#I;M NOT. PUTTING THE BREAD STICK DOWN **NO**

[shuicheese]

What exactly is mayonnaise?

the best instrument out there AND my personal favourite condiment that goes well with breadsticks~

it tastes like cheese cream and breadsticks, it's not disgusting >:(

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)

thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’

“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”

connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.

you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.

your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’

you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.

“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.

“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.

you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.

“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.

you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”

your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”

with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”

connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”

you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”

connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”

a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”

connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”

“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.

“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.

“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.

connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”

“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.

“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.

you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”

connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”

you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.

“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”

“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”

suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”

more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“

“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”

it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“

“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.

“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.

“dio mio.”

[peachysunrize]

Lemon Tart ⥃ Prince! Aemond (p.1)

Summary: after six years of searching for his lover, Aemond comes across her bakery in Flea Bottom with his betrothed.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, royalty x commoner, infidelity, Alicent’s a bit more uptight here, angst angst angst, oral (M! Receiving), mentions of war, they lost their virginity at 16, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.2k

a/n: hi!! I had to re-edit this and post it, I just had to lol. But given the circumstances, I hope you’ll ignore this if it isn’t your cup of tea. Do not make fun of my english please I’m not a native speaker🩷 reblog and comments are most appreciated<3

Shoutout to my girl, @namelesslosers , for beta reading my work🥹🫂

It disgusted Aemond to no end that King’s Landing’s streets smelt this horrible, and having his betrothed by his side, walking among the commoners only added to his unmanageable frustration.

Cassandra Baratheon was as tolerating as a Baratheon could be; exceptionally loud and obnoxious, clingy and always cheerful, and totally the opposite of Aemond. And when she set her mind on something, there was no way she would accept anything but whatever she desired.

That’s why Aemond found himself glaring at anyone who dared cross their path. He had to put up with his betrothed obsession as she stopped at every shop she could find, buying unnecessary things to waste his money on and be happy so he could do his duty without her nose sticking into his business.

He was cautious as they neared a bakery in the dark corner of the alley. Guardsmen were ready to slaughter whoever they thought was a threat to Prince and his beloved wife-to-be.

Cassandra approached the shop, looking at different pastries, cakes, loaves of bread, and little desserts that were freshly baked. 

“Aemond we have to buy some!” She whined like she always did when she wanted something. And he was sick of hearing that damned nose again for the millionth time that day.

“Of course,” he replied coldly. He gave her another bag of gold and ushered her closer to the bakery. He watched as people left the bakery as soon as they got closer, afraid of the One-eyed prince.

Cassandra stood behind the stool, watching as the baker – you –  ran around the little shop with haste to get every order done. She cleared her throat, head held high as she glared at your back for not answering her.

“When a Princess is standing in your presence, you will bow and do as she says,” she whines again, trying to push past the wooden stool to get into your shop.

“You are yet to be a princess,” Aemond caught her arm, pulling her back harshly as he kept his face emotionless.

You froze, turning towards the royal couple standing in front of your bakery. The white hair, violet eye, and leather eyepatch; you remembered him so well. Every second you had spent together was playing in front of you, and all of a sudden you felt as if the walls of the bakery were falling on you, but you had to appear strong, after all, you left everything behind and moved on.

“My prince,” you said with a shaky voice, “My lady, how may I help you on this fine morning?” You smiled at them, swallowing harshly as you tried to avoid Aemond’s gaze as he stared at you.

Maybe he didn’t remember you, but how much a person could change in six years? You looked the same, a bit more mature. You could see how he was fighting the urge to keep staring at you and figuring you out. You prayed to the old gods that he didn’t recognize you, you were nowhere ready to experience his famous wrath and cruelty.

“Finally,” The lady huffed, “a loaf of your freshest bread and three strawberry cakes. They look delicious, don’t they, Aem?”

Your heart dropped when you heard her calling him by the nickname he only allowed you to call him. Maybe they were closer than you thought, but at that moment Aemond proved you wrong.

