital? Then where? My home?” You snort until you see him nod. “What? No, no fucking way am I bringing a dying man into my home. I don’t even know you. You have to go to the hospital, sir.”

“No, no,” his voice trembles, hands tugging on his seatbelt.

“Hey!” You reach over, stopping them in their tracks. “I’m sorry for touching you, but it’s bad out here and that means a higher chance of getting into an accident. I can’t let you take off your seatbelt, alright?” You stare at him, and he looks back.

His eyes are brown, but it looks as if the color is swirling as he stares at you. He lets go of the seatbelt, gaze focused on you. “No,” he says again. Maybe he can’t speak well? He hasn’t said anything other than no, so he must be limited.

“Okay. No hospital. Then…” Your home? You’re going to bring this man you know nothing about into your home? It’s a terrible idea, but there’s limited options left. Either you drive to the hospital and risk this man dying on the way from hypothermia, or you can help him at your home which is only a couple of minutes away. Your fingers curl into a fist as you glare out your windshield.

You might be making the biggest mistake of your life.

“We’re going to go to my home instead.” You look at him. His tense shoulders relax and he nods, hands completely letting go of the strap of the seatbelt. You let out a shaky breath, turning your car around and heading to your home instead.

The ride is quiet as you glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s shivering despite the heat from the vents, so you don’t dare turn it down, even if you’re sweating buckets. You have no idea how long he’s been unconscious sitting outside. From how cold his skin is, it could have been almost an hour. There aren't any signs of frostbite that you can see. Your fingers curl around the wheel, staring straight ahead. If he dies in your care… No, you can’t think about that. Everything will be fine.

Everything has to be fine.

-

You get out of the car, closing it and walking around the other side to open his door. He jumps at your approach, and you hold up your hands. “It’s okay, no need to be afraid. Can you walk?”

He stares at you silently, and you frown. Grabbing him while he was unconscious is completely different from doing it while he’s watching. You hesitate, glancing at his seatbelt. He tried to take it off before. Could he do it again? You point to the buckle, and he glances at it. His hand hovers, before he pulls on it.

“That’s not how you-”

The buckle rips out of the clasp, belt whipping back into the slot. You widen your eyes as he stands, paying little mind to your reaction. Did he just break the seatbelt with his bare hands? What the hell?

He wobbles, and you quickly reach out to him. He flinches.

“I’m just trying to help you, okay? You might have broken bones or something, that’s probably why you can’t walk straight. Okay?” You look up at him. He looks at you silently, and you take that as a yes, slowly helping him to your door. The treck is slow. It’s as if you’re teaching him how to walk, each step slightly more confident than the last.

You finally make it to the door, unlocking the door as you guide him inside. He rests on the couch with ease. His eyes flick around the room rapidly, chest rising and falling. He looks a bit anxious, fingers playing with one another.

“I’m going to close the door, alright?” You give him your back, locking your car with the button and closing the front door quickly. Stranger danger bells ring in your head. He hasn’t done anything to make you not trust him, but it could change at any moment. What if he suddenly starts speaking, and laughs methodically? Kidnaps you in your own home?

“Don’t be stupid,” you murmur lowly, turning back. Your eyes flick to the empty place on the sofa, blood growing cold. Shit.

Shit.

“Hello? Sir?” You ask warily, glancing around. You step slowly, looking into your kitchen. He sits at the table, fingers dragging along the countertops. If someone else were to do that in your home, you’d call them insane. But for some reason, it looks as if he’s doing it more out of curiosity than anything else. You step slowly, his eyes moving up to yours. You flick on the light and he squints, blinking quickly. In this light, you can finally see him.

His hair is a light brown, some strands darker than the rest. His skin is tanned, eyes identical to his hair. But what bothers you the most is the attire he’s wearing. It’s thin, the shirt hanging loose around his body, held together by old strings. His slacks are thin as well, and you’re sure he isn’t wearing anything underneath the fabric. But it looks old, not even something that exists at random stores in this century. It’s as if he just popped out of the 1800s on the docks.

“Do you know your name?” You ask. He blinks slowly, before staring back down at the countertops. You take slow steps to your stove, turning on the flame. The ticking makes him turn to you, but he doesn’t move from his spot. He still looks freezing, so you walk to your thermostat, turning up the heat to max.

Your phone rings. You take it out of your pocket, leaning against the counter as you answer it. “Hey.”

“Did you bail at the last minute?” Mingi’s voice is slightly disappointed.

Oh hell, you completely forgot about the square. The man stares at you as you speak into the phone. “I’m sorry Mingi. Some family things came up and I needed to take care of it instead. I forgot to contact you because I’ve been dealing with it.” You say slowly. The man tilts his head slightly, eyes scanning your face.

“Oh shit, is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?” You can hear rustling from his side, probably his jacket in the light wind. “I can make it in about a half hour if needed.”

“No, no. It’s fine, thank you though.” You can only imagine his face when he walks in and sees the man sitting at your kitchen counter. He’d probably collapse if he knew. “I’ll call you later, alright? I need to sort these things out for a while.”

“Okay okay,” his voice is sweet, something that you love about him. Unless he’s worried for your well being he doesn’t push or involve himself in things. “Please call me if you need me. You know I won’t hesitate.”

“I know Mingi.”

“I love you, y/n, talk to you later.”

“Love you too, bye,” you end the call, the man still staring at you. If only you knew his name…

Your eyes flick around his finger, seeing nothing that would ID him. You’re sure he doesn’t even have pockets on his outfit. And it’s strange. Despite being in the cold, wet snow, he’s not dripping wet. His clothing is completely dry, unlike yours. You take off your coat, resting it on a chair. You’re a bit afraid that if you leave him in the room alone, he’d disappear again. You take a ramen package off the table, placing the dry noodles into the boiling water. You add the seasoning to the water, before you sit in the chair across from him.

“Do you understand me?” You ask him again. Maybe there’s a few words that he can comprehend. Maybe it’s enough to figure out where he came from, and how you can bring him back. Somehow.

He nods slowly. You sigh in relief.

“Good. Do you know your name?”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head.

“Okay, okay. No names. Can you say things other than no?”

“Yes,” his voice rumbles as he stares at you. “Yes. No.”

Well, at least you can ask him those types of questions. “Okay. I don’t know what to call you. Uh…” You glance around the kitchen, until they land on your manhwa. There’s one character in there that reminds you of him…

“Can I call you Yunho?” You ask.

He’s silent, eyes flicking between yours. You think you’ve offended him, so you immediately backtrack. “Oh, I don’t need to call you that–”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” You raise your brows in shock. “Okay, Yunho. Nice to meet you.” You hold out your hand. He reaches out lightly, before running his middle and index finger down the side. You shiver slightly at the light touch, pulling away. “I’m y/n.”

He nods slowly. “Yes.”

“Do you know how old you are?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember how you ended up on the docks?”

He’s silent. He doesn’t say yes or no but stares at you, as if he’s willing you to understand through his eyes alone. You hear the stove sizzle, and you quickly stand up, turning down the flame. You grab two bowls, pour the ramen into it evenly, and grab chopsticks. You place the bowl in front of him, the other in front of you.

“Can you hold chopsticks?”

“No.”

You stand, walking around the table. “Look here,” you hold your fingers in front of you, demonstrating how to properly rest the sticks. He follows your instructions slowly, before he gets the hang of it. You show him out to pick up a noodle with your food, taking a bite.

He stares as you slurp it up, before staring down at his bowl, doing the same. He swallows it slowly, expression growing wide. “Yes,” he says, eyes looking at you. “Yes.”

You can only chuckle at his enthusiasm, watching as he quickly eats the noodles. Your smile slowly fades as you observe. He doesn’t even know his name. How could you bring him to where he’s supposed to be if he can’t articulate it to you? He can’t even hold a chopstick. Did he escape from somewhere? You grab your phone, looking up missing people in the area. None of them look like him, which makes it even more peculiar.

Just where did Yunho come from?

-

The night fades quickly, Yunho gulping down most of your ramen storage. You’ve settled on bringing him to the police tomorrow, knowing that they could handle this easier than you ever could. You gave him some old clothes one of your flings left at your home. He’s quite tall, the clothes tight against his figure. But it’s all that you have, and it’s enough for one night. You don’t plan on him staying longer than that.

He sits on the couch, eyes focused on the screen. They haven’t moved for hours, hands tucked underneath his thighs, legs crossed. You drink your coffee slowly, watching the screen along with him. You touched him with his permission before he sat on the couch. His skin is still ice cold, but he looks completely fine. He’s not even shivering anymore, mouth slightly agape as he narrows his eyes at the bright lights flicking across the scene.

He asked for water, well, he pointed to the water. And you haven’t stopped giving it to him. You’ve stood up every five minutes just to fill up his empty cup. You’ve never seen a human being this thirsty before, and it only concerns you more. Where did he come from? Is he dehydrated? Maybe the place that he came from refused to give him anything, that’s why he just endlessly asks for it. The more you look at this situation, the more dire it becomes.

“Have you ever watched TV before, Yunho?” You asked, and he glances at you from the corner of his eyes, before shaking his head. “Do you know where you’re from?”

This time, he moves his whole head away from the screen, looking at you. It would be terrifying if the loud action music wasn’t playing in the background. “Yes,” he says slowly as if he’s gauging your reaction.

“Would you be able to show me tomorrow?” Maybe then, you can bring him back. You appreciate his presence, you’re usually alone. But taking a random stranger into your home is bad enough. You can support two people with ease, but his name isn’t even Yunho. You just made it up on the spot. Someone must be looking for him. Anyone.

“Yes.” He turns back, and you sigh in relief. You stand up from the couch, telling him that you’re going to get his room prepared. You listen closely to the TV as you walk inside the room, glancing around. It’s a bit dusty, but it’s too late to clean. And you’re sure he wouldn’t mind anyway. He’s a man of few words.

Ha. Ha.

Words, few.

Hilarious.

“Yes!”

You throw the blankets on the bed, quickly walking back into the living room. Yunho is standing, pointing at the television. He looks at you, shaking his arm as he points at the television. You turn to see what he’s looking at and widen your eyes.

A sealife show is playing, octopi crawling along the seafloor. You cross your arms, looking back at him. “Hmm?”

“Yes, yes,” he takes more steps to the TV, pointing aggressively. You’re not sure what to make of it, the exasperated look growing on his face. You nod slowly.

“Yea, octopus. What about it?”

He rubs his face, grabbing a cup next to the table. He points at it, points at the show, and then presses his finger into his chest. He… likes octopi?

“I’m sorry Yunho, I have no idea what you’re saying. But I prepared your room for you, you can come in and I can show you around before I sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.” You feel bad, you really do. But the connection between him and the octopus isn’t really clicking. Maybe the place that he came from is called octopus? It’s a long shot, but that’s all you can think of right now.

He sighs, taking his bottles and following along after you. His steps don’t make a sound, but you can feel his presence behind you as you walk inside, pointing to the bed. Each room in the farmhouse has its own bathroom, so if he was thirsty in the dead of night he could just grab some water from the sink. He watches you in silence as you explain everything to him, following you around the large room. You finish, turning to him.

“I hope you sleep well, I’ll be right next door if you need me. The door will be closed but you can knock–” you hit your knuckles against a chest– “like that, and I’ll come and help you with anything. I hope you sleep okay.” You smile at him. He places his bottles on top of the side table in silence, before turning to you.

He looks as if he’s struggling, his mouth opening and closing. You wait patiently, still wary of his condition. He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment again, before opening them. They seem to glow as he keeps your gaze, blinking slowly. “Thank… you.”

Your lip twitches. “You’re welcome, Yunho.”

-

You wake up bright and early, stretching out your arms before you walk out of your room. From outside, you can see that the snow piled up pretty high, probably over two feet. Which means… You can’t leave to bring Yunho anywhere. Stuck. You feel your phone vibrate, and glance at the contact. Mingi messages you and says the library is closed for today, which is lucky for you. It’s not like you don’t trust Yunho, some may say you trust him a bit too much, but leaving him in your home while you go to work is just something that you didn’t plan on doing. You glance at his door, closed shut. Listening closely, bathwater is running, so you assume that he’s just cleaning himself up. You left spare clothing on his bed before you went to sleep, so hopefully, he uses that while you clean the dirty ones.

You hold the bag of his clothes tucked beneath your arm, opening the laundry door lightly as you start the machine. You pull out each garment, wrinkling your nose as you examine it. You cannot believe a human being in this time period wears clothes like this. Sure, it may be a trend that you haven’t heard of. But the garments are so thin, you can’t imagine that it would be comfortable to wear this day and age without people giving you looks, or a police officer stopping you in your tracks.

Your finger drags along the lining, seeing it clearly through the thin stitching. “How did you wear this out in the cold?” You wonder out loud, tossing it into the washer. You didn’t see a label on the clothing so you put it on delicate and for a short amount of time, starting it.

Yunho is still in his room, no, the room, so you start breakfast, turning on the television.

“Good morning! In today’s news, a strange storm has appeared on the coast. Weather forecasters across the country are baffled at this appearance. Nothing on the radars indicated any sense of a storm to form. And from the satellites, it seems to have formed yesterday night out of thin air…”

You glance at Yunho walking into the room, dripping wet. The clothes that he wears are drenched in water, splattering across your floors. You widen your eyes at his nonchalant attitude, his blank expression not the slightest bit affected by it.

“Yunho, you can’t just walk around wet!” You turn off the stove, placing the food in front of him. He blinks slowly, watching as you frantically walk around him to grab some towels. You ignore how the shirt and pants stick to his body, showing off some things that you’d rather look away from. What an interesting man, not the slightest bit embarrassed by his appearance.

“Here, sit on the towel so you don’t wet everything. Are you not cold?” You ask, sitting across from him at the table, fork in hand. He shakes his head, hesitantly poking the food on the plate. His eyes move to you. You eat slowly, raising your eyebrow.

He glances back down, before copying your actions. He chews slowly, before his eyes widen, shoving it down quickly. You snort at his actions, knowing that your parents would probably tap you on the side of your head for eating so fast. You both sit at the table silently, the news playing in the background. Your phone vibrates again, and you check it. This time, it’s a call from Jongho that you’ve just missed. You stand, telling Yunho that you’ll be right back before you disappear into your room.

He picks up on the first ring, eyes and nose filling the whole screen. You twist your face in disgust as he laughs, pulling back. “Good morning to you too!”

“What’s up Jong?” You ask, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Any news on the shop?”

“Yes, but no. The shop won’t be completed for a while, especially since there are random ass storms brewing from thin air. But I didn’t call you about me, I called about the mysterious man in your home.”

You cough, glancing out the door. You can see Yunho from here, turned around and staring at the television in silence. How the Hell did Jongho find out about him? It hasn’t even been a full day since he’s been here.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you smile at him. He only frowns in response.

“So now you’re hiding your hookups from me? Nice, y/n. Nice.”

“First off, this is my business. And second, he’s not a random hookup. He’s my cousin, and he’s just staying over for a bit. He was supposed to leave today, but the storm is preventing that from happening. So, yea. No hookups here.”

Jongho pouts into the camera, stirring his coffee. “That’s much more boring than I thought. There’s no juicy tea here.”

“How did you even find out about this? Do you have spies on me?”

“No!” He says quickly, holding up his hands in defense. “Someone saw him in your car when you were going home, and then it spread across town. You know, exciting things don’t stay a secret around here. I’m pretty sure even the mailman knows about him.”

One of several things you hate about small towns. Nosy people.

“You look upset, don’t be upset! I won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t want to.”

You sigh softly, glancing at Yunho again. Lying to Jongho is something that you never want to do, and you know he can keep a secret for you. At least, until Mingi comes cozying up to him and convincing him to spill the beans. You can’t blame him, their love for one another is open to everyone but them. Maybe one day you’ll see them confessing. But for now, they just tell each other everything and pretend that nothing is happening between the two of them. So if everyone in town knows about Yunho, if you tell Jongho about who he actually is, there’s only a matter of time before everyone knows that too.

Wait.

Maybe you do want them to know. What if someone could pinpoint where he came from, and bring him back? You would have peace again, and not have to worry… But still, Yunho is a person too. He should have his privacy. So, that settles it. You won’t utter a word to Jong about it.

“I’m not upset. I’m just, I really don’t want to go out there and shovel.”

Jongho laughs. “Oh? So the lazy gene is kicking in, isn’t it? Don’t worry about it, the forecast calls for bright, sunny skies tomorrow. It’ll probably melt on its own. But hey, did you hear the rumor going around?”

You adjust yourself in your bed. “What now? Seonghwa is hooking up with Hongjoong or something? Marge finally cleaned her drain pipes? The mayor got into a scandal and he’s finally out of office?” The last one, you can only hope for.

“That sounds way more exciting than what I’m about to tell you. No to everything you said,” he rolls his eyes at your disappointed expression. “Anyway, have you heard of the Kraken?”

Kraken?

“As in, the big octopus monster thing?” You say, and he nods quickly. “What about it?”

“Well, there’s an urban legend that says it rises every hundred years. And in fact, the day that my place burned down is the mark of when it was supposed to wake from its slumber. And with the strange events that have been happening, it looks as if he’s walking around our town.”

“What strange events, Jong?” His idea is ridiculous, but you can’t help but entertain it. Something other than Yunho to speak about is a good distraction.

“The fires across the coast, the strange weather changes. I mean, there was no record of a winter storm coming, y/n. Usually, they predict it at least a week before, but we were said to have sunny temps for the next two weeks! How did it suddenly start to snow?”

“So your conclusion is that the Kraken has risen.”

“…when you say it like that it sounds idiotic.”

“Well, I’m not one to believe in giant squid monsters.”

“y/n, I didn’t believe a person could be as clumsy as you, but here we are. Anything is possible these days,” He grins at your expression. “Well if it appears, don’t say I didn’t say so. In fact, I should be the first person you call up and say, ‘I’m sorry for not believing in you, Jongho . Forgive me for my lapse in judgment.’”

“That would never happen.” You look up again, the spot where Yunho once was, empty. Your heart drops. “I gotta go, I’ll talk to you about your weird theories later.”

“But-”

You hang up, throwing your phone on the bed as you quickly walk into the kitchen. Yunho sits on the couch in the living room. legs crossed as he stares at the screen. You sigh in relief, falling back into your chair. He barely glances up at your appearance. You look at the TV, seeing another broadcast of that sea life show you were watching last night. He likes it a lot, you think. There must be a connection there, but you just can’t pinpoint it.

“Yunho?”

He turns around to look at you.

“Do you want to help me shovel the snow?”

He raises his brows in curiosity. “Yes.”

You grin. “Great!”

-

You push the shovel through the thick layers, sweat already dripping down your face. You strain as you lift it, until a hand covers yours, stopping you. Yunho looks at you, shaking his head. “No.”

“Yunho, I have to pick it up–”

He pulls it from your grasp, lifting the snow with ease. He continues to follow the path you were going, not a bead of sweat forming on his head. He stands in the middle of the snow, a frown on his face as he holds the shovel in his hands, pushing it. You haven’t picked it up once, ever since he saw you struggling with lifting a pile.

“I can help.”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

He turns to you. “No.”

You roll your eyes, looking away. “Annoying ass,” you mutter.

“y/n!”

A familiar voice makes you freeze, gaze moving to see Hongjoong walking over to your home, a shovel in his hands. He smiles at you, glancing at Yunho. Fuck.

“Oh, I came over to help you move the snow. But it looks like you already have someone helping you, hm?” He holds out his hand to Yunho. “Nice to meet you, I’m Hongjoong. y/n’s friend.”

Yunho stares at the outstretched hand, not bothering to lift his. He doesn’t even touch it as he did to yours. Instead, giving Hongjoong his back and continued to shovel. Hongjoong clears his throat, rubbing his hand against his jacket as he turns back to you. God, is no one in this neighborhood secretive?

“Hey, Joong. Thanks for the offer, but I have all the help I need.” You gesture to Yunho.

He nods slowly, “Ah, that’s fine! No big deal! Ha, just wanted to stop by and say hello anyway. I heard this was your friend, right?” You know why he’s being a bit pushy, and you don’t blame him. You’ve rejected him plenty of times, but you haven’t exactly said no. It’s your fault, yes, but him showing up at your home is just another layer of absolutely not. No matter how small your town is.

“He is. I’ll see you later, alright? I have to finish this up and make some hot chocolate.” You’re being too nice.

“Oh, sure! I’ll see you around.” He glances at Yunho once more, before disappearing down the sidewalk. You watch as he disappears around the corner, before rubbing your face in exasperation.