“Don’t ever call me that again, do you understand?” He warned her, his eye boring into hers as he frowned down at her. She nodded immediately, looking at her joined hands in front of her.

“Anything for you, my prince?” Finally, you regarded him. You couldn’t breathe when his eye locked with yours. You didn’t know how to feel, fear? Yearning? Pain? Love? You just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. His gaze was intense like it had always been – since his childhood to now, he liked to look through everything and everyone, and then, he wanted to figure you out.

You wished for nothing but to melt away from his heated gaze as you waited for him to reply. He still had that effect on you which you became easily flustered around him, and it gave him a sense of power he had always craved.

“Lemon tart,”

You nodded and turned around quickly, not wishing to look upon his face anymore. He remembered everything, and he showed it with two simple words. You wanted to sob right there, but you had a job, and angering the prince of the realm and his future lady wife would be the last thing you needed.

You massaged your neck slowly as you walked to where you kept the sweets and cakes. The lady’s order was ready and you went to grab the latest lemon tart you had baked; lemon tart with sugar powder on top and slices of lemon and different berries – just how he liked. You could remember exactly from the day you opened your bakery this particular dessert was everyone’s favorite, and whenever you baked, it reminded you of how he would assist you.

Shaking your head to get rid of the beautiful memories, you put the cake inside the box and handed them all to the guards that were standing there.

“Is there anything else that you wish for?” you asked politely, looking at Cassandra, not Aemond.

“No,” He said curtly, grabbing the bag of gold from his betrothed and dropping it on the stool in front of you before he turned his back and left without another word being said. You thanked him quietly, watching him distance himself.

Why did it hurt to watch him leave? It shouldn't have hurt you at least, because you did the same thing, but never allowed him to watch you leave. You were just…gone from his life one day and he couldn’t do anything. Perhaps the gods deemed fit to punish you for your past actions, and years ago you had made your peace with it. But why did it feel like an arrow to your chest as you stared at his white hair that fell around his shoulders like moonlight waterfalls?

  —-------

  A few weeks passed and every day a royal guard would come to your bakery to order a lemon tart for his highness. You felt dreadful when you had to pack yet another box for The prince and all whilst you had to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

You didn’t get a blink of sleep because your mind was too occupied with Aemond Targaryen. You spent days crying and begging for the gods to take your life over the past six years but they didn’t. You were sure they wanted to see how you’d crumble to your feet and about the one that got away. The taste of happiness had been long gone from your life ever since you were forced to leave the castle; you had left your two loved ones behind.

One evening, you closed the bakery sooner, even though the guard didn’t come that day. The orange lights of the fireplace gave some sort of life to the dull room with all the scented candles you had lightened a few minutes ago.

A knock on your door brought you out of your train of thought. You were basically lonely in this neighborhood, just a few older shopkeepers who worked nearby, even your regular customers didn’t know you lived upstairs.

Aemond Targaryen was standing outside your door, with a brown bag in his hand. 

“My Prince, I-” You didn’t know how to react. You were confused, shocked, and a little flustered. 

“Can I come in?” He asked for permission, looking over your shoulder to see your home.

“Yes, oh, sure,” You stood aside, opening the door for him to walk in.

He was silent as he observed his surroundings. Your home was welcoming even though it was much smaller than his chambers, it still felt livelier than anywhere he had set foot in.

“I beg your pardon, this is not a place befitting you, my prince-”

“Nonsense, this is quite alright,” he replied hurriedly. 

He was anxious; the feared one-eyed prince was anxious about meeting his past friend – lover – and he couldn’t hide it. When he was near her, his emotions were all over the place. It felt right to tell her everything, he felt safe with her even after being apart for years.

“How can I help you then, my prince?” you asked, biting your lip in anticipation.

You couldn’t see his face, but you were aware of how tense his shoulders would get whenever you called him by his title. He had never been the prince for you, even when you were kids.

“Stop,” he inhaled, “stop calling me that.”