A soft touch interrupts your annoyance, brushing against your cheek. You move your hands away, seeing Yunho stand in front of you, expression unreadable. He rubs your cheek softly, before pulling away. He tilts his head, eyes flicking between yours. For the first time, you see something other than confusion in his eyes.

Concern.

“Okay?” He asks, blinking slowly.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine, Yunho. It’s fine.”

He hesitates for a moment as if he can read through your lies. He nods, moving back. Your body yearns for his touch again, but you ignore the feeling. Watching as he gets back to shoveling. You rub your skin where he touched, swallowing.

Not good.

Not good, at all.

-

“Yunho?”

He looked up from the television, giving you his undivided attention. “Yes?” Simple responses like that made you happy.

“Today you’re going to show me where you came from, so you can go back home. I don’t want to take you away from your place, and we really don’t know each other well. You’ll feel more comfortable there.”

He narrowed his eyes at your words. But you don’t backtrack; some things need to be said. It’s not like you don’t love his company, seeing him sitting in the living room whenever you come back home makes you happy. But you feel like you’re taking advantage of a stranger. You don’t really know him, and he doesn’t know you. No matter how much it pained you… He didn’t belong by your side. He didn’t even have an ID.

“Want me go?” He asked. “Want me go away?”

“No, no! Of course not! I just, I know that you’d want to go away.”

He looked at you in silence. “No.”

“No?”

“You don’t know.”

-

Yunho sits in the car next to you as you drive to the spot he said he came from. The path is oddly familiar; the same trip that you took not too long ago to save him from the cold. As you’ve spent more time with him, he speaks more and more. Not as much as you’d like, but improvements are improvements. Perhaps the cold that day affected him in some way you can’t understand. But still, he struggles to express his feelings the way he wants. You feel bad. He stares at you in frustration before giving up, it took you a while to even get him out of your home to find out where he came from. . So here you are, continued silence. Yunho’s gaze out the window, left hand digging into his seat. You tried to start a conversation but it led nowhere. You’re glad that he likes to spend time with you, but some good things just don’t last.

You’ve accepted that fact long ago.

“Here?” You stop in front of the dock, the same place you found him not too long ago. He nods slowly, eyes looking past you and into the river. You unlock the car and both of you walk out. It’s still cold outside, so you’re tucked in your coat, following Yunho. You still haven’t gotten his real name out of him yet, but that’s another issue in itself.

He stops in front of the water, crouching down. You stand next to him as he reaches down, his fingers gracing over the water. He looks at you, and you widen your eyes at his expression. It’s filled with longing and concern, a glimpse of a smile dusting his lips. You haven’t noticed but from the upturn of his lips, you can see light creases indenting his skin.

“Here,” He points down, letting his hand glide along.

“But, it’s just water. How could you come from water?” You furrow your brows, staring out. Did he somehow get left behind from a boat? But you haven’t seen any new ones in years. Every boat on the dock belonged to someone from the city. Maybe that day affected his mind as well. “Yunho, what are you saying?”

“I came… I come from here.” He says methodically, pulling his hand out. “Here. Home.”

Alright.

“Oh, okay. Did you want to come back home?”

He’s silent for a moment, staring out. “Yes.”

“Can I bring you there?” You hope you’re not coming across as rude, but if he wants to go, it’s not your decision to make.

He blinks. “No.”

“No?”

“Time.”

Time. He probably needs more time to figure out how to get back. You crouch down next to him, eyes flicking out into the water. It’s funny; your town is surrounded by this river, most of it leading to the ocean. And yet, you can’t swim. Your parents always told you that it was a necessity, but why? You hated going into the water, and there was no reason for you to hop on a boat. Water and you just didn’t mix.

“Thank you.” He says softly, head resting on his hand, eyes on you. “For saving me.”

You can feel your face warm as he focuses on you. “You’re welcome, Yunho. But there’s no need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He nods slowly, eyes unmoving from yours. You’ve never met someone like him, so willing to share his true feelings, blurt out anything that’s on his mind. Even with his staring. As your face burns and you stumble across your words from nerves, he doesn’t look away. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head.

“You’re welcome to stay at my place as long as you need to, but you have to go home soon.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“We don’t really know each other. I mean, I don’t even know your name-”

“Yunho,” he points to himself. “Yunho.”

“But that’s what I call you. You have to have another name, you know? You look to be around the same age as me-”

He laughs.

“-so, there’s someone out there that knows it. I don’t want to take your identity from you.”

He nods slowly, reaching his hand out to brush a leaf from your cheek. You shiver at his touch. He’s naturally cold, you learned that after being with him for a while. It concerns you a bit, but there hasn’t been anything that has appeared. He’s healthy, he’s just terribly cold.

“Beautiful.”

“Hm?”

His smile widens as he watches you. “Beautiful,” he says softly.

“You’re beautiful.”

-

You chew your food slowly as you sit in front of Jongho , listening to him rant and rant about his “date” with Mingi (it was just a bump into each other at the market), and his store. He’s repeated the same things over and over. You can’t help but zone out, think back to Yunho sitting at home, a worried look on his face as you walked out the door and told him you’d be back soon. You left for work daily, but somehow, this expression seemed more bothered than the rest.

You sigh, not noticing Jongho examining you. “y/n? I’m used to you zoning out on me, but you looked worried. What’s up? Is it your cousin?”

“My cousin?” You raise your brow, before quickly nodding. “Uh, yea. He’s had a rough… time, without his family around. It’s taking a toll on him so I’m just worried, that’s all. It’ll be fine though,” you wave off his concerned gaze. “I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” he says, taking a sip of his orange juice. “It’s okay if you don’t want to elaborate, but I’m here for you in anything. At all. Just say the word.”

You have to tell him.

“Well…”

“Jong?” You both turn your heads at the sound of his nickname, seeing Hongjoong jogging up to the both of you. You rub your face in frustration, already annoyed. Jongho gives you a sympathetic look, before smiling at Hongjoong.

“Hey! What’s up!" They do their strange handshake before Hongjoong sits in the third seat. Next to you. Perfect. Amazing. Spectacular.

Just wonderful.

“Hey y/n,” he says, smiling at you. Maybe you’re a bit too harsh, or maybe you just aren’t in the greatest of moods. But even him sitting next to you only makes your irritation increase. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you and your cousin around for a bit.”

“Family things.”

“Ah…” he nods slowly. “He seems a bit reclusive. The last time I saw him he didn’t even shake my hand.” He laughs at the last part, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your frown deepens.

“Well, it’s about time we head out. Right, y/n?” Jongho sees your irritation immediately, quickly standing up. He’s friends with both of you and he hates to intervene, but you’re his best friend. “We’ll see you later, Hongjoong.”

“Oh, see you!” Hongjoong waves, watching as you both go. “Say hello to Yunho for me, yea?” He smiles at you.

You leave the cafe, Jongho pulling you along to his car. You shut the door behind you, throwing your head back and groaning. “Why won’t he just leave me alone? One day, I would like peace and quiet.”

“Ah, don’t be too hard on him. He just has a little crush on you, that’s all,” Jongho drives off, hand rubbing your arm in comfort. “You have to admire his persistence.”

“Persistence, more like harassment.”

“He’s a nice guy,” Jongho mumbles. “A little overbearing sometimes, but kind. I haven’t seen him do anything bad in his entire life.”

You turn to Jongho , narrowing your eyes. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one! I just think…” he taps his fingers on the wheel, thinking for a moment. “I know you mean the best, but sometimes, you’re a little mean. I mean, Hongjoong is just trying to befriend you, and you don’t even give him the chance to do that.”

Your eye twitches. “Jong. He came to my home uninvited to ‘just say hi’, fuck him,” You make air quotes with your fingers. “I don’t know about you, but that’s a turn-off for me. He’s too involved with someone he doesn’t know. And he hasn’t taken the hint that I don’t like him. I can’t force myself to be friends, or more, with someone I can’t stand.”

“He went to your home?” He widens his eyes in surprise. “Why did he tell me that you went to his house?”

You lean forward. “What?”

“Yea,” Jong glances at you from the corner of his eyes. “He told me that you went during the snowstorm to help him out. Fuck, y/n. If I knew he was lying I wouldn’t even have let him sit at the table. I’m so sorry.”

You thought of Hongjoong as harmless, never threatening to you at all. But hearing this news from your best friend, that he’s been lying through his teeth. .. For what? To make himself sound better? Try to insert himself into your life with ease? It makes your stomach roll with disgust. Kim Hongjoong. You can feel yourself fill with anger, nails digging into your palms.

“y/n, relax. I’ll talk to him-”

“No, I can handle it. I just, I can’t believe he lied about something like that to you? It makes me wonder what else he’s been telling you. He can eat bricks,” you mumble, staring out the window. “I can’t catch a break, can I?”

“I’m sorry, really,” Jong says softly. “I’ve been a shit friend, trying to push you two together. I don’t know what to do to make it up to you.”

“Jong…” You nudge his arm. “It’s not your fault, I wouldn’t blame you. At all. Just because he’s a conniving asshole doesn’t mean I put you in the same boat. He’ll learn his lesson.”

“That sounds a bit terrifying. Please don’t kill him. Or hurt him. Or anything illegal. I don’t want to spend a night trying to bail you out of jail.”

You roll your eyes. “No promises.”

-

“Okay?”

You’ve been silent for a while, glaring at your phone and waiting for Hongjoong to message you back. Unfortunately, you didn’t have his number and had to get it from Mingi. He already knew about the issue from Jong (who asked you first, of course), and gave it to you willingly. Well, not before giving you a speech about how you shouldn’t kill Hongjoong, but that’s beside the point. And now, you’re just waiting for him to confirm that you can go to his home. Confront him about his lies, and tell him to never speak to you again. Simple, easy.

You feel a light tap on your hand, and glance up. Yunho stares at you in concern. He’s grown quite responsive, showing his emotions with ease. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” You place your phone on the side, running your fingers through your hair. “There are too many assholes in this town, Yun. Promise me that you’d leave right when you find out where your home is.”

He smiles. “I won’t leave you.”

You feel the familiar tingling in your chest. No, not now. You’ll deal with that later.

He observes you, watching as your chest rises and falls with anger. The way your hands trembled, fingers picking at the skin loose against your nail bed. He reaches over slowly, letting his hand cover yours. He can hear the slowing down of your heartbeats, the normal breathing. You look at him, and he only nods slowly.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Your lip trembles. “Thank you, Yun.”

“No thank you,” he leans forward, and you panic. Is he going to kiss you? No, you barely know each other-

He presses his forehead lightly to yours, closing his eyes. He hums for a moment, before pulling back. “Okay?”

You can feel the anger that lingered in your body dwindling down to nothing, the wild bonfire only mere ashes. “How…?” You question, looking at him. He only shrugs, moving away from you.

“Magic,” he wiggles his fingers, and you laugh. He chuckles low. “You help me. I will do what I can to give back to you.”

-

You walk into Yunho’s room, knocking on the door. You haven’t seen him for a while, and you’re worried that something happened. Without an answer, you peek in, glancing around. His room is neat, not one thing out of order. It’s like he hasn’t even made it his own, which is good, at least. Even if it makes you feel a little strange. He’s been at your home for a while now, a little over three months.

You open the door wider. “Yun?” Silence. You walk in slowly, glancing at his dresser. A photo of you sits there, one you gave him when you left him to shop on his own. Just in case he somehow got lost. But that was over a month ago. It’s a little creased, as if he’s kept it in his pocket the whole time.

You walk to the bathroom door, knocking on it loudly. Still, silence.

“Yun, I’m coming in. I’ll cover my eyes if you’re naked,” You say loudly, before pushing the door open slowly. His head peeks out of the tub, but he’s not moving. You yank the door all the way open, running to his side.

You shake him, seeing that he’s still wearing his pajama shorts. He jumps at your touch, eyes flicking open. You hold his face in your hands, looking between his eyes. He blinks slowly, brown eyes wide. You slowly let go of his face, looking in the bath. His skin is cold, but that’s nothing new.

“Are you okay? Did you faint?”

“No,” he says slowly, staring at you. “I was resting.”

“In the tub? Yun, your fingers are going to be pruned-” You reach for his hand, furrowing your brows. Despite being in the water for this long, they’re completely smooth. You run your hand along his palm. You let go but he grabs your hand again, his fingers curling into yours.

“You scared me. I thought something happened to you,” You mumble, rubbing your face. He takes your other hand, holding both of them.

He smiles, eyes never leaving yours. “I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you. I take baths everyday because…” he trails off. “It makes me feel like I’m back home.”

Home. He rarely mentioned it, only when you brought him to the end of the river. You’ve waited for him to tell you where it is, but he always insisted that it was the water. There is nothing you can do to pinpoint exactly where, so you’ve accepted him as a temporary resident in your home. It’s funny; you’ve wanted to bring him home for so long. But right when he says it now, it makes you feel a bit sick. You’ve gotten too used to his presence in your home. Seeing him gone only makes you want to curl into a ball and cry.

It’s selfish.

“I can still take you home,” you struggle to say the words. “Just let me know, and I’ll take you anytime.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not possible. And I like being here with you.”

You smile. “I like you here too, Yunho.”

“Then I won’t leave for a while.” He shrugs. Compared to before, his communication skills have grown exponentially, now using anything and everything to tell you how he feels. He’s blunt and sometimes brutally honest, but you appreciate it.

Your phone vibrates. You pull your hands from his, a slight tug on his end.

Hongjoong: sorry, i’ve been out. let me know when we can meet. i wont be home for a few days, but anytime after that is okay!

He finally messaged back. After weeks of no communication, he finally says something. You quickly message him.

you: of course! let me know which day and i’ll be there

Hongjoong: friday?

It’s only Tuesday. Your plan of snooping in his home is finally coming true. It’s a bit immoral, but something about him bothers you to the core, and you want to figure out why.

you: sounds good to me! see you then

Hongjoong: :)

“y/n?” Yunho leans forward, only inches from your face. You can feel the instant pick up of your heart rate, moving back from him. An unreadable emotion flicks across his face and disappears. “Are you okay?”

“I have to go to the bookstore, I'll be back soon," You say, ignoring his gaze. If you meet his eyes, you know he'll see that you're lying. It seems as if he always knows once you look at him. So it's best to avoid his expression. For now. Until you can look at him without an ounce of guilt. It's not a horrible thing you're doing. Slightly questionable, partially illegal, but not horrible. What's the worst that could happen, trespassing on someone's property? And besides, only big crimes get attention in your town. A little snooping isn't going to hurt anyone.

"Okay," Yunho says simply.

You feel regret bubbling in your heart. Just tell him, you think. Everything will be fine, if you just tell him where you’re going. But then he smiles at you, the deep dimples you’ve admired for a while rarely appearing on his cheeks. So you decide to continue to hide it from him. It’ll be fine. Everything will be okay.

“Don’t wait up too long, okay? If I’m not back by midnight, you can just go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

He frowns. “I need to know you’re safe. I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay,” You stand, rubbing your knees. “I won’t bother you when you’re in the tub, but just make sure the water isn’t high and don’t sleep in it. You can drown, you know.”

He smiles, amused. “I won’t. I’ll see you later.”

You almost hesitate. Almost decided to stay home with him. Almost.

But not quite.

“See you!” You wave, walking out the room. You don’t see the flicker of worry etched in his skin. The clench of his hands on the edge of the tub. The determination as he gets out of the water, something strange trailing behind him.

-

You walk into his home slowly, your fingers clammy and your heartbeat throbbing in your ear. You can't hear much besides the creaking of the floors as you take steps. It's a bit eerie, you've never stepped into his home before. It looks almost abandoned. There's nothing on the shelves that would indicate that someone lives here. Photos not in sight, cupboards and cabinets empty. You didn’t hear anything about him moving (the town talks), so this only grows your suspicion. Has anyone ever visited him? You're sure he'd be the talk of the town with a home *this* vacant.

Your fingers glide along the shelves, skin caked with dust. It's as if no one even lives here.

"y/n?"

You turn around, seeing Hongjoong leaning against the pillar by the door. Usually, you'd be annoyed seeing him. But something feels off. Hongjoong usually wears all black clothing, a bucket hat covering his sightline. But standing in front of you, it's as if his style has changed. Large overcoat, fancy shoes, tighter jeans. Nothing like the man you see daily. It's subtle, but you know that he's blocking your nearest exit. You should have listened to Jongho. You should have stayed home, or waited until he came with you. And now no one knows where you are.

A stupid, idiotic move on your part.

He raises a brow, arms resting on his chest. "Care to tell me why I have the honor of your presence in my home?"

For a moment, you forget the dangerous situation you're in. For a moment, only anger fuels you as you stare at him. "You lied to Jongho, told him that I came to your home uninvited. What else have you lied about, Joong?"

He laughs low, shaking his head. "You have no idea."

"Excuse me?"

He moves off the pillar, taking slow steps toward you. You take a few back, and he notices, eyes flicking to your shoes. He holds his hands up in defense, shaking his head. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. If you thought that, you wouldn't have come here alone. We're just talking, that's it."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"Well, you came to my home without permission. Walked through the doors. Didn't even hesitate. I could call the police if I wanted and say you were trespassing on my property," he shrugs. "But we're friends."

He smirks. "Right?"

Something about him has changed. The innocent atmosphere around him is filled with confidence and cockiness instead. The grin on his face, it’s uncomfortable. As if he can see through you. He waits for you to say something patiently, eyes flicking between yours.

"Let me leave, we'll talk about this later."

He raises his brows, hands still in the air. "Later? Why not now? You're not afraid of me are you?" He laughs dryly, shaking his head. "Poor girl. You're shaking."

You can feel your fingers trembling as you watch him move closer. If the layout is similar to yours, you could run out the back door and call the police. A night in jail for trespassing is better than whatever is running through his mind right now.

"Hey–"

You quickly turn around and dash through his home, his laughter echoing around you as you frantically look for the exit.

"Oh baby, did you think I'd just let you in here without having a plan?" His voice booms. You reach the back door, your heart dropping. It's covered with boards, nailed shut. What the fuck is this man on?

You can hear his slow steps behind you, inching closer and closer. "You know I like the chase, right? Makes catching you so so much better."

You're running out of time, and he's only seconds away from getting to you. You quickly take the stairs, not caring that he could hear the stomps. Your eyes flick around, until you find an open door. You run inside and pull at the window. It's sealed shut.

"Fuck," you say between low sobs. You didn't want this, you didn't think it'd be this way. If only you listened, if only you told someone–

"There you are."

You turn, seeing Hongjoong standing in the doorway, hands tucked in his front pockets. He tilts his head as he scans your body.

"Such a shame. Maybe if things were different, we could have been together. Happy. But you had to involve yourself with that... creature," His lips curl into a snarl. "Disgusting."

"What the hell are you talking about? Just let me go, please." You'd say that this isn't him, but it so blatantly is. No wonder you felt off every time he was around you, like there was something wrong with him. Gut instincts are so rarely incorrect.

"Promise not to call the cops on me?" He pouts his lower lip, before laughing. "You're the only way I can get to that thing. It likes you." He reaches into his jacket. A needle slowly appears from the sleeves, and you gasp. You turn around, desperately trying to pry the window open.

"Please please please," You beg, but it doesn't move in the slightest. His hand wraps around your shoulder, and you raise your fist, trying to land it on his face.

He stops it with ease, hand covering yours. You raise your leg to hit his balls, but he just grabs your neck, holding you against the wall. His eyes swirl with craze and madness.

"You're demented," You gasp, clawing at his hand. He tightens his fingers, your brain becoming foggy as you glare at him. "Fuck...you."

He winks. "We'll do that later."

You feel the needle break your skin. You can feel the fogginess slowly spread across your mind, making you fall into a deep sleep. Your eyes flutter, his finger stroking your cheek slowly.

"Sleep tight, y/n."

-

You gasp, leaning up quickly. Tight rope holds your hands and ankles together, your head knocking against the side of...

You look around. The sounds of waves splashing echo in your ears, the fresh smell of salt water filling your nose. Are you on a ship? You tug on the restraints but to no avail. They only dig into your skin more, worsening the wounds. You scream against the duct tape covering your mouth, kicking and hitting against the wall. It seems like you're inside the captain's quarters. Blaming yourself for being stupid isn't going to help you right now, but you can't help but dwell on it. How the hell did Hongjoong even get you on a ship without others noticing? There aren't even any large ships around, only small boats in your town. Did he drive out with your unconscious body in the backseat, and throw you on as a stowaway? Or did he use a small boat and drive out to see on a larger one? So many possibilities run through your mind, but only one objective:

Getting out of here.

A loud creak interrupts your thinking, heavy stomps making their way to you. You turn to the sound, screaming at the man you see. Seonghwa stands there, staring down at you. He tsks, glancing at your restraints in mock pity.

"Poor girl. This is what happens when you involve yourself in matters that don't pertain to you. Should have left the thing on the side of the dock," he crouched down, slapping your cheeks a bit too hard. You curse, moving away from his touch.

Park Seonghwa, your Seonghwa? The Seonghwa that you lived with for years in the small town, the one that's helping you renovate your house. The one that always gave you shy smiles and winks, soft reassurances whenever you needed it. One of your good friends. Involved with Hongjoong, currently holding you captive. You stare at him in disappointment.

"Ah, don't look at me like that. I've been good to you all this time, y/n. I listened to you rant about anything and everything without complaints. I even helped you fix your home. We’re friends,“ he grins, tapping your cheek once more before standing up. ”And we should stay friends after all of this is over. Don’t let a little kidnapping change it, alright? Being bait isn’t easy, but I’m sure you’ll get through it. You’re a superstar.“

“Why are you trying to make her feel better?” Hongjoong walks in behind him, wearing the same dark clothing as either, a large overcoat covering him now. He looks down at you, a slightly disgusted look on his face. “I have no sympathy for people who help those creatures. They’ve been terrorizing our seas for hundreds of years, thousands even. And don’t listen to him, we’re not going to let you walk away from this. More than likely this sweet talker right here is gonna bury you under those waters.”

Loud waves hit the side of the ship, interrupting his rant. His eyes flash with excitement as he looks out the circle-shaped window, flicking his gaze to see something you have yet to figure out. “It’s coming soon. The waves are getting rough.”

“Ooh!” Seonghwa claps his hands, “Do we bring her out?”

“No,” Hongjoong murmurs, ignoring his pout. “There’s no reason for that. It could just take her and drag her away and we’d never see the thing again. She has to stay under here so it can scent her, and give us enough time to kill it for good.”

“Fine,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Don’t need to be so pissy, Hongjoong.”

“Fuck off.” He looks at you. “If there was any other way, I would save you and set you free. But if I do that, you’d only go to the police and tell them. So,” he leans forward, ripping the duct tape off your mouth.

You cry out in pain, and he only sighs in frustration.

“Today is your last day living, y/n. Might as well enjoy it. I gave you a first-class view of the deck, so you can watch that creature fight to save you, while we kill it.”

“I…What are you even talking about? What creature?” You pull on your ropes by accident, wincing in pain. “You two are talking to me as if I know what you’re referring to. I haven’t helped any creatures, you must be thinking of someone else-”

Seonghwa throws his head back, laughter echoing around the small room. “Oh, y/n. How naive can you be?” He taps your head lightly, before walking out. “It’s cute!” He shouts, disappearing out the door.

Hongjoong is silent, finger resting on his lower lip as he paces back and forth, looking at you once in a while. He stops in front of you, eyes flicking between yours. “I really do like you, y/n. Most of the crew wants to get rid of you after the job is done, but…” he bits his lip. “If you want, you can join us. Help us rid of other monstrosities that lurk on this Earth. With me?”

For a moment, he looks just like the old Hongjoong. Large, bright eyes, hope-filled. No sign of the man that just drugged you and threw you on a ship, threatening to end your life once the job ended. It scares you how quick he can flick the switch, show you this innocent side that is anything but true. But you have to get out of this. If lying would save your life for even a day longer, you can figure out a way to get out of here.

“Okay.”

His eyes brighten with glee. “Really?”

“Yea, yea. It will take me a while to get used to it, but yes. We can do that.”

He chuckles happily, his hang dragging down your cheek. You flinch at his touch, but he pays it no mind. Too stuck in his own ‘happiness’ to even give it a thought. “I’m really happy you chose to stay with me. Then we’ll get to know each other even more, and maybe… maybe something more.” His hand lingers on the curve of your chin before he pulls away.

“Just stay here until it’s over. I’ll convince everyone that you’re an asset and you can join the crew!” He grins, turning on his heel and walking out. He closes the door behind him, and you let out a shaky breath, turning back to the window.

You had no idea why or what creature you helped that made you get into this situation, but you no longer wanted to question it. Just get back home, tell Jongho and Mingi what happened, Yunho- Yunho. He’s probably panicking right now, the short trip you told him about ending up being goodness knows how long. You hope that he knows the neighborhood well enough to tell someone that you’re missing.

A wave hits the side of the ship, hard, causing you to hit your head against the metal. You groan, tears springing to your eyes. “Someone help me…” you whisper softly.

The crew outside are yelling rather loudly. You turn to look out the window, and your heart drops. Men are being dragged back and forth across the main deck, by large… tentacles? You blink rapidly, hoping that your eyes are deceiving you. But no. They’re huge, the appendages slowly wrapping around the length of the ship. The strong grip has it at a standstill, but it isn’t holding it tight enough to break it in half. What scares you the most, is that it could at any moment. Throwing you into the deep depths of the sea.

You have no idea how far away from shore you are. And you can’t even float, let alone swim. You’re a trapped mouse. You tug hard on the restraints, but it only digs deeper into your wrist, causing you to cry out. The door to the quarter’s swings open, Seonghwa walking in. He smiles at you, grabbing you by the ropes on your wrists, and drags you out the door.

“Your sweetheart is finally here for you, y/n,” he says, completely wet from the pouring rain. You scream as he pulls you through the ship, your feet scrapping on the hard, wooden floors. “Keep on screaming love, maybe he won’t tear my ship up.” He says it through clenched teeth, his grip on you tightening. “Fucking disgusting creatures. This is the shit I have to deal with. Should have died a long time ago.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Hongjoong had the opportunity and fucked it up. Shit.” He glances down at you, before throwing you down the stairs. Luckily it’s only a few steps, but it’s enough to bruise your body. You cry out in pain, your head throbbing, cuts and bruises covering your body. Seonghwa kicks you, laughing loudly.

But you can’t pay attention to him at the moment. The sheer pain echoing in the air is the only thing filling your ears. Screams surround you as the ship violently shakes, people thrown into the air. The salty smell of the ocean fills your nose as you rock back and forth on the deck, Seonghwa’s tight stance and foot on your rope the only thing keeping you steady.

“Hey, you piece of shit, looking for her?” You hear the loud yelling of Hongjoong in the distance, and you shake your head.

“No, no no no-”

Hongjoong makes it to your side, carefully lifting you up on your feet. Your eyes turn to the large creature in the ocean. The bulbous balls move their gaze to you, one of it’s tentacles merely feet away from throwing you overboard. The fish smell overwhelms your nose as Hongjoong holds you next to him, grinning at the creature in front of you. You can’t understand how he’s not running in terror, laughing as he tugs you around.

“She’s here, your y/n. Too bad she’s with me,” Hongjoong presses his face against yours, cheek to cheek. You try to pull away, and he clicks his teeth, throwing you to the ground. “Sorry love, gotta agitate him just a little. You don’t mind it, do you?” he pouts at you, sorrow filling his gaze.

This man is crazy.

The creature roars, the ship shaking violently. People in the distance are thrown overboard, your fingers holding onto a bar on the deck to keep you from flying as well. Seonghwa steps on your fingers, and you cry out in pain, letting go. He laughs. The sound of crashes waves fill your ears as the creature lifts one of its limbs, grabbing onto Seonghwa with ease. His eyes widen as he feels it curl around his torso.

“Fuck-!” Hongjoong tries to get to him, but it’s too late. He’s pulled off the ship, the large octopus slowly tilting back, opening its beak. It looks as if Seonghwa is passed out as he’s thrown into the air, and into the mouth of the creature. You scream in terror as he’s swallowed, turning to Hongjoong.

He stands there in shock, mouth in a straight line. “Two can play at that game…” he sneers, glancing back at you. Comfort no longer lines his gaze. Instead, there’s pure anger. He grabs your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the ship. You scream, begging him to stop, to let you go.

“Hongjoong, please-! Let me go!”

He grins, tilting his head. “Okay. See you!” He grabs your waist, and before you can hold onto something, you’re kicked off the side of the ship. You scream as air whips past you, the plunge into the water feeling like bricks hitting your back.

You can no longer scream, the deep depths of the waters pulling you deeper. You frantically try to move your limbs in a way to help you swim, but it’s no use. The fear of the ocean, of not being able to, overcomes you. You open your mouth to scream, water filling your mouth immediately. Your chest tightens at the lack of air, limbs slowing down. Your eyes flutter as you look up, the moon still shining above. Before you close your eyes, you see a large shadow blocking your view of the moon. Is it your hero, your savior? Your lips curve into a weak smile, before the darkness consumes you.

Almost there.

Just a little longer, hold on.

Please don’t die on me.

You gasp, fingers digging into sand as you look around. You try to lift yourself up, but your body cries out in pain, too much for you to even turn your neck slightly. You cry out, legs struggling to even move. You somehow made it to shore, your restraints off of you.

“Don’t move too much, you’ll hurt yourself.”

A head slowly appears in your vision, dripping water on your face. You flinch at the drops, and he apologizes quickly, moving away. “I’m sorry. I just need to touch your arm for a moment, to give you enough strength to stand. Just don’t move too much. Can you do that for me?” He asks.

You open your mouth to say yes, but the salty, bitter taste of water causes you to cough. Yunho panics, quickly crouching to your side. He touches your arm, moving away from your view. “You might lose consciousness again, okay? But you’ll be fine. I’m here for you, I’ll always be here for you no matter what.”

-

Your eyes flutter again. This time, the pain is minimal. Not enough to consume you, but enough to cause your body to ache. You lean up slowly, rubbing your face. You turn, seeing Yunho staring at you silently. “Are you okay?” He asks. He’s still dripping wet, strands sticking to his face as he watches you.

“How…” You cough again, and he moves closer, patting your back lightly. “How did you find me?”

He chuckles softly. “I can always find you, y/n. Let’s go back home, okay?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, lifting you with ease.

You let him guide you through the streets, oddly abandoned. You’re a bit slow, struggling to move one foot after the other. Yunho is silent, but it isn’t awkward. Comforting, his large arm holding you as you walk. You look up at him, seeing wounds covering his face.

“Are you okay? You look hurt, I have some things at home to help you.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Even when you’re like this, you still worry about things other than yourself.” he looks down at you. “I’m fine. I wasn’t the one drowning in the ocean.”

Your mind immediately goes back to before. The kidnapping, Hongjoong tying you up, that… thing, eating Seonghwa. You being thrown overboard. So many things happened in just a night, your stomach turning. You hold back the acid that slowly creeps in your throat, shaking your head. No, you’re fine. Yunho is fine. It had to be a hallucination. Seonghwa isn’t dead. Hongjoong isn’t a pirate. It was just a dream, a terrible dream.

A nightmare.

Yunho guides you up your steps, opening the door. He walks you into the kitchen, until his grip loosens. You look at him, but he’s already on the floor, convulsing. You reach down to help him, but he pushes you back, sweat gathering on his forehead. This is the first time he’s seething hot, your fingers almost burnt to the touch as you try to assist him.

“Yun!”

He groans, fingers clawing into the floor. Gurgling sounds emerge from him, a wet patch slowly appearing on his back. The fabric tears, strange things slowly emerging from his back. You widen your eyes, moving back. This isn’t Yunho. It can’t be, he isn’t this thing in front of you.

"What are you?" You stumble back from the man–, or creature, fear growing in your chest. He struggles to his feet, a strange limb slowly oozing from beneath the fabric of his pants. It slowly flops to the floor, a bit of it splattering on your cheeks.

Is that... no, that's not possible… It can’t be.

His eyes flick up to you, a slow smile unveiling sharp teeth shining in the dark at you. "Do not be afraid. I won't hurt you." He tries to stand but his legs fail and he falls back to the floor. “Help me.”

"Tell me, what are you?"

“y/n-”

“Answer my question!”

He's silent for a moment. “Some people call me the Kraken. But you call me Yunho.”

You freeze in your backing up, looking down at him. Beneath the fear, beneath the tangle of limbs in front of you, you look at his face. His eyes look into yours desperately, willing you to see him. To really, see him. Yunho. Your Yunho. You’re confused, scared, furious, and… disappointed.

“You’ve been lying to me,” you say, watching as he buckles under his weight, body on his side as he takes quick breaths. “Why have you been lying to me?”

“Water…” he gasps, fingers clawing at the floor. You push your fear away and quickly go to the kitchen, grabbing three gallons of water. You rush back, sitting them next to his body. He grabs the gallon with a tentacle, squeezing it. The plastic bursts with ease, and you watch as he pours it over his body.

The wounds on his tentacles and skin slowly merge before your eyes. He uses the other two gallons up quickly, turning back to you. “Water…”

“My bathroom. Go to my bathroom!” You say. He tries to pick himself up from the floor, but he stumbles back down. You weigh the options in your head, before leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders.

You tug him along the floor, a moist trail left behind as you take him into your bathroom. With the last break of energy left, you throw him into the tub, turning on the faucet. He pushes himself underneath the flow, letting the tub fill up just enough to touch the edges, before closing the tab.

You try not to stare, but you can’t help it. He has about six tentacles coming out of his body. Dark green and oozing something you’d rather not dwell on too much. Some spill out of the tub, inches from you. You move away slightly, sitting on the floor. Your head throbs as you stare at him.

Too many thoughts occupy your mind. The man you saved being a mythical creature. Seonghwa and Hongjoong kidnapping you to take the Kraken as a prize. The creature you saw, destroying the ship, the same man that sits in front of you right now, eyes shut. Hongjoong being thrown into the ocean before your eyes, Seonghwa being swallowed.

You touch your cheeks. Hot tears trail down your cheeks, along with blood. Your head throbs as you stare at your stained fingers, rubbing it slowly. Exhaustion hits you immediately. Before you can move from your spot, you fall unconscious, head hitting the floor underneath you.

“y/n!”

-

You gasp, leaning forward. A massive headache and pulsing vision makes you groan out loud, rubbing your face. You glance around, seeing that you’re still in your bathroom.

“You’re awake.”

You jump, turning toward the voice. Yunho still sits in the tub, memories from last night flooding back. He sees the slow panic growing in your features, and holds up his hands.

“Hey, hey. Just take a breath, please. I can explain it if you don’t fall unconscious.”

“Fuck you, Yunho!” You try to stand but fail. "All I’ve done in the past 24 hours is pass out.”

“Be careful-”

“You have no right to tell me what to do or what not to do. You lied to me all this time, took advantage of my kindness, you…” You point at him, feeling tears trail down your cheeks. “You hurt me, Yunho. You really hurt me.”

His face crumbles underneath your sad gaze. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d be here so long. I, this is my fault. I would have left if I knew this would happen. That I promise.”

“I can’t believe that promise, Yun.” You say, looking away. “I can’t.”

“I know. But please, just listen to me for a moment. I can explain it.”

You look down at his extra limbs, tentacles curling and uncurling. You nod slowly. “Go ahead.”

A look of relief passes over his face. He turns to you, some water splashing to the tiles. But it doesn’t phase you, your mind filled with too much trauma to even think about water on the floor.

“As I’ve told you yesterday, I am the Kraken. Humans considered me a mythical creature, only found in folklore or stories passed down. But I am real, and alive. I have existed since the creation of this Earth. But not as the form that I am right now. Because I wouldn’t blend in like Mother wanted me to. So as the years passed, my appearance changed. But only temporarily.” He thinks for a moment.

“I have always existed as the Kraken. Humans have had encounters with me, but I haven’t killed as much as they say. I only defended myself when I was attacked, or when pirates sought out to kill me for a higher reputation, or other strange human rituals. I wanted to live a peaceful life. But that was impossible because of the sheer size of my true form. And the strange condition that was put on me.

“I appeared every 100 years. One year out of the 100, I appeared, and the ninety-nine, it is like I am frozen in time. And each moment I wake, I am in a different place. Environment. I know little of the language around me, but I can understand enough.” He looks at you. “That’s why I was unable to communicate properly with you for a while. Because I physically could not.

“I shouldn’t have hidden it from you this long. But for the first time in my millions of years on this planet, I had something that I didn’t want to lose. I had you, and you cared about me. You dropped many of your priorities to take care of a being you didn’t know, without complaints. That is something that is rare in nature. I should have told you, and I tried to in the beginning. But once I realized how much I cared for you, I couldn’t.”

He looks down at himself. “My form is something that humans are not used to. There are no half creatures, half humans in your world that you know of. If I walked around like this I would immediately be trapped or killed. I should have known that your friend was a pirate, I just didn’t put two and two together.”

“Hongjoong and Seonghwa? That’s what they are, that’s why they wanted to kidnap me?”

Yunho nods. “They are from an old line of pirates, dated back several centuries. Those humans pinpointed when I would rise and across the world, they would look for me so they could claim to be the one to kill me. It is strange, I cannot see why they would want that fame,” he rubs his forehead. “I put you in danger. I didn’t see the symbol on them, so I didn’t think much of it. They must have evolved and hidden the symbol somewhere. I am deeply sorry for the pain and sorrow that I have caused you. I was being selfish, and still am for staying in your presence.”

You watch as his tentacles slither across the tiles, slowly sinking into his skin. His eyes flutter, until they’re completely out of sight. His hand brushes the top of the water, in deep thought.

“I won’t keep you here for long. I must leave now that they know where I am. Hongjoong may come back, and I cannot risk your life. You don’t need to worry about that.” He smiles at you. “I know it’s difficult to wrap your head around this-”

“You have no idea, Yunho. No idea,” you rub your face slowly. “I don’t… I know this isn’t your fault, and I’m not blaming you at all. I made the mistake of even going into Hongjoong’s house. But I was kidnapped because of you, and they almost killed me.” Your fingers shake at the thought. “They threw me overboard. If you weren’t there, I would have drowned. That’s not something that I can just forgive easily, you know? I care about you, I do. And I’m sorry for you. But you’ve lived centuries, and maybe I’m a little selfish in thinking this, but… I have less than one hundred years on this planet. It was almost taken away from me that quickly.”

“I can only imagine how you feel.”

“Yea, imagine. And that makes it worse,” you look at him. “It’s funny, I don’t even care about you being the Kraken. I think I’m just more hurt about you hiding it from me. Thank you for explaining yourself, but… I think you need to leave now.”

He nods slowly. “I understand.” He slowly stands from the tub, and you get up from your spot. You step out of the room to give him some privacy, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the island.

You can feel your heart telling you to let him stay, but most of you is saying otherwise. He’s a danger, and staying here when there are pirates chasing him… That could only lead to a bad path. What if Hongjoong comes back? What if Mingi or Jongho are in your home and end up in the crossfire? You care about Yunho, you do. That’s why you think that it’s best for him to leave. Even if your heart yearns for him. Some things are just bad ideas.

Maybe you should have ignored him on the dock that day.

Yunho clearing his throat interrupts your thoughts. He stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight as he glances everywhere but your eyes. “Before I leave, I want to help you heal.”

“You don’t have to do that-”

“Yes, yes. I do.” His eyes plead with you.

“…okay.”

He drops his belongings on the marble, barely a foot away from you. He leans forward, slowly pressing his forehead to yours. A flow of calamity flows over you, the cold temperature of his skin slowly overcoming you. You look down at your injuries, seeing a strange blue glow cover them. You blink, and there is only your unblemished skin left, nothing more. Yunho pulls back, taking your arm and examining it closely.

“You’re back to yourself again,” he says softly, thumb rubbing your skin with barely a touch. Enough to feel the pressure and make you tremble slightly. He lets go, backing away from you.

“I know this might be selfish of me to say,” he looks at you, eyes flicking between yours. “But I’m very happy that you’ve decided that I’m not welcomed here.”

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

There’s slight hesitancy in his gaze as he watches you, lips pursed. He closes his eyes tightly, glancing away for a moment. You think he isn’t going to answer it, until he opens his mouth. “Because I don’t know if I’d be able to leave you when the time comes. Because for the first time in my life, I have something that I cannot imagine gone from my sight. And I know that if I stayed for even an hour more, I wouldn’t be able to leave as easily.”

No, he can’t do this. He can’t say those things, not when he’s put you in so much danger. Not when you were at the brink of death because of him. Even if he saved you, even if he promised that he’d protect you, even if… even if…

You feel the same way as him.

He turns away from you, opening the door, and slowly closing it behind him.

-

You made a mistake.

His presence is around your home. The two bowls you put out accidentally. The indent in the couch where he used to sit daily, watching his sea life shows. The piled up snow on your lawn, slowly melting away. The storms, gone. His clothing was left on top of his bed in a messy pile. You laughed at it when you walked in, knowing that he couldn't fold clothes. Even the bathroom that he used. Every part of this house he touched.