“I can’t, my price-”

“Yes, you can!” suddenly he raised his voice, making you flinch away from him, “Aemond is fine.” he continued with a hushed voice after how you retreated from him.

“I brought a few things,” He handed you the bag, finally having time to look at you thoroughly; your hair was down, you were wearing a simple loose dress that fell on your knees, and you were bare feet. You looked just as he remembered, so simple and gentle as if the gods had made you for him. Back then he thought you were sent from heaven, and now you looked even more beautiful with how mature you had grown.

“Eggs and milk?” you smiled at him, hesitant to know the reason.

“I thought perhaps we could bake a lemon tart together.” His words were rushed. He was scared of your rejection and you caught on to it quickly.

“Sure,” you replied, walking towards the little kitchen you had, “I know there isn’t much space…”

“It is enough for both of us,” 

“Alright, then let’s start, Aemond.”

You missed the weight of his name on your tongue, how you used to say it with joy and laughter, how you used to moan in it when your bodies molded together perfectly. And he missed hearing it from you. His name never felt the same after you left, not even when his sister said it.

You both started working in sync like old times when you’d sneak him into the castle’s kitchen and teach him how to bake different breads and pastries but Lemon tart was always his favorite — you had brought a piece of it for him after he lost his eye.

He remembered how you both would mess up the large kitchen at midnight with flour and fruit juices as you started baking together ever since the incident. Every night he’d meet you in the hallway near the maids’ rooms and you tiptoe towards the kitchen while giggling all the way.

You made him smile even at his lowest.

You started with pouring the milk and him taking care of the eggs, your bodies close to each other after years of running towards each other without ever reaching the destination.

You watched as he took off his leather coat and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing the flour he had found in one of your cabinets. You mixed as you observed his hands; rough cuts of sword swinging and dragon riding on them, and you saw the little mark of the place he had burnt himself while you were in the kitchen together.

You felt the heat of his body on your back while you were mixing the ingredients. He was close, so close that his hot breath was on your neck, his hands caging your body as soon as you tried to move away from him. He came there with purpose, and he wouldn’t back down until he got what he needed.

“Aemond,”

He quickly retreated from you, snatching the bowl out of your hands. You walked to the fireplace immediately, not daring to look at him. Both of you were on edge, you desired the closeness but the fear pushed everything down the cliff. You knew he wasn’t there just for a lemon tart, he was there for answers that you had buried deep down.

You had no idea how long it passed while you stared at the flames, but it had to be a solid two hours of silence when he came back with two plates and a lemon tart with sugar powder and chopped fruits on top – just how he liked it.

You put a piece on his plate and sat down as you stared at the tart in yours. It had been so long since you had been with him in a room, or baked with him. It felt strange yet so nostalgic. He sat next to you as he ate in silence, not once meeting your eyes but you knew his eyes were scanning you from head to toe. 

The first bite melted on your tongue, the sweet and sour flavors were always your favorite combinations. You smiled, remembering how much Aemond loved to add more lemon to the mix just to see how your face scrunched as you ate it. 

“It tastes delicious. Thank you,” you said, finally looking up from your plate to see him already looking at you with wide eyes.

He was always hard to read with all the walls he had built around himself. There were rare occasions that he’d smile or even laugh when you were around after the loss of his eyes. Eventually, he grew more comfortable around you, sometimes the little Aemond joked and tried to make you laugh.

He was a prince, and you were a maid’s daughter; you couldn’t be seen with each other, hence the reputation he had to uphold because of his title. At that time when you were both eleven, you found it funny how he couldn’t join you for meals, or how he talked when he was with his grandsire.

But as you grew up, the feelings that had been planted since your childhood bloomed and they became complicated and hard to ignore. You watched him in balls and gatherings on the king’s behalf, he dressed so well and you found your eyes following his every move. He danced with highborn ladies, who he told you were forced to do so, and you just stood in the corner of the hall. 

Your worlds were so different, he had a bright future ahead of him with his future lady wife and you? You had no idea what you wanted to do.

“Do you still bake in the castle?” You asked with a hushed voice.