You made the biggest mistake of your life. And there's no turning back on it. You have to accept that he's not coming back, and ignore the pounding of your heart each time you drive by the docks, each time you look at a boat. It will fade. The feelings will fade one day, and you'll move on. It's strange; you barely knew him and it feels like you've lost the love of your life. How can it feel that way? Why does your heart betray you like this?

You place your coat on the rack next to the door, Jongho and Mingi following close behind. You told Jong about Yunho, Hongjoong and Seonghwa. At first he thought you were joking, but then eventually believed every word you said. And after comforting you, even clowning you for saying he was a fool for believing in the Kraken. You only rolled your eyes at the time. Jongho has a heart of gold, he knows how to cheer you up with ease. Mingi was harder to convince. A man of seeing and then believing, it took you weeks for him to finally crack.

"No one would be this sad about a cousin leaving," is what he said to you. "I can tell your heart is broken, and love sometimes does that to you."

You rub your face, flicking on the television screen. You insisted on being alone, but the two gathered around you whenever they could to cheer you up. And even with your annoyance, you're glad. You would be spending your time crying into your pillow, reliving that day over and over. Who could've guessed that Yunho dug himself so deep in your heart that you'd never be the same.

Mingi sits next to Jong, their arms brushing. They haven't told you about their relationship recently, probably due to your current state, but you can tell something has changed. The looks that they give one another, the brushing of fingertips as they talked, the shy glances. And you couldn't be happier, you just want them to tell you when they're comfortable enough.

"I told you two I'm fine, I was just going to make some potatoes and watch something. That's it. I'm not wallowing in my emotions anymore. I'm okay."

"Well we just wanted to keep you company, as all," Mingi says, grabbing your chip bag and chewing rather loudly. "That shouldn't bother you too much. Best friend hangout time."

Jongho rolls his eyes. "How old are you again?"

"Don't be an asshole," Mingi sticks out his tongue. "Anyway, we can tell how you feel, y/n. No need to sugarcoat it, it hasn't even been that long."

You sigh. "Yea... yea I know. I'll be fine though. You don't need to worry about me."

"We're best friends, y/n. Who would we be if we didn't worry?" Jongho says simply, biting the chip that Mingi offered to him. "Plus, we can bond too. You haven't let us inside your house in forever."

"Because you two are nosy," You grumble, sitting across from them. "And I'm out of potatoes."

"We can go get some together!" Mingi stands up, folding the chip back. "Shopping trip!"

"You two can go, I'll just wait here. I'm not really in the mood to go anywhere right now." And maybe cry a little. That always worked for you.

"y/n..." Jong says softly, eyes flicking between yours. He must have seen the pleading look you give him, grabbing Mingi's arm and pulling him to the door. "Fine, but you better not start any shows without us. I'll curse your whole family line."

"That's overdramatic, but okay," You smile at him. He wiggles his brows, ignoring the protests Mingi gives him, shutting the door behind the two.

You plop your head on your hands, taking slow breaths. This shouldn't be a big deal. He's probably fine, as you are. Maybe you did do a little research about strange weather happening around the world. And maybe, just maybe, you tracked him being in Northern Egypt. The strange storms are unlike the usual weather they have.

"What's wrong with me?" You murmur, shaking your head. "You barely know him, what the hell are you thinking?"

Knock.

You freeze. You slowly lift your head, glancing out the front window. Jongho 's car is gone, so it couldn't be them. No, you're just making things up. Nothing is happening. Nothing's wrong.

Knock.

You stand quickly, rushing over to the knife holder. You wrap your finger around the handle. A solid object stops you in your tracks, digging into the middle of your back.

"Turn around, slowly. And let go of those pretty little knives."

You drop your hand, slowly facing your intruder. Hongjoong holds a gun to your chest, index finger resting on the trigger. His eyes are wicked, scars from the incident a few weeks ago riddled on his face. His lips slowly curve into a smirk, head cocked to the side.

"Did you miss me?"

"He's not here–"

The gun is pushed harder into your chest, stopping you from talking. You can feel the intense fear rolling over you as you hold up your hands in surrender, your breaths shaky. Hongjoong laughs, head tilted back, hands unmoving.

"Oh baby, look at what we have here. Little y/n, all alone. The octopus shit not here to save her. Friends gone. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? Hm?"

You're too terrified to give a response, and thankfully, he doesn't ask for one.

"Weeks, y/n. I tracked that fuck down across the world, but he disappeared once we made it to Northern Ireland. Nothing. Not a trace," he shakes his head, letting go of the gun with one hand to push loose strands from his face. "God, all of that time wasted. Seonghwa would be disappointed in me."

He slowly looks back at you. "I believed in you. I believed that you would come to me after I killed it, and be with me. You promised me on the ship you would be with me. But you're not. Did you even look for me, care about me?"

He takes a step closer, a sneer on his lips. "Or were you thinking of that disgusting thing? Were those tears for that thing?" His eyes widened. "No, it was for me. It was all for me, I can tell. You pushed it away. You didn't love it like you love me, right?"

He moves the gun away, light sobs falling from your lips as he lets the weapon run down your cheeks.

"It's okay, I'm here now. You don't have to worry about me anymore. One I kill it, we can be together. We can be okay. Shh, don't cry," he wipes your tears, ignoring your flinching. "It's okay. I'm sorry for pushing you into the water, but you're okay. You're fine. I knew you’d be okay, you’re a survivor-"

A bang makes Hongjoong grab you by the neck, gun pointed to your head as he holds you against his chest. Your fingers are tight against his arm, trying to pull him off.

"Did he come for you?" Hongjoong hisses in your ear. "Is that all I had to do? Mess with his little girlfriend?"

A loud crash echoes through your home. You try to catch your breaths, hiccups consuming you. All you could think about is wanting to live, not wanting to end up this way, wishing you went to the marker instead of being alone. A large shadow slowly enters the room. Your eyes strain to look around the corner to see who it is. You almost buckle at the sight.

Yunho stands there, but he looks different. The color of his skin is almost translucent, slowly pulsating, changing whenever he moves slightly. His skin is dripping wet, hair cut down to almost a buzzcut. Markings cover his skin, almost as if he's covered in purple tattoos. Tentacles emerge from his sides and back, slowly slithering around the floor. His pupils are slits. He looks more like a creature than a human. And even with that fact, your heartbeat quickens in his presence.

He's here.

Yunho stares at Hongjoong, before his eyes move to you. They seem to soften immediately, flicking over your body for any signs of injuries, before moving back to your captor.

"Let her go."

"Let her go? Let her go? Who the fuck do you think you are? I have her, I have a gun to her head. I can kill her before you'd blink, and you think I'll just let her go? Not today, you fuck."

He pushes it deeper into your temple. You can feel it digging into your skin, blood slowly trickling down the side of your face. You groan in pain, still tugging on his arm. You can't risk doing anything without him killing you. All you could do is be helpless, hoping that he can save you from the monster that has you in his arms.

Yunho takes slow steps into the room, eyes on Hongjoong. "What do you want?"

"Your head on a platter. Finish the job like I was supposed to do a while ago, instead of going on this crazy goose chase."

Yunho sits on your stool, raising a brow. "Is that so? And what will you do then, after I'm dead? Do you get a little certification that says you killed the Kraken? The whole world except a few measly pirates wouldn't believe a word you say. You would be considered a mad man, too involved in his fantasies to see reality," Yunho's finger runs down the edge of your counter. "Is that what you want?"

"I…" Hongjoong curses, tapping the gun on your temple. Yun watches the movements, narrowing his eyes. "I just want Seonghwa back. Give me back to him, and I'll give up on you. Tell the others that you are resting for another 100 years."

"Lying to me will only hurt you in the end."

"I'm serious, Yunho. I'm one hundred fucking percent serious. Just… give me Seonghwa back. I'll leave you alone. Both of you." Hongjoong glances down at you. “I just want him back.”

Yunho tilts his head as he stares at him. “That isn’t possible.”

Hongjoong’s grip loosens slightly, enough for you to lift your leg, kicking him in the shin and stumbling to Yun. Yunho quickly hides you behind his back. Hongjoong is on his knees, gun still held in his hand as he stares at the floor. His hand trembles as he pushes loose locks away from his face, lost in thought.

“You’re a fucking monster from millions of years ago, and you’re telling me that you can’t bring him back? You can’t bring one human back from death? What’s your purpose if you can’t do a simple thing like that? You’re the one who attacked the ship, you’re the one who killed all of those people, and you can’t change it?” He stands up, slowly raising his gun. “Give. Him. Back.”

It seems as if he’s unafraid of the weapon. He narrows his eyes at him, shaking his head. “I am a giant octopus, why would I have the strength to bring back a human from death? But either way, Seonghwa isn’t dead.”

What? What? You saw as Kraken-Yun swallowed him, how could he survive that? You look up at Yun, but he’s still watching Hongjoong carefully.

“After I saved y/n from your attempted murder, I regurgitated him. He is alive on an island not fair from here. I believe it’s called Hawaii.”

“Hawaii? In the middle of the ocean?” Hongjoong widens his eyes. “Are you shitting me right now? You put him there, out of all places?”

“He is fine and not injured. I thought you would be grateful that I didn’t digest him. I am not fond of the taste of humans,” Yunho shrugs. “I have told you pirates that I am not a killer, that I only defend myself from attacks and the humans that I care about.” He glances at you. “Humans do the same, but they also do senseless acts. I am just defending myself and my territory.”

Yunho gestures to the gun in Hongjoong’s hand, currently pointed at him. “A lot of pirates I’ve met are immediately violent without thinking things through, irrational. Even now, I have told you where your Seonghwa is and you still are threatening her life.”

“You are a creature, an abomination. And you must be eradicated. It’s what I’ve been taught since I was young. Nothing that you say is going to change that!” Before Yunho utters another word, he fires the weapon. Two, three, several shots echo around you and you scream, clutching onto Yunho’s arm desperately. He pushes you away from the firing with ease, throwing you back into a wall.

“Shit!” he curses, leaping to Hongjoong. His tentacles immediately wrap around Hongjoong’s torso, slamming him to the ground. Hongjoong groans as Yunho towers over him, glaring down. “Stand down.”

“Fuck, you,” he hisses as a tentacle slowly wraps around his neck. He gasps, clawing at the limb. “Not surprised you’re killing me. That’s what you do, isn’t it.”

A strange emotion flicks across his face. He slowly lets go of Hongjoong’s neck. He takes the opportunity to grab the gun next to him, neck flicking to the side and aiming it at you. He fires. You don’t have enough time to react.

Time moves in slow motion. Hongjoong smiles in a sadistic glee as the bullet pierces through your stomach. The gasp that falls from your mouth as you look down, seeing the slow spread of blood staining your shirt. The front door opens, Jongho and Mingi walking in. Yunho grabs Hongjoong’s neck as life fades from his eyes. The smile on his lips burned into your skull as you slid down, fingers touching the hole in your skin.

“y/n!” You’re not sure who is calling you, but that’s the least of your worries. You look at Yunho, yelling. Telling him no, that he can’t kill him. It seems to hit his ears, because he lets go of Hongjoong. Mingi gasps at Yunho, Jongho running around him and going to you.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay. This isn’t a big deal, it’s just a small wound, nothing more-”

Yunho quickly comes to your side. You’re not sure when the tentacles disappeared, but your head is throbbing. Mingi moves from the door, closing it and locking it. The three surround you as your vision moves in and out.

“It’s just one bullet.”

“There’s three in here, Jong. We have to take her to the hospital. Can’t you see the one in her chest? Oh my god.”

“I can take care of her. Get me water, now!”

Footsteps echo away as you blink slowly. Death is such a fickle thing. You never really thought about it much. It’s the end, it’s a simple thing. You honestly believed you’d live to be at least 80, but you didn’t even make it halfway there. Here you are, riddled with bullets, choking on your own blood as you stare at whoever is in front of you.

Yunho. Yes, it’s Yunho. And Jongho. Oh, he looks so scared. You try to tell him that it’s okay, but you only choke more. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he holds you, a splatter of water covering your vision for a moment.

“You won’t die on me. That I swear.”

Who’s voice is that? All you seem to do is pass out. It’s quite tiring. Maybe this time you just don’t open your eyes again. It will be fine, everything will be fine.

“Tie him up, we’ll deal with the police once y/n is okay.”

The voices are blending together now. You can’t tell who’s holding you. But the pain, the searing pain that fills your body is unbearable. You scream and choke, body convulsing as you try to stop the pain yourself. Hands hold you down against the floor. Your hands grab for anything, something to help you take out some of the pain. Fingers wrap around your hand, and you squeeze tightly, silently begging. You don’t want to die. Not now, not like this.

Hands push down on your chest, hard. You scream, this time it is echoing around the room. You grab the wrists of whoever is pushing down on you, eyes fluttering open. Yunho’s eyes are on yours, worry in his gaze. He smiles when he sees you looking at him.

“You’re okay. Breathe.”

You gasp, touching your chest quickly. Jongho ’s fingers are curled with yours, Mingi next to him. All of them are staring at you with worry, Yunho’s hands shaking as he removes his hands from your chest. He holds up three bullets, tsking.

“He fired all of them and they hit your chest and stomach. I was able to take all of them out and cover your wounds, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Mingi glances at him nervously. Jongho blinks slowly, shaking his head before turning to you. “I think we should call the police. If we let Hongjoong go, he’ll just continue to try and attack you, or attempt to kill him. It’ll be an endless cycle of horror, and you’ll live your life on edge everyday. Seonghwa is too far away to find you for now, so he’s not someone to worry about.”

Jongho rubs his face. “I really didn’t think he’d turn out like this. Lied to all of us, tried to kill you…” His voice wavers as he looks down at you. “You almost died, y/n. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Mingi rubs his back as tears trail down his cheeks.

“Maybe we send him off to a livable island,” Yunho murmurs. “I know human police are quite fickle, and it would be unwise to try to explain everything when he might tell information about me.” He looks down at you. “There has been attempts in the past to capture me by several countries. I am not too sure if this one is different.”

“I don’t want to risk you,” you say, your hand reaching for his. He lets you curl your fingers around his, looking at you in concern. “I can’t lose you again. Not now.”

“Then what?” Mingi turns to an unconscious Hongjoong, tied up. “How are you going to take him out of here?”

“Ah… you bring me to the ocean with him, and I’ll take it from there. But we have to make sure he is not conscious so he will survive the trip,” he notices your grip tightening. “I won’t be gone for long.”

“Will you come back?” You ask, eyes flicking between his. “I’m sorry for what I did, I…” You cough, Mingi rubbing your back. Yunho leans forward, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. Your lids flutter as your skin touches, the cold temperature calming the rapid thumping of your heart.

“I won’t let you go again. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pulls back, a small smile on his lips. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He stands up slowly. There’s resistance in his grip as he lets go of your hand, glancing back at Hongjoong. He purses his lips, glancing at Mingi and Jongho. “Are either of you willing to take me?”

“Not necessarily-” Jongho m starts, earning a hard shove from Mingi. “-but I have no other choice.” He smiles at you, following Yunho. He picks up Hongjoong with ease, throwing him on his shoulders as Jong judges him silently, guiding him out the door. It’s quiet for a few moments, until Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.

“God, I can’t believe I just met the Kraken, and you’re in love with him.”

You widen your eyes. “No-”

“I know my best friend, y/n. And I know that he feels the same way. Kind of felt like a third wheel when he was speaking to you,” he says, cheeks flushing red. “Next time warn me before you two get all mushy.”

“Mingi-!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, I really am. I don’t know what would have happened if he wasn’t here. I just…” he sighs, glancing down at your body. “I’m happy that you have someone in your life that cares so much about you. Now I don’t have to worry anymore. You know, I would have probably cursed at you if I found out about you being in contact with him. But seeing how much he cares about you, how much he risks himself to help you, I couldn’t ask for a better person to care about you.”

“Thank you Mingi, really.” You say softly.

“You’re welcome. Now…” he grins. “Does he have a tentacle dick?”

“Mingi-!”

-

You hear a soft knocking on your door. You leap from your seat, stumbling over pairs of shoes in your way as you swing the door open. Yunho stands there, hands tucked in a new pair of pants, nervously shifting back and forth. His brown eyes immediately meet yours, the smile that you’ve missed for so long spreading on his face.

“Hi,” he breathes. He smells like the ocean and taffy, skin tanned from the sun.

“Hi,” you say back, giddy. Before he says anything else, you immediately pull him into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands slowly move from his pocket and wrap around your torso, squeezing you tightly against him. You can feel the fast beating of his heart pressed against your chest, in tandem with yours. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens even more.

“I missed you so much,” he says softly. Tears begin to fall on your shoulders. You move your head to look at him in the eyes, hands on either side of his face. His eyes are moist, eyelids blinking rapidly as he tries to control his emotions.

“Yun…?”

He guides you inside, shutting the door with a kick. He lets go of your body reluctantly, but keeps your hands attached. He crumbles, knees hitting the floor, gaze glossed over. His hands cover his face, soft sobs rake through his body. You crouch down with him, confused. His arms curl around your body without hesitation, tucking his face into your chest.

"I don't want to hurt anymore, I don't want to do this to humans. I just want to live." He says over and over, "How can I stop this? How?"

“What happened?”

“From before. I was so willing to kill him without hesitation. The only reason I stopped was because of you, because you told me that I should spare his life. All of my time living, I have tried my hardest not to hurt a human soul because I know how short their lifespan is. But at that moment, I didn’t even care. I didn’t even think twice. Maybe I’m the monster that he says I am.”

“Yunho, you are not a monster.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not. You are one of the kindest people I know. Hongjoong’s life has been filled with people telling him what you are and what you’ve done. That’s why he calls you that, because that’s all he has ever known. But you spared him. You helped him live, you didn’t let him go to prison. You saved him.” You let your fingers run through his hair. “That’s heroic to me, the opposite of a monster.”

“I'll be here for you. Every step of the way. I won't give up on you. I promise that.

His shaking is lessened now, more stable than before. His gaze meets yours, eyes flicking all over your face. As if he's willing himself to memorize it. His hands glide along the side of your body, before resting on either side of your face. His fingers strokes your cheek, an unreadable emotion in his gaze.

"Why do you care so much for me, y/n? I have offered you only worries and trouble. But you have stayed. Why?"

How do you tell a several thousand year old creature that you're in love with him? How do you utter those words to a man that probably has never even experienced something close to love?

"I care about you, Yunho–"

He shakes his head. "That's not what you want to say. Tell me, y/n. Why do you care so much? Why–"

"Fuck, Yunho! I'm in love with you, okay?" You pull his hands off your face, standing up. He remains in his spot, watching as you walk back and forth. "And I know I shouldn't be, but I am. I'm in love with a... octopus hybrid, half man half creature, and I can't stop myself. I care about you too much, you're on my mind constantly. I mean, even when I'm checking someone out at the library all I think about is if you'll like this book. I'm just... I don't know what to do. Because you can't stay here forever. You exist in our world every 100 years, and then you go away again. I can't be in love with you, but I am."

"You are?" He asks, saying those two words slowly. "You're in love with me?" You don't see the smile creeping on his face, the steady steps toward you.

"Yes, I am. I can't believe I'm confessing to you right now. The worst possible timing ever," You snort, rubbing your face in exasperation.

“I love you.”

You stop in your steps, looking back at him. “What?”

“I didn’t know what human love was. I always questioned it, always thought that it was a frivolous human emotion that just made your relationships grow or procreate. But it is so much more than that. I don’t know when I realized it, but I have loved you for a while. It might have been when you took care of me without knowing my name, or when you sat next to me on the dock. I just… I know that I love you.”

Yunho stands closer to you, his hands entangling with yours. “I love you, y/n.”

Your heartbeat quickens as you stare up at him. Fear, Love, Care, Confusion, Anxiety, love, love love love…

You pull his face down, barely centimeters away from your lips. You both breathe slowly, eyes staring into one another’s. Before you could ask, Yunho takes the leap. He presses his lips against yours, small gasps falling from them as he kisses you. And kisses you, kisses you, kisses you…

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and he presses his forehead into yours, lips trembling against yours. All you can hear is your breaths, until you giggle, shaking your head.

“Did I just kiss an octopus?”

“Did I just kiss a human?” He raises a brow.

“Touche,” you mumble back. He laughs, shaking his head.

-

“So, you two are a thing now?” Jongho says through big bites, glancing at Yunho out of the corner of his eye. “You’re dating a cephalopod? Isn’t that illegal somehow?”

“He’s… well,” you glance at Yun. “I mean, yea. Not sure if it’s illegal if he’s half human too.”

“Well, not exactly half human,” he squeezes your arm, eating his ramen. “More like full octopus, sometimes transform into a human for convenience. So Jongho is correct in that sense.”

“You’re making this weirder than it already is,” you grumble. Jongho laughs and Yunho shakes his head lightly.

It’s been a few weeks since Yunho sent Seonghwa and Hongjoong to their own designated islands, far far away from here. You’re glad that he did it, you’re not as afraid whenever you walk outside to get your mail, or go to the grocery store. Moreso, because Yunho is constantly by your side. It’s not something you mind at all, it’s just a little funny. Whenever you open your front door, Yunho appears immediately by your side, watching as you take it from the box. He insisted on doing it himself (and everything else, but you stopped that immediately). There’s always a pout on his lips as you do it, but it’s only for show. He just wants you safe, and that’s something that you don’t mind.

The grocery store is a different story. You’ve never felt closer to him whenever you go. He’s attached to your arm, fingers curled into yours as you walk around. Always asks questions about what things are, annoyed whenever someone gets a bit too close to you, hands running down your arm. You’ve noticed that when he’s nervous his skin gets a bit sticky (an almost slimy texture), and small circles appear on his hands. After you confronted him about it before, he shyly explained that it’s his suction cups, and sometimes they appear whenever he feels extreme emotions.

God, you’d never get used to having an octopus as a partner.

“How’s the shop renovation? Complete yet?”

Jongho nods happily. “Finally! Just need to get some things shipped from the farm and everything will be freshly stocked. God, that fire seems like years ago,” he shivers. “I still have no idea how it happened or how we got out.”

“I did it.”

You both stop chewing, looking at Yunho. His eyes flick between you both, light circles starting to appear on his arm. “Is there anything wrong?”

“You saved us from the fire? You dragged us out?”

He nods slowly. “I just appeared on the surface, but I sensed you two in danger so I pulled you out. I thought you knew this already, you were staring right at me as I dragged you.”

“I couldn’t see anything because it was too dark-!”

“Thanks!” Jongho interrupts you, patting Yunho a bit harshly, causing him to spill a little soup on his shirt. He stares down at it as Jong speaks. “If it weren’t for you well, we’d be six feet under right about now.”

Yunho picks at the stain. “What does that even mean?”

“Dead. We’d be dead,” you say, still staring at him in awe. He furrows his eyes at your stare. This man is more involved in your life than you realized. He’s saved you more than you know, and you wanted to push him away. What a fool you would have been. “Thank you, Yun.”

He smiles. “Anything for you.”

-

Everything is amazing with Yunho. You get to see him often, he sometimes visits you at the library whenever the sea shows that he watches isn’t enough to entertain him, or the park is closed. You love spending time with him, you do. But something changed. The past few days it grew even more apparent. You would come home from work, and he’d sniff you. You assumed that it was just a random encounter, but he does it each time you leave the room and come back in. Head on your neck, inhaling your scent.

And that’s not the strangest part. He’d stare at you for a moment, brush his hands over the spot, linger, then look away and pretend as if nothing happened. The first time was subtle, not enough for you to pay much mind to. But it happens too often for you to just let it slide. In the mornings, (Yunho still sleeps in his own room), he’d stand outside your door, do the usual routine, and then take his hours long baths. Everyday.

Every. Single. Day.

And now, as you sit next to him on your bed. He does the same. Your legs wrapped around him, hand resting on his stomach. His head is in the curve of your neck. This time though his breathing is heavy, fingertips indenting your side as he pulls you closer. You shudder as his tongue slowly runs down the skin, mouth closing around it, sucking lightly.

“Yun,” you stutter. He stops immediately, pulling away from your body.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he quickly runs through the apologies, finger stroking your cheek as he spills more and more. You laugh, shaking your head.

“If you wanted to have sex all you had to do was ask, you know.”

His face burns darker than you’ve ever seen him, hand trembling as he strokes your cheek. “I didn’t,” he rubs his face. “I do, I really do. But, you’re a human, and I am a… I don’t know. It might be different, and I don’t want to hurt you. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever caused you any injuries.”

You shake your head. “You won’t.”

“But what if I do?”

“But you won’t.”

“But-”

“Yunho.” You stop him from speaking. “I know you’re not going to hurt me, okay? I can always tell you to stop, and I trust that you’ll listen to me if I feel like there’s something wrong.”

He looks at you, his brown eyes warming as the sun hits them. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shrug, “Well, that is true…”

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls you in for a kiss. Looking into your eyes to see if it’s okay, he slowly guides you against him, his body moving on top of yours. His hands slowly travel underneath your shirt, guiding it off of you. You lift your arms, letting him move it up your body. He pauses when it reaches your bra, pressing light kisses against your stomach, sternum, leading up to the curve of your breasts. His mouth lingers on the plump lift of your chest. You can feel as he smiles into your skin, the remainder of your shirt thrown to the side.

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, eyes slowly lifting to yours. They’re much darker, swirling with lust and love. “Is it all for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. He winks, his hand tugging on your bra. Before you reach to unclasp it for him, he rips it easily with a slight tug of his hand. Your breath hitches, not knowing whether to be turned on or a little scared.

Or both.

His tongue glides along your skin, reaching your nipple and sucking lightly. You moan as he pushes down your pants, nails scratching you as he quickly pushes them to the side. His fingers dig into your hips, mouth moving to the other side. His skin is cool, slowly growing moist and sticky as he continues.

You feel a strange sensation on your thighs, and look down at him. Yunho is still against your stomach, groaning lightly. Sweat decorates his forehead, dripping onto you. You quickly lean up, fear coursing through your veins. Is this what he was talking about? Does sex hurt him?

“Yun?”

Your eyes widen once you lean up, finally seeing what’s wrong. There’s a huge tear in Yunho’s shirt, tentacles growing larger and larger, some falling onto your legs, the others lying on the side. He looks up at you, eyes completely black, mouth open as he groans, fingers digging into your thighs. It’s not enough to draw blood, but you’re sure they’re going to leave behind small bruises.

“We can stop if you want,” he gasps, a tentacle slowly wrapping around your leg, inching closer and closer to your center. You fall back slowly, watching as another touches your hand with hesitancy, it’s moist texture raising your curiosity. You can feel the suction cups adhere to your skin, pulling on it lightly as it travels it’s way.

“y/n, please. Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, biting your thigh lightly. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to do anything. I can enjoy you as we are, nothing too far.” The pure and unrivaled care that he has in his voice. It only makes you sniffle. Yunho quickly flicks his head up to you, uneased. His whole body freezes.

“I… I love you Yunho, and I want to do this with you.”

“Why are you crying?” he asks gently, hands massaging your side.

“Because I’ve never met someone who cares about my feelings so much,” you confess, rubbing your eyes. “God, I can’t believe I’m crying during sex.”

He beams at you, “You only make me more and more elated,” his tentacle pulsates around your leg, now on your lower thigh. “And a little aroused.”

You chuckle at his dirty talk, your laugh disappearing quickly when one of the tentacles make it between your legs. It hesitantly teases your lips, before slowly guiding along your mound, pressing against your clit. Your legs tighten around Yunho as he holds you apart, eyes on your middle. It’s secretions moisten your mound more than it already is, entering you. It’s small at the end, the size of a finger. You groan, throwing your head back as it enters more and more slowly.

Yunho lets go of your legs for a moment, ripping the rest of his clothing off. His torso is covered in small circles, a more green color, as if he’s blending into your bedsheets. He leans down, eyes on you as he sucks your clit lightly.

“Fuck,” You gasp, clutching your bedsheets. “Please…”

Another tentacle makes it underneath your body, lifting you with ease. It travels around your back, slowly moving around the curve of your ass, before making it just outside the hole. Before you could tell Yunho that you’ve never done that before, the tentacle enters slowly. He trembles, moving away from your cunt, hands shaking.

“You’re so tight,” he utters through struggling breaths. “I have to tell you something.”

You nod, moaning as his tentacle moves another inch. It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought, the burn of the entrance mended by the slick skin of the tentacle. Yunho pauses for a moment.

“I know humans don’t usually urinate when they mate but…” His eyes flutter as he feels you tighten around him. “That’s how I mark my territory. My limbs are going to release into you. I just need to know if you’re okay with me inside of you.”

He looks into your eyes. Urine? You’ve never thought much of it before, but it did linger in your head sometimes. To be honest, it never turned you off whenever you stumbled upon it during your endless searches. And Yunho, staring at you as his tentacles moved inside you, doesn’t seem like a better time to try it out.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can pee in me, fuck.” His tentacles immediately pick up the pace, suckers sticking to places inside you, moving in and out with precision. You moan loudly as the bed creaks, another two limbs encircling your chest, squeezing your breasts. Your senses are taken over by the moist, cold tentacles moving on you. Yunho leans forward, lips against yours, tongue frantic as the tentacles pick up their pace. His head tucks into your neck, breaths rapid.

“They’re about to…” he trails off, groaning. Immediately, the warm liquid spills into your ass and cunt, pushing as far as it could inside of you, filling you up. Your orgasm hits immediately, legs trembling as they tighten around the limbs, keeping them in place for a moment. With struggle, the tentacles slowly slide out, dripping as they pull out, moving to the side. Yunho reaches down, and you follow his hand.

His fingers are wrapped around his cock. It’s a light green in color, ridges running down the length. It’s an average size, but the girth is more than you expected it to be. It’s almost as thick as a soda can, and your heart only beats faster at that realization. It would split you apart.

Yunho rubs it slowly, lids heavy as he stares down at you. Fuck it.

“Can I?” he asks, rubbing his length along your cunt, the ridges rubbing against your clit. You nod, and he slowly enters you, groaning. His tentacles wrap around your back, slowly guiding you onto his cock. His length is difficult to enter you, the help of the tentacles and the layer of slick from them making it easier. Soon enough, his balls rest against the outside of your lips.

You’re a bit shocked that he made it in with such ease, the feeling of him taking over everything else. Your fingers dig into his arm as he slowly backs out, before entering you again. He does it inch by inch, lightly kissing your body to comfort you. He slowly drags his cock out of you. His gaze moves down, the combination of his slick and your arousal covering his cock. You feel empty, your hand tugging him forward again.

He chuckles. “You’re an interesting one.”

“What does tha-”

He pushes himself harshly against you, the breath leaving your lungs for a moment. He’s moving much quicker than you thought, balls slapping against you as he quickened his pace. His veins pop out against his skin, fingers slowly sticking to your skin, suckers appearing on his palm. He groans, muscles straining as he takes in the feeling of you around his cock. His tentacles wrap around your body, one moving closer to your neck. It tickles your skin, before wrapping lightly around it.

Your cunt only tightens more, encouraging him. His hips pick up the pace, cock easily moving in and out of you. The slap of his skin on yours echoes around you, the fear of him ripping you apart replaced with the need to reach your end. He keeps up the neverending pace with ease, panting and eyes focused on yours. He can feel his cock getting harder, his end getting closer and closer to fruition. You can feel your end hearing as well, the pulsing of your cunt and the high almost at the perfect spot.

“I… I think I’m going to cum,” he utters, hips stuttering. “Cum for me, y/n.” His fingers grip your hips, harshly pulling you against him. He leans forward, mouth sucking on your neck and tentacle moving to the side. “Cum.”

Your orgasm hits you at one more pump of his hips, legs wrapping around his body as you violently tremble against him. Yunho wraps himself around you, holding you against his body as you feel his hot cum against your walls, filling you as much as it could. Your breaths level out, Yunho still wrapped around you. Despite his orgasm, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you, stiff against your still trembling walls.

“Why are you still hard?” you mumble into his ears.

He laughs, kissing just behind your lobe. “I have a lot of stamina.”

“How long?”

He moves away from your neck, eyebrow raised. “At least four more times.”

“Four-?!”

“Relax y/n, I’d never make you go that far. Once is enough for me,” he says softly, love in his eyes. “I’ll do anything you desire.”

“That’s cute, kinda gross,” you murmur, and he only chuckles. “I love you, you know. I don’t care what you look like or how many tentacles you have. I’ll still love you the same.”

“What happens when I leave?” he says so softly, you almost don’t hear it. “Once I turn back into a Kraken…”

“That’s not something to think about right now. I have you at this moment. And that’s enough for now.”

He nods slowly, looking at you in deep thought. “I won’t leave you, I’ll figure something out. There’s no use for a Kraken in these modern times. I don’t need to protect the seas any longer. I will stay human.”

He somehow presses you closer to him, “For you. I won’t give up on you.”

-

@cultofdionysusnet

[likecanyoujustnot]

Jude’s trial, Cardan’s pov

A/n: I’m supposed to be getting ready for my birthday party but I have massive procrastination issues. And this picks off right where the letter ended. Kinda long.

“What do you mean he is dead?”

There were tears in Taryn’s eyes as I paced in front of her.

“He washed up on the beach near our house.” She sniffed. “I don’t know how it happened.”

“When did you notice he was missing?”

I had last seen him two days ago. Entertaining a group of young faeries.

“He didn’t come home after last night and that’s nothing out of the ordinary, you know how he is.”

Yes I did.

“What are you going to do about it?” She looks at me cautiously.

“Hold a trial, I want to find who did this.” I may hate his cheating guts but I wanted to know who in my court thought it was a good idea to kill off my master of revels.

She froze. “Am I a suspect?”

“For now, until we can rule out your innocence.”

She nodded slowly. “What if it was Jude?”

It was my turn to freeze. “What makes you think it was her?”

“She doesn’t like him, and she doesn’t like you much at the moment either, this could be her way of sending a message.”

Not likely. If she wanted to send a message she would’ve crept into my rooms and slit my throat while I slept. This wasn’t her style.

“Trials begin at the beginning of the week, in two days, you are first Taryn.”

She nodded and walked off, a slight tremble in her hands.

Dammit.

Valerian and Locke. Both dead. I didn’t mourn valerian and I doubted I would mourn Locke. They were both awful. But it was now just me and Nicasia. I would probably have to tell her of the murder. She’d probably believe it to be Jude. I don’t know how Taryn could sell out that it might be her twin sister.

I didn’t think it was, but still.

I gave instructions to the guards and Randalin and went back off to my room.

My head was pounding and I wanted nothing more than to just sleep.

I was the king. I could do whatever I wanted.

And so I slept.

The next few days passed without hassle, until the day of the inquest came.

I saw Nicasia first.

She looked awful. Tired and distant. A dress the colours of the sea on her. And next to her stood my mother.

It was night time, the first of the stars visible when a mortal woman walked up to where we stood.

She wore a bronze dress and had a hood pulled over her head.

Taryn looked so much like Jude it hurt. I wonder what would happen if I just left and ran off to the mortal lands to find my wife.

The cold voice of one of my personal guards cut through the chatter. “Taryn Duarte. Wife of Locke. You must stand in the place of petitioners.”

She moved to where she was indicated to stand.

“Taryn?” I asked.

She raises her eyes to me and I am struck by a realisation.

That’s not Taryn.

That’s Jude.

The high queen of faerie.

My wife.

My heart skipped a beat.

“Your majesty.” She said.

“We recognise your grief.” I did my best to keep my voice even. “We would not disturb your mourning were it not for questions over the cause of your husband’s death.” Though I supposed I’m her husband.

Jude.

Here.

“Do you really think she’s sad.” Nicasia cut in. I almost roll my eyes. She steps closer to Taryn- no, Jude- and I tense. Nicasia had a tendency to be irrational, had he friend had just been murdered, making her even more unpredictable. “Did you kill Locke yourself? Or did you get your sister to do it for you?”

“Jude is in exile.” Her words are soft, and I yet again marvel at how easily she can lie. “And I’ve never hurt Locke.”

“No?” I interjected. I leant forward on the throne. My tail twitched. She’s lying again. If she is truly Jude, which she is, she has hurt Locke in the past.

“I lov…” Jude stopped. To anyone else it would look like she was grieving, as though the words were too hard to say.

But I knew better. She was having to force herself to say it.

“I loved him.” She lets out a little sob.

“Sometimes I believed you did yes.” I force my tone to be absentminded, as though I didn’t care. I did believe she loved Locke. And I hated her, for loving him and not me, Locke for tricking her, and myself for not being good enough. “But you could be lying. I am going to put a glamour on you. All it will do is force you to tell us the truth.” I curved my hand and magic shimmered in the air.

“Now, tell me only the truth. What is your name?”

If she wears no protection, under the glamour, she will be forced to admit her title as well. Jude Duarte Greenbriar, High Queen of Elfhame, wife of Cardan.

And that would cause a huge problem.

“Taryn Duarte.” She curtsied. “Daughter of Madoc, wife of Locke, subject of the High King of Elfhame.

Liar. She had to be Jude. I smiled. “What fine courtly manners.”

“I was well instructed.” We were instructed together.

“Did you murder Locke?” There is a silence following my words. The folk quiet in apprehension.

“No.” She said, she gave a pointed look to Nicasia. “Nor did I orchestrate his death. Perhaps we ought to look to the sea, where he was found.”

I wanted to laugh at the poeticness of this moment. Either Taryn had killed Locke and didn’t want anyone to know, or Jude killed both of them and was know planning my own demise. That didn’t scare me as much as it should have.

Nicasia turns to me. “We know Jude murdered Balekin. She confessed as much. And I have long suspected her of killing Valerian.” I wondered how she would react if I told her she had killed him. “If Taryn isn’t the culprit then Jude must be. Queen Orlagh, my mother, swore a truce with you. What possible gain could sue have from the murder of your master of revels? She knew he was your friend- and mine.” Her voice breaks at the end, her grief palpable.

I peer back down at Jude. “Well, what do you think? Did your sister do it? And don’t tell me what I already know. Yes I sent Jude into exile. That may or may not have deterred her.”

She looks like she wants to punch me. “She had no reason to hate Locke, I don’t think she wished him ill.”

“Is that so?” I knew for a fact she did.

“Perhaps it is only court gossip, but there is a popular tale about you, your sister and Locke.” I wanted to snap at my mother for bringing herself into a conversation where she is not needed. “She loved him, but he chose you. Some sisters cannot bear to see the other happy.”

I glanced at her.

“Jude never loved Locke.” Her face went a slight pink. “She loved someone else. He’s the one she’d want dead.”

I flinched at both meanings to her words. She wanted me dead, and she loved me.

I wasn’t sure which alarmed me more.

She loved me

Loved.

As in past tense

“Enough.” I said before she could keep talking. “I have heard all I care to on this subject-”

“No!” Nicasia interrupted. Everyone stirred a little. She cut me off. The high king. She seems to realise it as she goes on. “Taryn could have a charm on her, something that makes her resistant to glamours.”

I glared at Nicasia for undermining my authority. I look back to Jude and give her a cruel smile. “I suppose she’ll have to be searched.”

I could sense Nicasia’s sneer.

Jude stood up taller in a position that reminded me of Oriana. “My husband was murdered. And whether or not you believe me, I do mourn him. I will not make a spectacle of myself for the court’s amusement when his body is barely cold.”

I admired the sheer will and determination in her voice.

My smile only grew. This is was chance to get her alone. “As you wish. Then I suppose I will have to examine you alone in my chambers.”

I could barely keep myself from smiling in glee. Jude was back. And she was following me to my rooms. And there I would ask her why she stayed away so long. Why she didn’t come home to me.

She was nervous, she had no clue I knew she wasn’t Taryn. And that scared her. She knew that if I had her undressed I would know her body. Her scars and imperfections.

Never mind I could tell who she was just off of her face.

I passed a hooded servant carrying pale green wine.

There was a cry and a crash behind me and I wip around. Jude is on the floor, the servant with her. Her dress soaked in wine and the shattered glass around them.

Jude helped the servant girl sweep up debris before she says. “Oh no, my lady, your pardon, you ought not lower yourself.”

One of my guards catches her arm. “Come along,” he said as he lifted her to her feet, and we continued walking.

Two servants open the heavy doors to my chambers and I threw myself down in a low couch in the parlour, Jude stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.

My feet rested on the stone table. “Well.” I said, patting the couch beside me, an invitation for her to sit. “Didn’t you get my letters?”

“What?” She croaked.

“You never replied to a one. I began to wonder if you’d misplaced your ambition in the mortal world.”

“Your majesty.” Her said, voice stiff. “I thought you brought me here to assure yourself I had neither charm nor amulet.”

I raised an eyebrow and my smile deepened. “I will if you like. Shall I command you to remove your clothes? I don’t mind.” Not in the slightest.

“What are you doing.” She’s desperate now. “What are you playing at?”

She still thought she can convince me she’s Taryn. It was adorable. “Jude, you can’t really think I don’t know it’s you. I knew you from the moment you walked in the brugh.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

I stood, watching her intently. “Come closer.”

She took a step back.

I frowned. “My councillors told me that you met with an ambassador from the court of teeth, that you must be working with Madoc now. I was unwilling to believe it, but seeing the way you look at me, pervades I must.” She was angry, and rightfully so, looking like she wanted to run me through with a knife. “Tell me it’s not true.” It could not be true, she wouldn’t plot against me, would she? Though if I died, she would be free to rule without me, Madoc whispering in her ear.

“I’m not the betrayer here.”

“Are you angry about-” I stopped, studying her face more carefully. “No, you’re afraid. But why would you be afraid of me?” I’d never done anything for her to fear.

“I’m not.” She trembled. “I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.”

“Of course it was a trick-” I noted that she was now holding a blade. Sheathed, but it looked deadly.

Suddenly everything shook. An explosion that was close enough to cause us both to stumble. Books fell and crystal orbs rolled onto the floor. I looked at her, surprised, before I realised, she could have done this. My eyes narrowed.

Then there’s the sound of metal striking metal, swords.

“Stay here.” She drew the blade.

No. “Jude, don’t-” I call after her as she slipped out of the room.

Dammit.

I had Jude back, and I would not loose her again. I drew into my power, commanding it to listen, to reshape the burgh. Commanding the doorways to crack and shrink. From the screams of the guards I knew that vines, roots and leaves were clicking them, starting to creep around their necks, strangling them.

They had taken Jude.

And they would not forget it.

[pchautoworld2022]

PCH Autoworld: A house of pre-owned luxury cars, second hand used luxury premium cars in Gurgaon, Delhi NCR, Mumbai and India

[mrsstan21]

Attention to Detail

GIF credit: @angel060563

Summary: Men rarely pay attention to the things women say, but that's not the case with Officer Tom Hanson.

Tom Hanson x Reader 

A/N: Just a quick Drabble!

Warnings: None! fluff!

Word Count: 958 :)

For the past three weeks me and Penhall were at a local high school making a bust on drug dealing. 

It was always fun when me and Doug were put on a case together, he always knew how to make these cases interesting.

After I got a gun pointed to my head by one of the suspects we made an arrest. 

I asked Jenko if I could have the day off and work at my desk. 

“Hey how you doing” Penhall asked pulling a chair next to me. 

“I’m fine…isn’t the first time I got a gun placed to my head”.  

“Hanson, Penhall, Y/L/N in my office” Jenko spoke. 

I took a seat next to Penhall on the couch while Hanson stood up.

“We got a new case apparently somebody is trying to relocate SouthCentral High School one room at a time. Last night was the fourth BE in the same amount of months. No forced entry, no busted windows”. Jenko informed.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a break in” I added. 

“Burglary says to smacks of an inside gig. Like one kid gets a set of master keys, the next thing, half the school’s drinking free sodas, and on top of that, some teachers getting free roses from so secret admirer” Jenko continued.

“Got any suspects?” Hanson asked. 

“Got a couple. My best bet is a guy named Jeffery Stone. Sells everything from hot records to tickets to the Boss’s concerts, third row”. 

“Sounds like a real sales man” I spoke. 

“well Hanson your on this case. Penhall will be your backup in case things go south. Y/N I want you here going over this Stone guys profile see if you can get anything off him” Jenko informed us.

“Not a problem I gotta help Ayoki study for his test anyway”.

The three of us group outside by Hansons desk. 

“So aside from the kid selling merchandise we also got a stalker creeping on a teacher and leaving her flowers” Penhall spoke grabbing a cup of coffee.

“At least she’s getting flowers” I mumbled sitting on Hanson’s desk. 

“Aw come on Y/N I bet you get flowers all the time” Penhall teased. 

I rolled my eyes. 

“What no one’s given you a bouquet of roses?” Hanson asked. 

I look at him. 

“I don’t even remember the last time I got a single flower let alone a whole bouquet. Besides roses are so clique every girl loves red roses. I on the other hand am very different...Would make my day if a guy got me a single white lily my favorite flower”.   

***

It was getting late, Ayoki and I had been doing practice questions for I don’t know how many hours. 

We decided to break for a while and I took it as an opportunity to rest my head on my desk. 

But ended up knocking out instead. 

The sound of a loud book hitting my desk made me shot up. 

“A felon cannot be issued a drivers license” I spoke still half asleep. 

I rubbed my eyes to see a smiling Hanson sitting on top of my desk. 

“Oh it’s just you Hanson” I yawed stretching. 

“What are you still doing here this late” he broke into a smirk.

“it’s not that late it’s only…midnight” I looked over at my watch.

“She was helping me study that is until she fell asleep two hours ago” Ayoki smiled passing by.

“God I am tiered” I rubbed my eyes again. 

“Why don’t you let me give you a ride I’m about to head out anyways” Hanson said. 

I took him up on his offer, and he drove me home. 

“Can I ask you something” he asked staring at the road in front of him.

“Shoot.”

“You know so much about cars yet you don’t own one?” He smirked.

I let out a small chuckle. 

“Yeah well I live about a twenty min walk from the chapel. 

And if I ever wanted a ride somewhere I don’t live that far away from Penhall so I could always ask him for a lift”. 

“From the time I’ve been here not once have I seen you and Penhall come in together”.

“Ok if I’m honest I prefer walking it helps clear my mind”.

“Sounds like a fair game” he glances over at me. 

When we arrived to the front of my apartment complex I thanked him for the ride. 

He stayed and made sure I got inside before taking off. 

Hanson was starting to rub off on me. 

***

The following day Hanson closed the case, and made an arrest turns out the janitor was the one setting up Stone. 

I was at my desk cleaning out my file drawer when I notice someone sit on my desk. 

Looking up I saw a smiling Hanson again.

“Hey Hanson congrats not screwing up your case” I smiled. 

“Thanks…hey I got something for you” he spoke nervously. 

I gave him a confused look before he pulled his hand from behind his back. 

There in my sight was a single white lily. 

“What’s this” I smiled. 

“Well you said  you didn’t remember the last time you got a flower so I took it upon myself to get you one” he smiled. 

“And you got me a white lily” I took the flower from him smelling it.

“What you didn’t think I was paying attention?”.

“Well Hanson no offense but most guys don’t usually pay attention to what comes out of my mouth. But in fact are paying more attention to…well you get the idea” I laughed. 

“Well I just thought you could use something nice to start your day” he smiled.

I got up and kissed him on his cheek. 

“Thank you Hanson” I whispered to him. 

He blushes.

[francesderwent]

my brain is fried i'm so overtired I've cried spontaneously at least once a day for the past three days will you please help a girl out with a soft cozy wholesome movie recc please and thank you

I’m so sorry my dear!! I dug to the depths of a bunch of old tag games and my film tag and this is what I came up with!

when I’m strung out I tend to gravitate to movies that will make me happy-cry so this list will at moments tend in that direction. I tried to sort by what was available to stream now, and the sub-lists are in no particular order

if you have amazon prime (the basic package):

Penelope (2006). highly recommend, a funny little modern fairy tale about a lonely young girl searching for a way to break her curse. this one heals something in my heart

Stardust. also highly recommend! a chaotic fairy tale about true love and what a person would do for it.

Street Gang. the Sesame Street documentary. sometimes people are good and they’re trying to make the world a better place and they’re doing it with their friends.

How To Train Your Dragon. it’s a perfectly executed film and the score and animation is gorgeous. (also available on netflix)

if you have netflix:

Feel the Beat. a dance flick about a seemingly cold-hearted ambitious young woman becoming a dance teacher in her hometown

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. so so so rewatchable.

She’s the Man. the funniest movie on this list and possibly of all time. I have never shown this movie to a person who didn’t end up loving it. it’s Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night at boarding school as a soccer movie

if you have tubi?? you might not need a membership I don’t know how tubi works??

The Music Man. some of the best costumes and choreography my favorite age of movie musicals had to offer. a con man comes to a small Iowa town and starts to want to believe in the beautiful lie he’s selling.

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. this movie was written by Roald Dahl and it is buck wild. widowed inventor and his two children buy a broken down racing car and?? hijinks and musical numbers ensue

if you have disney plus:

Princess Diaries (1&2). we know them, we love them.

Sky High. if you haven’t seen this, I highly recommend it because it is silly fun but it understands the genre it’s playing with.

Newsies (1992). scrappy newsboys form a union, sing songs, punch each other, ???, profit

Holes. the single best adapted book to film ever? the cast commentary is also hilarious

Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella (1997). absolutely delightful. Whitney Houston as the godmother! Jason Alexander as the butler! Brandy as Cinderella! Bernadette Peters as the stepmother!

if you feel up for a trip to the library, things to look for:

The Hundred Foot Journey. I only saw this one once but it’s about a family who opens up an Indian restaurant across from a Michelin-starred French restaurant and it’s gorgeous

A League of Their Own (1992). sisters! best friends! married women and their disreputable drunk coach friends!

The Secret Garden (1993). highly recommend! this one fixes me down to my bones.

This Beautiful Fantastic. also highly recommend! a woman who’s afraid of the world falls in love with it.

Secondhand Lions. also highly recommend!! a boy gets dropped off with his great-uncles for the summer, hears possibly made-up stories of their wild and adventurous youth

August Rush. a young musical prodigy searches for his parents.

Sense and Sensibility (1995). if you need Austen energy, this is the one.

Cinderella (2015). this movie is so gentle and so lovely.

Little Women (1994). life is gonna be hard and sad but it’s gonna be beautiful and the love will endure!!!

I hope this helps and I hope you feel better! ❤️❤️

[cheshirecatuniverse]

Fight Back! (Rocky)

Rocky Mutsugi x Flag Girl! Reader

Song: Prince Charming - Willa Ford

Summary: To a lot of people, you're just a pretty piece of work. But tonight, you felt special.

WC: 1.8k

Notes: my works can be gorey, violent, and other mature themes! HIII IM BACK, school has been a pain in the ass but i have never stopped writing! this is my first oneshot to my high&low x fast&furious au, keep an eye out for more in the future. not edited.

Fast & Furious AU Masterlist

The streets were buzzing with people and cars in parallel lines. Giving space for the race "track" of the night.

The crowds of people overflowed the sidewalks and onto the street. Groups were flaunting their modified cars, some placing bets on the races, and others who took the opportunity to sell car parts.

Three white motorcycles sped past you, making you rub your arms at the sudden breeze. The bikes, or rather the drivers, caught the attention to everyone around you.

"Is it... a gang?" The girl beside you asked obliviously. Like you, another one of the boss's "showgirls" as he likes to call you.

Behind you, a voice intruded, "Girrll, do you even know who sponsored tonight?"

"Who?"

One of the belt loops of your shorts had the flag loosely tied around it. The custom logo on the black and white was known well on these streets.

"White Rascals," You answered, looking around. The men dressed fully in white had been patrolling even before you got here. Easy to spot in the crowd. The deal was that if the race was on their territory, then it would be in their control.

You told the girls around you, " 'm gonna go find Tej." Then split fast to go through the crowds of people. You couldn't start a race without Tej, everyone's favorite announcer.

"You look stunning, (Y/n)."

"Cute top!"

"Check out the flag girl."

You thanked the people you knew and smiled at the strangers who whistled and yelled. Something that happened everytime you walked into the crowded streets.

Once a week, you'd take the time out of your night to be a spectacle. The men who ran the races always needed women in short-shorts and skirts to get people's attention.

Which was fine by you. You got a fat check at the end of every night.

"(Y/n)," Tej jogged over you when he spotted you. Wearing a white jumpsuit with his garage's name on the corner. His gold watch and rings complementing his brown skin. "You gonna help me sell tonight?"

"As long as the money pours," You smile and nodded, walking back with him to the starting line.

"Mhm," He hummed and crossed his arms. "Though, you're probably not gonna get much from the boss tonight. You should help me sell a couple cars tomorrow, too."

"Wait, why?" You scoffed in disbelief.

"Boss has to split with Rocky. 55 to 45."

Rocky, you knew vaguely that he was the leader of White Rascals. He must have been a convincing man to get forty-five percent.

You pursed your lips, hiding your agitation. "Fine. Text me tomorrow then."

You found yourself back on the edge of the sidelines. The cars for this match already cruising down to line up, their supporters following beside them.

"Boss says 5 minutes 'til," One of the other showgirls called out.

"My cue," Tej popped out his collar and walked in the middle of the road.

Once Tej stepped away from the street, you came after. You tugged the flag from your shorts as you strutted to the center. Heels, hitting the black street with almost a bit of passion. But you wouldn't let your boss get your very best, no. Not with the pay you'll get tonight.

The whistles and whoops were all ignored. Only the loud and vibrant colored cars in front you had your attention. With a hand on your hip you watched, the racers revving the engine. The headlights made your earrings glimmer, made your lip gloss shine.

For a moment, it made you be the thing everyone was looking at. The only thing, something you ignore because it didn't really matter to you. The rush and the control, that was what you made you giddy. As you yelled for the racers to be prepared you raised the flag in your hand, you smiled at the way the cars and crowd grew louder.

Then, at your decision, you abruptly brought down the flag. The cars hurtled past you, and you turned back to watch them get smaller and faster in the distance. Still smiling, in your own world.

Back in the sidelines you handed the flag to the next girl for the next round. You could still feel the eyes on the crowd on you, which was good. When the matches were over you had to stand around and clean Tej's products.

Thirty minutes later you ended up at one of the public bathrooms. The buddy-system isn't something that is easily forgettable, the other girls employed by the boss made that clear. So when one of showgirls you were more friendly with had to go, you would be evil to say no.

"I'm right behind you," You gave her permission to leave the bathroom before you.

You took only one minute to fix the small flaws in your hair, adjusting your top even though it was fine as it was. But a minute was all it took for some guy to get all in her business.

Running heels was not the best idea, but the way the stranger was holding her arms slowly trying to drag her away made you panic.

No, nope.

So you slipped a heel off and threw it. You watched as the man stumbled at the impact to his head.

It was not going be enough to stop him but it gave you enough time to take of your other heel. You ran to your friend's side, ignoring the way your foot got cut for stumbling into some broken glass.

"Mind your business," The man growled. More agitated at the fact that you were shielding your friend than that you threw your 5 inch heel at him.

"Or what, bitch? You gonna hit a girl?" You taunt. Behind you, your friend's face paled at your insane provoking response. She was ready to yank you out of there and run for her life.

"I will if I have-"

A hand on his shoulder, made the stranger turn around and get hit with a baton. Soon enough, you aware of your surroundings. Figures dressed in white, chic with their appearances.

"That will not happen." The man in white was composed, even had a casual smile but his eyes were burning.

You expected him to finish the job, but to your surprise he backed away. Letting a man behind him step forward.

The way this man carried himself, you have never met Rocky. But you knew you were in his presence even before he pulled his hands out his coat, revealing a pair of handcuffs hanging on his wrist. Even before he opened his mouth, revealing his silver grill.

When he took off his crimson tinted sunglasses, the aggravator before you cursed quietly.

Rocky didn't glare, he didn't need to.

He titled his head to the side, simply staring at the man. "What are you doing?"

The man laughed shaking his head and pointed at you, "I didn't do shit, if anything you need to care of this crazy lady."

The audacity this man had you and your friend stare at each other with disbelief. As if somehow he was going to make this all go away.

When Rocky walked closer, and it seemed like the man lost his mind.

"Hey! It's not my fucking fault. They're a bunch of whores who walk around starting problems."

Even before Rocky could swing a fist at the man, he stumbled to his knees. The man clutching his head in pain.

Rocky watched as you scowled, hand holding up a heel up above your head.

Koo and Kizzy let out audible sounds of suprise. Koo even took a small step back.

"Try touching one of my friends again," You warned. Then starting to yell, "Try it, you creep! I dare you!"

You started jam your heel in his head again and your friend squealed for you stop. Unfortunately, she tugged you far enough away so the man couldn't be hit again.

"Let the White Rascals deal with it," She pleaded.

"Like hell 'm not gonna do nothing," You scowled and loosened her grasp enough to kick your bloody foot to his back. It made the pathetic man crumble all the way to the ground.

"(Y/n)!"

"Oh please. His pathetic ass is fine."

One of the White Rascals walked up to his beaten up form. She crossed her arms, "Woww."

She looked to the man beside her, "What do you think, Koo? Do we dump him in the street or the dumpster."

You exhaled loudly at the sight of them dragging the guy away, stress beginning to subside in you. Another member of the White Rascals took your friend aside to consol her and offer her security.

Rocky quietly approached you, extending his hand, "Please, come with me."

"Why?" You asked. Despite your confusion, you put your hand into his much larger one. It felt as natural as gravity.

"You're injured," He looked down to your legs. Which made you realized how easily you forgotten your stinging cut. "Did he do this to you?

His warm eyes looked at you with concern. This complete stranger, who loomed over you with power. You tried not to look so taken back.

"No," You felt embarrassed, "I just.. didn't watch my step."

He nodded, leading you somewhere, "Okay, that's okay."

How you ended up on a bench with a leader of Sword kneeling before you, is honestly something you couldn't exactly explain. At first you refused to look at Rocky, looking at the cane he placed at the floor but then slowly ended up back to him.

The way he bandaged your foot was so gentle and kind, it made you feel a mix a things. Especially when he cleaned the cut on your foot with rubbing alcohol. He muttered apologies when he heard the hisses under your breath.

Rocky even went as far as slipping your heel back onto your foot. The rough pads on his finger grazing your skin in the process. It felt, comforting.

"I'll have one of my men take you home in a couple minutes," He rose up from the ground.

"I can't. Boss only pays if I'm here the whole night," You stood up too, lips pursing at the pain in your foot.

"Careful," Rocky's hands held your arms when you saw you struggling to stand. For a moment you looked up at him meekly. Again, the feeling of his hands on you.

"Don't worry about that," He shook his head, "I'll make sure you get your money."

"But," You tilted your head, "Why?"

It was foreign to have anyone around here do so much for you.

Rocly looked at you with clear eyes. He honestly answered, "I protect women."

You laughed, a smile suddenly appearing on your face. Then leaned up, pressing your lips to his cheek. He didn't have his sunglasses on to hide the way his eyes widened.

You smiled deviously. Happy with his frozen state. "You must get a lot of girls with that line."

© 2023 chesirecatuniverse all rights reserved.

[songbirdseung]

award show / nishimura riki

It was that time of the year, award season. You either love it or hate it. Maybe it's the axcitement for your favorite artist's performance, the anticipation of knowing who wins, or maybe you hate the decisions and how rigged award shows can be.

Either way, you'd turn in and you'd love to see the interactions between idols during this time. Some end well, some leads to the spark of rumors.

Y/N waits in her respective waiting room with the staff members, her managers, and bubbling anxiety. As her make up artist gets her ready, Y/N can't help but express the feelings of nervousness towards the show. This is because, this award show will be Y/N's first one, as she just debuted as a soloist under HYBE Entertainment.

A young girl at the age of 17. The company made the choice to debut her as a soloist as her talents, charisma, and character was meant to be showcased individually and they didn't want that to be hidden within a group.

Now, she was barely in the industry for 10 months, but she had a successful debut with the album selling out quicker than expected. Due to her fast gain in popularity and supporters, she was nominated for a few awards.

A lot of the high ups, her senior groups under HYBE have encouraged her so much and made sure she was taken care of.

But even with all that care and support, here she was getting her make up and hair done with anxiety and multiple "what ifs". The soft hum of the dressing room's bustling activity and the gentle hands of her makeup artist did little to quell the racing beat of her heart. She took a deep breath, trying to find some semblance of calm in the midst of it all.

Her manager, a seasoned professional who had been guiding her every step of the way, leaned in and offered a reassuring smile. "Y/N, you've got this," she said with unwavering confidence. "You've worked hard for this moment, and your talent speaks for itself. Just remember to be yourself, and everything will fall into place."

Y/N nodded, her anxiety still bubbling beneath the surface, but she appreciated the encouragement. She had always dreamt of this moment, standing under the spotlight, showcasing her music and talent to the world. But now that it was here, the weight of the expectations, the scrutiny, and the "what ifs" weighed heavy on her mind.

As her makeup artist applied the finishing touches, Y/N's phone buzzed with a message from one of her senior labelmates, a member of a well-known group within HYBE Entertainment. It was a short but heartfelt message that read, "You've got this, Y/N! We're all rooting for you. Just remember, you're not alone out there."

Reading those words, Y/N felt a renewed sense of determination. She knew she had a supportive network of fellow artists and staff members who believed in her. And deep down, she believed in herself too. She was here because she had something special to offer, something that resonated with her fans and had earned her a place at this prestigious award show.

With her makeup complete, Y/N looked into the mirror and saw a reflection of the young girl who had worked tirelessly to get to this point. She knew that the journey was far from over, but this was a significant milestone. It was her moment to shine, to express herself through her music, and to show the world what she was made of.

Taking one final deep breath, Y/N smiled at her reflection and stood up from the makeup chair. "Thank you," she said to her makeup artist and manager. "I'm ready."

The ride to the award show's location was quiet. Y/N's manager tried her best ease up the mood and crack a few jokes until the car came to a stop at their destination.

As Y/N stepped out of the car, the flashing cameras and the roar of the crowd on the other side of the velvet rope greeted her with a wave of energy. The dazzling lights of the red carpet illuminated her path, making her feel like she had stepped into a dream. Her manager offered her arm, and she took it gratefully, using the support to steady her nerves.

She took a moment to adjust her dress, ensuring that every detail was perfect. Her outfit had been chosen meticulously, a collaboration with a top designer, and she felt like a princess in it. Confidence started to bloom within her as she reminded herself of the hard work she had put into reaching this moment.

As Y/N approached the red carpet, the guards guided her through the crowd of photographers, their cameras clicking rapidly as they captured her every move. The flashes were blinding, but she managed to maintain her poise, her smile radiant and gracious. This was the moment she had always dreamed of, and she wasn't going to let nerves get the best of her.

At the end of the red carpet, the interviewer/MC awaited her, microphone in hand and a warm smile on their face. They extended a hand to Y/N, welcoming her with a kind gesture. "Y/N, it's an absolute pleasure to have you here tonight. How are you feeling on this momentous occasion?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart still racing, but her voice steady. "I'm feeling incredibly grateful and excited," she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "This is my first award show, and the support from my fans and everyone at HYBE has been overwhelming. I can't wait to share this special night with all of you."

The interviewer nodded appreciatively and asked a few more questions about her debut, her music, and her experience working with HYBE Entertainment. Y/N answered with grace and charisma, her confidence growing with each passing moment.

With the interview completed, Y/N thanked the interviewer and continued down the red carpet, pausing to interact with fans, sign autographs, and take photos with those who had supported her from the beginning. The excitement and energy of the evening filled her with a sense of purpose and a deep appreciation for the journey that had brought her here.

As she reached the entrance of the venue, Y/N couldn't help but smile to herself. The red carpet had been a whirlwind, but it was just the beginning of a night that held the promise of recognition, celebration, and the fulfillment of her dreams.

After the red carpet interview finished, she was led into the building and the area where most of the idols were already in. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at the multiple groups and soloist. She spotted familiar faces from the industry, including her labelmates, who waved and cheered for her. Their support was a source of strength, reminding her that she was part of a larger family within the entertainment world.

Y/N settled into her seat, feeling a mixture of excitement and a touch of nervousness as she looked around at the sea of familiar faces in the artist area. She exchanged polite bows and greetings with her senior idols, showing the utmost respect to those who had paved the way for her in the industry. It was a surreal experience to be among artists she had admired for years.

As she glanced around, Y/N's eyes met with those of Ni-ki from ENHYPEN, who happened to be her age. Their gazes lingered for a moment before they both offered tentative smiles and nods. It wasn't the first time they had crossed paths, but it seemed that their shyness had always kept them at a distance, despite sharing the same label.

Y/N had heard so much about Ni-ki's talent and charisma, and she had always wanted to strike up a conversation or get to know him better. However, every time she had thought about approaching him, her nerves got the best of her, and she ended up retreating into her shell. It seemed that Ni-ki was equally reserved, making it a challenge for either of them to take the first step.

Despite the unspoken distance between them, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Ni-ki. They were both young artists navigating the complex world of K-pop, and they shared a label that was known for nurturing talent. She admired his dedication and artistry from afar, and she hoped that one day they could break through their shyness and connect on a more personal level.

As the award show began, Y/N's focus shifted to the stage, where performances and award presentations unfolded. The energy in the venue was electric, and she found herself getting lost in the music and the celebration of the industry's best.

During one of the performances, she noticed Ni-ki's incredible dance moves and couldn't help but be in awe of his talent. She made a mental note to compliment him on his performance if they ever found themselves in a less crowded and intimidating setting.

Throughout the night, Y/N's nerves began to ease, replaced by a growing sense of belonging and a realization that she was part of a supportive and welcoming community of artists. She knew that the path ahead would still be challenging, but she also felt that she had a network of peers and seniors who would be there to guide and encourage her.

As the award show continued, Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Ni-ki from time to time, silently hoping that one day they would find the courage to bridge the gap between them and form a friendship that went beyond the labels they wore.

Ni-ki couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N from his seat, either. He admired her talent and charisma from a distance and had often wondered what it would be like to get to know her better. The subtle smiles and nods they exchanged earlier in the evening gave him a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could overcome their shyness and strike up a conversation.

However, what both Y/N and Ni-ki failed to consider was the watchful eyes of the fans in the audience. These dedicated fans were quick to capture every moment on their phones and upload it to social media platforms. It didn't take long for a few eagle-eyed fans to notice the interactions between Y/N and Ni-ki, and they couldn't resist sharing their observations with the world.

On Twitter and Instagram, fans began posting about the perceived tension and chemistry between Y/N and Ni-ki. They created GIFs and edited photos to highlight the moments when the two had exchanged glances and smiles. Hashtags like #YNKi or #ShyIdols quickly started trending, with fans speculating about the potential friendship or even romance between the two young artists.

As the posts gained traction, Y/N's and Ni-ki's mentions and direct messages started to fill up with messages from fans and curious followers. Some fans were shipping them as a couple, while others were simply excited about the idea of them becoming friends. The attention from the fans and the online buzz added a layer of complexity to their already shy and reserved interactions.

During one of the brief breaks in the award show, Y/N's manager leaned over and whispered, "I think the fans have noticed something." He discreetly showed her his phone, which was inundated with notifications related to the social media buzz surrounding her and Ni-ki.

Y/N's eyes widened, and she felt a flush of embarrassment. She hadn't expected their subtle interactions to garner so much attention. She turned to her manager and replied softly, "I hope this doesn't make things awkward between us."

As the award show continued, Y/N couldn't help but feel the weight of the online attention and the potential expectations of their fans. While they both longed to connect with each other, they also knew that they needed to do so on their own terms, free from the pressures of public scrutiny. Y/N hoped that, in time, they could find a way to overcome their shyness and form a genuine connection without the watchful eyes of the world on them.

As the moment for Y/N's performance approached, her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and lingering nerves. She had spent countless hours rehearsing, refining her choreography, and perfecting her vocals, all leading up to this pivotal moment. The stage awaited her, and there was no turning back.

The curtains slowly rose, revealing the grand stage bathed in an ethereal, soft blue light. Y/N stood at the center, poised and ready. The hushed anticipation in the audience was palpable, and she could feel all eyes on her.

The music began, and Y/N launched into her performance with an electrifying energy. Her powerful vocals filled the venue, carrying her song's emotional depth to every corner. She moved with grace and precision, her dance moves synchronized perfectly with the music. It was as if she was in her element, a natural-born performer.

The audience was captivated from the very first note, and as Y/N continued to sing and dance, the initial anxiety that had plagued her earlier in the day seemed to melt away. She was in her zone, pouring her heart and soul into her performance.

With each passing moment, the crowd's cheers grew louder and more enthusiastic. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, and everyone in attendance could see that Y/N was a force to be reckoned with. Her talent and charisma were undeniable, and she commanded the stage with a presence that belied her rookie status.

As the final notes of her song filled the air, Y/N struck a dramatic pose, holding it for a moment before flashing a radiant smile. The audience erupted into thunderous applause and cheers, standing on their feet to show their appreciation for her incredible performance.

Backstage, her manager watched with pride, knowing that Y/N had just proven herself as a rising star in the industry. She had not only met but exceeded the high expectations set for her. The other artists in the artist area, including Ni-ki from ENHYPEN, watched in awe as well, recognizing Y/N's immense talent.

After her small break, Y/N returned to her seat, her heart still racing but now filled with a sense of accomplishment and joy. She had blown everyone away with her performance, and she knew that this was just the beginning of her journey as a soloist under HYBE Entertainment. The respect she had earned as a rookie idol was well-deserved, and she couldn't wait to continue to share her music and artistry with the world.

As Y/N basked in the afterglow of her stellar performance, she was oblivious to the fact that once again, the fans had their eyes fixed on her and Ni-ki. This time, it was Ni-ki's reaction to her performance that drew their attention.

In the audience, as Y/N had captivated everyone with her talent and charisma, Ni-ki had been watching her with rapt attention. His eyes were locked on her, and he couldn't help but be amazed by her stage presence and the power of her performance. As she hit her final pose and the crowd erupted into applause, a smile of genuine appreciation and admiration graced Ni-ki's face.

Little did he know, the eagle-eyed fans in the audience had captured that genuine smile on camera. As soon as Y/N's performance ended, they quickly shared videos of Ni-ki's reaction on social media, eager to feed the growing fascination surrounding the two idols.

The footage showed Ni-ki's sincere admiration and applause for Y/N's performance. It was clear that he was genuinely impressed, and this simple act of support ignited a fresh wave of speculation among fans. Comments flooded in, with fans swooning over the potential "YNKi" ship and wondering if there was more to their interactions than met the eye.

"OMG, Ni-ki's reaction to Y/N's performance is the cutest thing ever! He's such a supportive fellow artist."

"I'm living for the 'YNKi' moments! Ni-ki's smile says it all – he's a fan, just like us!"

"I can't handle how adorable Ni-ki is when he watches Y/N perform. This ship is sailing!"

"Whether it's romantic or not, I love how Ni-ki and Y/N are forming a genuine bond. It's what the industry needs more of."

"I'm officially stanning the 'YNKi' friendship. They're both so talented and humble."

"Ni-ki's reaction is all of us when we see Y/N on stage – blown away by her talent!"

In the midst of this online buzz, Ni-ki remained blissfully unaware of the attention they were receiving. Caught up in the excitement and adrenaline of the event, focused on his experiences. Little did he know that the fans' fascination with their interactions was growing stronger by the minute.

Backstage, as ENHYPEN basked in the excitement of another well-deserved award, the boys were given a brief break to check their phones and relax while their makeup and hair were retouched. It was during this moment of downtime that the news of Ni-ki's reaction to Y/N's performance began to circulate among the members.

Sunghoon, always quick to pick up on any news within the K-pop industry, was the first to bring it up. "Hey, Ni-ki, have you seen this?" he said, showing Ni-ki his phone with a sly grin.

Ni-ki, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up in surprise as he saw the videos and comments related to his reaction. His face turned slightly pink as he realized what his fellow members were about to do.

Heeseung joined in with a teasing tone. "Ni-ki, it seems like you're quite the fan of Y/N's performance. Is there something you want to tell us?"

Jake chimed in, unable to resist the opportunity to tease their maknae. "Yeah, Ni-ki, are you secretly a fanboy?"

Ni-ki's embarrassment grew as he realized he had become the center of attention within ENHYPEN. He tried to deflect the teasing with a bashful smile. "Come on, guys, I was just impressed by her performance. She's really talented."

Sunghoon, however, was relentless in his teasing. "Impressed, huh? Or maybe you're just trying to hide your true feelings for her."

The other members burst into laughter at Sunghoon's comment, with Jungwon playfully adding, "Ni-ki, do you want us to set up a meeting with Y/N for you?"

Ni-ki's face turned even redder as he tried to defend himself, but his hyungs were having too much fun. The teasing continued until their makeup artist called for them to return to the stage for their next performance.

As they got back to work, Ni-ki couldn't help but smile at the playful banter. While he was slightly embarrassed by the attention, he couldn't deny that Y/N's performance had genuinely impressed him, and perhaps there was a part of him that appreciated the teasing from his supportive and close-knit group of friends and fellow artists.

Little did he know that this light-hearted teasing would only fuel the fans' fascination with the potential "YNKi" ship, making it a playful and endearing aspect of their respective careers in the world of K-pop.

"No matter what, it's heartening to see artists supporting each other's growth. Ni-ki and Y/N are shining examples." another post reads

(a/n: please actually don't ship idols romantically. this fanfiction is mainly for entertainment purposes and not something you should take to heart and mind. thank you)

As ENHYPEN made their way back to their seats after, they passed by Y/N's table. Ni-ki and Y/N, still a bit embarrassed by the recent attention they had received, refrained from making eye contact, each feeling a mixture of shyness and amusement.

The rest of the ENHYPEN members, however, couldn't resist the opportunity to continue their teasing. They exchanged knowing glances and stifled their laughter as they walked past Y/N's table. Sunghoon leaned over to Ni-ki and whispered "Hey, Ni-ki, don't forget to wave to your 'fan'."

Ni-ki's face turned even redder as he shot a playful glare at Sunghoon. The other members joined in, chuckling and making exaggerated waving motions as they passed by. Heeseung added, "You know, Ni-ki, you could at least say hello to your 'idol' crush."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at their antics from a far, and her manager, who was seated nearby, joined in on the fun. "Looks like you've got some supportive friends there," she remarked with a smile.

Ni-ki, though slightly embarrassed, couldn't help but laugh along with them. He waved in Y/N's direction, his face breaking into a shy but genuine smile. Y/N waved back with a smile, feeling more at ease with the playful atmosphere.

The exchange between them, though light-hearted, was captured by fans in the audience and promptly shared on social media. Once again, the fans couldn't get enough of the adorable interactions between the two young idols, and the "YNKi" ship gained even more followers.

"Ni-ki's shy wave to Y/N is making my heart melt. These two need to become besties ASAP."

"Ni-ki and Y/N are giving me major friendship goals. It's so heartwarming to see artists supporting each other."

Indeed, Y/N and Ni-ki were determined not to let the speculations and shipper fantasies affect their growing friendship and camaraderie. They understood that the K-pop industry was filled with passionate fans who loved to imagine connections between their favorite idols, but they also knew the importance of maintaining genuine relationships with their peers.

Over time, Y/N and Ni-ki found opportunities to interact more frequently, both at label events and during collaborative projects. They discovered common interests, shared experiences as a young soloist and a group idol and developed a mutual respect for each other's talents and dedication to their craft.

Their interactions became less awkward and more comfortable, and they began to genuinely enjoy each other's company. Whether it was a casual conversation backstage, a shared meal at a label gathering, or collaborating on a special performance, their friendship continued to blossom.

Both of their groups, ENHYPEN and Y/N's own growing fanbase, were supportive of their genuine connection. They appreciated that their idols were not only talented but also grounded and authentic individuals who valued meaningful friendships in the industry.

Their friendship served as a reminder that, beneath the glitz and glamour of the entertainment industry, it was the connections and genuine relationships that truly mattered. And regardless of whether they were viewed as a romantic couple by some fans, Y/N and Ni-ki cherished the bond they had forged and the support they provided to each other as colleagues and friends within the HYBE family.

[redrose212]

Honest Answer Eddie Munson

Summary: Your best friend Steve Harrington has a party but his usual dealer is out of town, so he asks you to go to the only other dealer he trust who happens to be the person you despise. Eddie Munson. Warning: mention of drugs,swearing,mention of drink there are gonna be 2 parts. MDNI

"This school sucks" you rant to your best friend Steve, "yes it is shit, but we have my party tonight so we have something to be happy about and it's gonna be sick". he assures you while removing his books from his locker and placing them in his bag.

You and Harrington have been friends since middle school and have always been close, you too were practically brother and sister. He's always got your back though anything."yeah well i haven't even picked out a outfit i was gonna just go in jeans and red crop top but i feel its too basic, it's pretty much what i wear on a daily" you sigh walking down to the classroom taking a seat next to Steve. "Well please don't do what u did last time and turn up late after going though 20 different choices to only go decided on the first one" he said making you roll your eyes "look i'm just a girl" you place your hand over your heart you both laugh then turn to face the front. Half way though the class Eddie walks in taking the only seat left right next to you, you turn to look at Steve giving him the annoyed look he knew you hated Eddie.

You didn't always hate him,he used to be sweet,kind,understanding but he changed in the last year. You never understood why he just started been horrible,once you saw that side of him you hated him."why so late Edward Munson". The teacher spoke as she shifted her eyes away from the bored to face him, he shrugged at her question "well detention after school" she spoke turning her head back to teaching everyone in the room Eddie then flopped his head down on his desk. It's not like Eddie not to answer back normally he tries wigging his way out of it yet today he didn't "you okay dude" Steve leaned over your desk Eddie nodded his head in response Harrington sat back in his chair waiting for class to end

2 hours later

You were home trying to pick out a outfit for Steve's party you couldn't decide between the black strapless dress or the red skirt with the matching top,you was stood there trying to choose one for longer than 10 minutes till eventually you choose the black strapless dress,you matched everything up to it your hair was in curls and your makeup was a smokey eye look and you went with a leather jacket. Soon as all that was done you set off to Steve's .

Once you arrive at the party it was already full of people Cheerleaders,the Basket ball team pretty much everyone from Hawking high you weren't really expecting this many people but then again Steve was a popular guy i mean how else would he get the name the king of hawking high."hey your finally here"he rushes over to greeting you with a hug. "Yeah sorry". You shout over the music playing from each end of the room from the expensive speakers."i need a favour you know how you owe me for getting you that movie for free from the video store for your date?", he half yells at the top of the music "yeah i remember that date it went horrible he ended up having a girlfriend the dickhead" you stated, "yeah well we are running out of weed ,my dealer in out of town and the only other dealer is..." you cut him off immediately, "ABSOLUTELY NOT NO.." he stops you from reacting. "Please you know i wouldn't ask but Eddie is the only other person that sells weed cheap and he is down the road most people are drinking i have to stay here and robin is finally getting somewhere with Vicky " he pleaded. You sigh rolling your eyes back "Fucking hell fine where's the money " Steve then points to the draw and leaves you to go stop someone from breaking the vase,You then leave the party hoping in your car and beginning to drive over to the Munson's trailer in Forest Hills trailer park .

Ones you arrive you debate on just turning back and going home but you did owe your best friend a favour. So you went and knocked on the trailer and about 3 seconds later the door swings open, "oh it's you" the long haired brunette stood in front of you in no clothing but grey joggers, his body on show, exposing his tattoo's that you have never seen before, his hair soaked from the shower water. "I..I just came for Steve's weed for his party he should of told you it was me coming" you rubbed the back of you head trying to shake the view of Eddie's perfectly shaped body out your head "come in I'll grab the bag", you nod walking into the room. Your eyes circle the room it's different to what you imagined. "I want money first never know what girls like u are like" he commands, "girls like me?" baffled about what Eddie just said, "i mean girls like you would do anything for there boyfriends even steal" he replied you look at him annoyed with his response. "Whatever Eddie you really know how to be a dick" you pass him the money as he hands you the bag. "Just get out I've seen your face enough today ". So you do exactly that you step out the trailer but just before the door shuts "wait Eddie" you speak "what?" he reacted to you "why" you stutter "why do you hate me please give me a honest answer please cause i really don't know why" you add "I don.." you cut him off "don't say you don't cause it's clear you do i mean don't think i haven't heard what you say around school, so please don't lie you, just stopped talking to me you blocked my number you dogged me eds and i never knew why" you tear up as you are speaking your words the tears making you stutter, You don't know why it was happening or why it was all coming out but it did and you wanted to know the truth" he glared at you he could hear the pain in your voice he never meant to hurt you like that he never meant to hurt you at all. "i...

I'LL POST PART 2 IN A FEW DAYS

[zenonaa]

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

Tofu!

[ao3]

Byakuya glares at his all-electric Toyota that should be fully charged and ready to go. Instead it sits in his driveway, refusing to switch on despite working perfectly well the night before. Fixing it shouldn’t be an issue. Though he isn’t a former Super High School Level Mechanic with pointed teeth and cheap hair dye, he knows a fair bit about the inner workings of vehicles. He ran a secondhand automobile business as a preteen, where not only did he sell used cars but fixed them too. In fact, he even taught employees and customers how to repair them. This had been for one of the conglomerate's challenges for choosing an heir, then once he had completed the task, he sold the business to some locals who continued to run it for quite some time afterwards.

The business only became defunct when the world almost ended.

However, while Byakuya could try to repair his car and probably would succeed, he is donning a clean work suit and is due at his job in twenty minutes.

“Togami-chi!” lilts a familiar voice.

A car trundles to a stop on the road perpendicular to Byakuya's driveway. From the driver’s seat, Yasuhiro beams at him, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

“What are you standing around for? Let me guess. Enjoying the morning dew?”

“Do I look like I’m enjoying myself?” says Byakuya, scowling.

Yasuhiro squints. Adjusts his spectacles. “Uh...”

“My car isn’t starting,” says Byakuya bluntly.

“Did you charge it?”

“Of course I did,” snaps Byakuya. “There shouldn’t be anything wrong with it.”

Yet it won't start up at all. He shoots it a frosty look.

“Cars break down for all sorts of reasons. Electronics failure, motor corrosion...” Yasuhiro counts off his fingers. “The all-mighty Indra has the flu...”

Byakuya’s lips almost disappear into his mouth as he purses them.

“No matter. I can work from home,” says Byakuya, even if he prefers to teach his students in person. Less distractions. Better internet connection. Decent coffee.

Yasuhiro waves a hand. “No need for that. I'll give you a lift, ‘right?”

A single furrow dents Byakuya’s brow while Yasuhiro's car is dented in several places. Not including its owner, it’s a car only Columbo could love. Whatever’s wrong with the suspension means the car seems to lurch every time it goes over a pebble. As he stares at it, Byakuya half-expects the tires to roll off in different directions and the vehicle to suddenly be enveloped in a ball of flames.

It’s in Byakuya’s best interest to refuse. He cups his chin. Then again, not only would he rather be physically at the school than teaching his students from home, he has also been looking forward to lunch today.

“... Fine,” says Byakuya. “I accept.”

A wide grin spreads across Yasuhiro’s face. “I knew you’d come around. Hop on in!”

But when Byakuya heads toward the front passenger seat, Yasuhiro waves his hands frantically.

“Sorry, dude! That door won’t open. And I, uh, need to clean that seat anyway. I got some ketchup stains on it... You know what burgers are like.”

Byakuya had thought he knew what burgers were like, having even eaten his first one two years ago. Since meeting Yasuhiro, however, he isn’t so sure about them. Like how he isn’t so sure he should get into Yasuhiro’s car. His fists clench at his sides as he reminds himself that he would prefer to be physically present at the school, that he has survived much more hazardous situations than this, and he has really been looking forward to today’s lunch.

So long as he makes it there alive, anyway.

Squaring his shoulders, Byakuya forces himself into the back of the car. The stitching on the seats frays in some places, puckers in others, but is surprisingly clean. Like it has recently been washed. He can see moisture on the windows and a few crumbs on the floor, but overall, the interior isn't too horrific. Somewhat cramped, but dare he say tolerable.

And it’s just a ten minute journey. Yasuhiro glows.

“All righty.” The car rattles as Yasuhiro puts it into gear. “We’ll be on our way to Hope’s Peak in no time... just as soon as we collect Fukawa-chi.”

Byakuya's brow crinkles. “What?”

The car jerks forward, jolting Byakuya. With a grimace, he settles into his seat as best he can and looks out of the window. Touko only lives down the road, so it won't eat up too much of his time. He is slightly surprised that Yasuhiro is giving her a lift to work, though. Other than Makoto and Byakuya, Touko doesn't usually feel comfortable enough to accept rides alone with men.

The car soon stops, spluttering as it does so. Byakuya and his fellow killing game survivors used to live on Hope's Peak’s campus, but after it was sufficiently rebuilt, they moved into some modest housing in a street across the city. Even if the school is quite different now, none of them can stomach living there full-time, permanently.

He folds his arms over his chest. Drums his fingers.

“We'll pop Fukawa-chi in the back next to you,” says Yasuhiro. “Won't it be nice to see her again?”

“I saw her yesterday.” Byakuya glowers. “You know I don't like being late.”

Yasuhiro laughs. “You won't be late. She'll be out any minute now, ‘right?”

Touko’s house resembles the others on the street for the most part, two stories with a window embedded in its slanted roof. The garden is what makes her home recognisable, with long grass, wildflowers throughout and log piles. When the front door opens, Byakuya’s eyes draw toward the movement, and out comes Touko. Her single braid bounces as she hurries down the path.

His eyebrows raise a tad. She seems oddly eager to get into Yasuhiro’s car.

“Good morning, Fukawa-chi!” Yasuhiro says as she slips into the back of the car.

Touko doesn't spare Yasuhiro a glance. “Good morning, Byakuya-sama!”

She must have spotted Byakuya from her window. That explained why she came over to Yasuhiro’s car so enthusiastically. Though, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had known of Byakuya’s arrival without having to look outside. There must be some logical explanation, but she has an almost uncanny ability to know when he’s nearby... something he has somehow gained over the years.

Probably just intuition. Yes.

“Good morning,” says Byakuya before curling his lip in disdain. “Is that everyone, Hagakure? Or are you carpooling the whole street today?”

“Just you two,” Yasuhiro replies. “Next stop, work!”

The car emits a grinding noise that Byakuya doesn’t think cars should make, then they’re on the move. Byakuya stares out of the window again and tightens his lips. Without needing to look at Touko, he knows she’s staring at him. He can imagine her unblinking grey eyes, her chapped lips smile. The mole by her mouth. By now, he's very familiar with the sight of her. Understandable. They see each other inside and outside of work.

“Anyone want music?” asks Yasuhiro.

“No,” Byakuya and Touko say in unison.

Yasuhiro flicks the car radio on. The song begins with almost-immediate dialogue, a woman speaking in English about having rotten judgement. Within a few lines, the tempo picks up and a backing choir joins in. Byakuya still doesn’t recognise the song, but he doesn’t care to know either. He checks his wristwatch. Despite the minor detour, they should still arrive on time.

“Have you ever seen Hercules, Togami-chi?” asks Yasuhiro.

“No, I haven’t seen the fictional son of the fictional god of sky and thunder,” says Byakuya.

“I mean the Disney movie! This song is in it. It’s when this chick called Meg doesn’t want to admit she’s fallen in love with Hercules, so these pretty goddess ladies try to coax her into embracing her feelings.”

Byakuya doesn’t recall asking him to elaborate.

“I’ve seen it,” Touko pipes up, fidgeting her hands. “I didn’t watch any Disney movies as a kid, but Komaru has shown me some... I really enjoyed M-Megara’s character. She resonated with me a lot.”

A character that’s similar to Touko isn’t what Byakuya would expect from that kind of mass media company. And from what he knows of Megara from Greek mythology, he can’t see the resemblance. He turns to her, curious. “Why is that?”

“You should totally watch it sometime, Togami-chi!” says Yasuhiro before Touko can reply. “You could get together with Fukawa-chi, sit on the couch, share some popcorn...”

Touko growls. “Don’t interrupt me!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Yasuhiro says, wincing.

She looks at Byakuya again. “The character, Megara... Her story in the movie is different to her usual depiction in Greek mythology. In the movie, s-she sold her soul to Hades in a deal to bring back her dead lover, only for him to fall in love with someone else. It left her jaded and unable to trust easily, until she met Hercules...”

“That is quite different,” replies Byakuya. “In Greek mythology, she’s gifted to Hercules by her father for winning a war. Then, while Hercules was under a spell of madness, he murdered their children and in many retellings slayed her as well.”

“He’s different in the movie. Much more... palatable. In the mythology, as you will know, with his third wife, Deianira, he was constantly unfaithful and abusive toward her, and h-he even...”

“Girl, don't be proud! It's okay you're in love!” Yasuhiro belts along with the radio, earning glares from both Byakuya and Touko.

The song peters out soon after and the next rolls on. It immediately starts with dialogue as well, in English again, but this time with goofy voices that Yasuhiro tries to imitate.

“I can see what’s happening, and they don’t have a clue. They'll fall in love, and here's the bottom line. Our trio's down to two.”

“Is this from that movie as well?” asks Byakuya.

“Nope. Still Disney, but Lion King this time,” says Yasuhiro.

Byakuya squints. “Are you playing a Disney CD?”

“Yep!”

“Do you have anything else we can listen to?”

“The CD tray won’t open. It’s jammed.”

Of course.

“Does your radio have an off switch?” asks Byakuya.

“Aw, it’s not that bad! Did you really not watch any Disney movies growing up, Togami-chi?”

“No, I didn’t. I was more interested in works by directors such as Shinya Tsukamoto and Seijun Suzuki.”

Touko, who had been listening and quietly twiddling her fingers, perks up. “E-Excellent taste, Byakuya-sama! And it’s thanks to you helping me overcome my fear of blood that I could recently watch one of Tsukamoto’s finest works.”

Byakuya knows exactly which she is referring to. The premise is that the main character had double vision that caused her to hallucinate doppelgangers who wanted to harm her child. He had recommended it to Touko, actually.

“That one was interesting, wasn’t it?” he says. “Mental health is still a rather taboo subject in this country. And you did well tolerating the graphic imagery, as her hallucinations about her son dying can get incredibly violent. There was also a lot of self-mutilation in it with the main character...”

“Indeed. But she did it for an unusual reason... She was fascinated by her body’s determination t-to stay alive. It was gruesome, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was strangely cathartic...”

“I thought you would enjoy it. You know, when I look at you, due to your alter, it’s as if I see two people that appear the same but are remarkably different... one being a serial killer, and the other of course being you.”

“Can you feel the love tonight?” warbles a woman’s voice.

“Hey, uh, it’s nice seeing you two get along and all, but let’s keep the tone light, ‘right?” says Yasuhiro, frowning.

Byakuya and Touko glare at him. It’s not that he’s wrong - over time, Byakuya has discovered that he and Touko share a number of interests, and their discussions can get quite deep and passionate. So yes, he and Touko can and do get along now, but he doesn’t need Yasuhiro to say that. Or to interrupt their discussion.

According to Byakuya’s wristwatch, they should reach Hope’s Peak in approximately five minutes. Only one, maybe two more songs can play within that time. Then Byakuya can leave the car, go into work, and finally...

“Uh oh,” Yasuhiro says loudly. “Traffic!”

Byakuya and Touko both look outside of the car and stiffen. Last time he checked, a mere minute ago, the road had been busy with just the usual morning traffic. Now motor vehicles pack them in on all sides and cram the road as far as he can see. They're all at a standstill.

“Huh. Is it the Pride Parade already?” asks Yasuhiro.

“That was last month,” says Byakuya. He scowls. “Idiot, we all went together, remember?”

“Welcome to the impromptu Sayaka Maizono Tribute Act!” booms a disembodied feminine voice. “Today would have been her early twenty something birthday... so to celebrate her life, we have taken over the city to play her songs all day! Let's kick things off with a classic... Let's Be In Together, Best Friend’!”

Obnoxious pop music blasts from outside of Yasuhiro's car. Touko shrieks, while Byakuya restrains himself to a shoulder twitch. For this supposedly being an impromptu event, the organisers seem to have fitted speakers throughout the city with remarkable speed. Around them, the other vehicles empty out as their occupants stand on their roofs and start dancing to the beat.

“This is unbelievable,” says Byakuya. “I'm walking the rest of the way.”

He tries to open the door, only for it to not budge. Hopefully it's just child lock, though he wouldn't be surprised if the door is broken.

“Unlock the door,” says Byakuya.

Yasuhiro shakes his head. “No can do, I’m afraid. It’s too wild out there, Togami-chi. And hot... Without the air con, you’d melt within seconds. This is for your own safety.”

As if on cue, the people outside start jumping and screaming. Touko yelps and hides her head under her arms, as if a group of hooligans will leap over to their car and start stomping on it too. It's peculiar how someone so strong, who had helped save a city, save the world, is cowering at ordinary nine-to-five workers dancing. Then again, Touko has always seemed to view the world in a unique way.

Touko is a peculiar person.

“In here, we’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about,” says Yasuhiro. Byakuya tears his gaze from the roof.

“We’re due at work very soon,” he reminds him in a tight voice.

“Ah.” Yasuhiro wags a finger. “That's where you're wrong. Check the teachers’ group chat.”

The smirk on Yasuhiro's face is unbearable. Byakuya pulls out his phone and swats at the screen until he brings up the aforementioned chat. Near the bottom is a message from Makoto Naegi.

‘Hi all, classes are cancelled today - there's a music event going on in the city centre and most of the students are bunking off to take part, so I figure we may as well officially have a day off today. Have fun!’

“What sort of headmaster is this?” Byakuya says in disbelief, staring at his phone.

“One who was a close friend of the person everyone’s celebrating, as well as the older brother of a fanatic Sayaker,” replies Touko.

“Look on the bright side, now you’re not going to be late,” says Yasuhiro, grinning widely. “You can stay here with me and Fukawa-chi without worry!”

Either Byakuya can brave trekking back home through the city in the heat, where it's congested and he risks being swept into a stampede, or continue to sit in Yasuhiro’s car.

“Tell me, princess. Now when did you last let your heart decide?” warbles the radio.

Byakuya starts pulling harder on the door handle. Yasuhiro twitches.

“Togami-chi! You’re gonna break my car!”

“And it’s not already falling apart?” Byakuya snaps.

A rare look of seriousness washes across Yasuhiro’s face.

“I see now... I know what’s happening.” Yasuhiro opens the sunroof. “You’re hungry. Tell you what. There’s a generic fast food restaurant nearby. I’ll grab us an early lunch before the midday rush. You two stay here and I’ll be right back. You can pay me back later.”

“Wait. Why are you able to leave but not me?” asks Byakuya.

Yasuhiro gives him a pitying look. “Togami-chi, I hate to break it to ya, but you look like the sort of person that people would want to rob.”

“What?”

Without another word, Yasuhiro climbs out through the sunroof. The car shakes a bit as he clomps across the bonnet before jumping off. Then he disappears into the crowd, leaving Byakuya and Touko alone in the car together.

“The only person who has been robbed is me, as you've stolen my heart,” says Touko, placing a hand over her heart.

Byakuya’s eyes roll. “If I possessed your heart, you would be dead.”

As quick as a cat, Touko clasps her hands together and says, “Ah... that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

 “I died, and so I am in heaven...”

Some people have the nerve to clap back at him. Others just have the capability. Few possess both qualities. In the past, Byakuya would have dismissed her as being stupid or delusional, but he has come to acknowledge, almost admire, her responses.

He clicks his tongue. With the sunroof open, music pours in from outside, a song called ‘Girls Are Yummy.’ It meshes with the off-key singing of the audience, and the radio's tune.

“That fool left the sunroof open,” says Touko, squinting upward.

“And he left the radio on,” adds Byakuya.

If he's going to be detained in Yasuhiro’s car for some time, he may as well try to make himself more comfortable. He leans over between the front seats. First, he locks the car, in case someone tries to drag him out and get him to join in the celebrations. Then he focuses on the sunroof and radio. Though he succeeds in shutting the sunroof, which only slightly muffles the noise that had been pouring in from outside, the radio doesn't respond to any of his button presses.

This goes beyond the CD tray being jammed. Frowning, he stretches over to take the keys out of the ignition, but the music continues even then.

“What...?”

Without the engine on, the radio shouldn’t be able to play anything. Yet it is. After a few more attempts at pressing on the radio, Byakuya stops shy of punching it, instead returning the key so they can have air con again and withdrawing back.

His weight shifts. He wobbles. Falls backward. And onto Touko's lap.

“Yes, you want her. Look at her, you know you do. Possible she wants you too. There is one way to ask her,” sings the radio.

“I was enjoying the view before, but I think I prefer this side of you,” says Touko, smirking.

Byakuya’s face burns. “You need to watch your mouth.”

“Do I? We’re finally alone,” says Touko, undeterred. “Now that oaf’s gone.”

She isn’t wrong.

“Nobody’s paying us any attention,” she says, with a smile that sends a shiver down him. “They’re all engrossed in the event.”

That smile used to repulse him. Used to make his skin crawl, his stomach flutter. He supposes her smile still has that effect on him, but now he doesn't mind the sensation so much. Dare he say he might even like it. Enough that he brushes some hair from her face and tucks it behind her ear so he can see the curve of her lips better.

“In that movie by Tsukamoto, despite the danger of being around the main character, her guardian angel loves her and lets her use him as a punching bag,” says Touko.

“Perhaps he is just a figment of her imagination?” he suggests lightly, his hand resting on her cheek still.

Touko hums. “He could be real.”

“You referred to him as a guardian angel.”

“That’s not a contradiction.”

Byakuya clicks his tongue, looking at her while she looks at him. When her smile widens, he smiles back slightly.

“Sha-la-la-la-la-la. Float along and listen to the song. The song say kiss the girl,” the radio warbles. 

It wouldn’t have mattered if a different song had been playing, or if the radio had been silent. Byakuya still would have leaned in, and their lips still would have met. His eyes flutter shut. Keeping his hand on her cheek, his other holds her upper arm. Their mouths lock together, slowly enough that the movement doesn’t disturb their glasses. He can’t see her, and with the cacophony going on all around them, he can barely hear her either, barely hear her quiet mewls and hitches of breath. But he can feel her fingers curl in his hair, feel her body press closer. A hand lands on his thigh. And he can feel her warmth.

When his head draws back slightly, his lips tingle. Hers remain puckered.

“I suppose it’s not too bad being here after all,” he remarks quietly. To think he would be saying this in Yasuhiro Hagakure’s car. Or while surrounded by fevered idol fans. But Touko has always been an anomaly. When others defy him, his spit becomes acid. Yet when she stands her ground, he places his feet by hers. “Though I’m surprised you accepted a lift from Hagakure this morning. I thought Naegi and I were the only guys you felt comfortable being in a car alone with.”

“That’s still true...” Touko squirms a bit. “I would have declined if he hadn’t said he was giving you a lift because your car wouldn’t start.”

That makes Byakuya flinch.

“Byakuya-sama?” she says, confused.

“That can’t be right,” he tells her. “Hagakure stumbled upon me when my car was refusing to start. Then after I got in the car, he said he was on his way to collect you...”

Byakuya looks away from her, as if expecting the car’s interior to grow teeth and crush them. For a trap, any trap, to be revealed. Instead, he spots Yasuhiro, whose grinning face is pressed against the window. Soon after, Touko notices him too and shrieks. Yasuhiro jolts back with a scream.

“Hagakure!” Byakuya seethes while Touko disentangles herself from him. Both are equally flustered. He could ask Yasuhiro how long he was there for, but right now he’d rather not know. “Explain yourself. How were you able to tell Fukawa you were giving me a lift to work this morning before I told you that my car had broken down?”

“I... um...” Yasuhiro tries to smile again. “I have good intuition?”

“I will phone your mother in precisely three seconds if you don’t explain yourself.”

“No! Anything but that!” Yasuhiro squeezes his hands together, trembling. “Okay, so I might have loosened the battery terminal before you went out this morning... but I did so with good intentions! You and Fukawa-chi were about to get together and kiss just now, ‘right? I’m doing you a favour.”

Byakuya stares at him, wide-eyed. A few seconds later, his brow furrows.

“Idiot,” he says. “We’ve been dating for five months.”

Yasuhiro’s head jerks back. “Huh?”

Touko’s initial shock at seeing him quickly melts. She shoots a fiery glare his way.

“W-Weren’t you paying attention when Byakuya-sama announced our new relationship status at lunch five months ago?” she asks.

“I think I was going through a phase with a certain mobile game and must have missed him saying it,” says Yasuhiro, scratching his head. 

“We’ve held hands on multiple occasions,” says Byakuya. “We’ve kissed in your presence.”

Yasuhiro clicks his fingers.

“Oh yeah. That’s right, I remember now. Well, anyway, I brought lunch.” He tries to open the door. “Can you let me back in please?”

“No,” says Byakuya. “You wanted us to be alone in here, so we’ll give you your wish.”

“And we don’t need any of your shitty food either. We h-have the lunch I made for myself and Byakuya-sama to enjoy,” adds Touko.

“Hey, I put a lot of effort into setting this all up!” Yasuhiro shoves his paper bag containing fast food against the car window. “I had to prove my loyalty to the Official Sayakers Fan Club by buying a year's membership, then I had to get a tattoo on my butt before they’d hear my idea out on their reddit. Also, it’s my car!”

Only Yasuhiro would think that would endear himself to anyone in any way. Byakuya wishes he was in the driver’s seat so he could run Yasuhiro over. Except there’s too much traffic to move the car even if he wanted to. Traffic that Yasuhiro created with his pointless scheme.

“Scram!” says Byakuya.

“Ignore him, darling.” Touko touches a hand to his cheek and turns his head toward her. “Or would it help if I distracted you?”

Before he can think of a reply, her lips soar up and latch onto his. A shiver washes through Byakuya, tingling in his extremities. He’s fully aware that Yasuhiro can see them, and though Yasuhiro has seen them kiss before, this feels different somehow. Like being in this enclosed space means what they’re doing should be totally private. Yet when she pushes him onto his back and lies on top of him, he has no desire to break free. And when her tongue kneads at the divide between his lips, he grabs her behind with one hand and opens his mouth.

If Yasuhiro likes movies so much, Byakuya will give him a full goddamn performance.

“No! Please!” Yasuhiro bangs on the window. “Not on the seats! I only just got them cleaned from when I tried this with Naegi-chi and Kirigiri-chi last week!”