“No,” it was curt, and you nodded your head in acknowledgment. After all, it wasn’t easy to talk about this particular issue.

“I am not keen on wasting my time, but I have a question that has been left unanswered for six fucking years.”

Aemond Targaryen was a man of honor and dignity. He held his chin high and burnt everyone by looking at them like the dragon he truly was — and he never cussed. Your eyes widened at how miserable he looked.

“Why did you leave?” His eye bore into yours as he glared at you. 

You were scared, you wanted to run away again, and you did — you stood up and tried to walk to the kitchen, but Aemond was fast on his feet and grabbed your elbow before you could make it past him.

“Don’t,” he warned you, and you had no choice but to oblige as he pointed at your bed in the corner of the room.

“Sit and give me an explanation for keeping me in the dark for six years.” He stood in front of you, holding his hands behind his back.

“Why did you leave?”

Your eyes watered, you couldn’t even form a word as you remembered how you left him. But he was in your house again, perhaps it could be your last chance to show him how much you loved him by explaining everything about your departure.

  ~ It happened so fast, Queen Alicent had come to the maids’ area with Ser Cole on the toe as they searched for her son who had missed breakfast. If it wasn’t for the girls who had talked about the noises they heard last night, she wouldn’t be able to find him.

She didn’t need to ask anyone to know which maid she should search for. She knew you and his son were friends, and as much as she disapproved you made Aemond happy, by just being his friend and nothing more. 

You were awake, doing your morning duties in the kitchen. You hummed and baked the sweets Princess Heleana asked you to while you thought about your night with the prince. You smiled to yourself sheepishly remembering he was still sleeping naked in your not-so-comfortable bed. The night was full of intimate moments, and he took his time with you; memorizing every curve of your body, every scratch. He kissed your scars and caressed the soft skin of your hips as he desired.

Sixteen and in love, what a blissful life.

Queen Alicent interrupted your daydreaming when she appeared in the kitchen, demanding the other maids to leave you alone. All the girls rushed out without glancing your way, too scared to even breathe as they filled out the kitchen.

You bowed, keeping your gaze on your feet as she glanced around herself. Never did you think you would see the queen in the kitchen, but there you were, and it could only mean one thing.

“Losing your virtue to the prince of the realm must be your highest achievement, Y/N.” Your heart dropped, sweat beading on your palms as you kept your head bowed down. You were caught, and all the punishment and consequences of your teenage sins would fall upon you — after all, no one dared to say an ill word towards Aemond Targaryen under his mother’s watch.

“At least now you can keep your mouth shut,” she sighed, pacing with her hands behind her back, “your lewd sounds were heard by the other girls. I know my son, he wouldn’t stoop this low to warm a maid’s bed. How did you trick him into this?”

You didn’t — couldn’t — say a word. Your mind was blank, the queen’s harsh words cut deep and you took the blow every time she spoke. She shouldn’t know it was Aemond’s idea, even if you told her, she wouldn’t believe you. 

“Look at me,” she grabbed your chin, yanking your face upwards with her fingers digging into your cheeks. Tears streamed down your face as you looked into Alicent’s eyes. 

“I love him,”

A simple confession that led you and Aemond to the current situation. He was the one to barge into your room and said those three words, and you followed him. He was your childhood friend, your baking partner, and he became your lover last night.

“Oh, so you love him. Well, if you truly love my son, you will leave the castle and stay as far away as you can from him. He has a future ahead of him, a duty to fulfill and you only drag him down to the mud with your filthy hands.”

She looked into your teary eyes, no sympathy in her voice as she gestured to Cole to escort you to your room. You couldn’t defend yourself, you were no one in her eyes, or anyone for that matter. Your only solace was Aemond, not the passionate lover nor the prince, just your friend, and then you were leaving him.

Cole waited outside as you gathered your clothes and found a little bag you found under the same bed Aemond was sleeping on. Quietly, you walked towards him, pushing a few of the strands of his hair out of his face. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. You pressed one last peck on his forehead and scar before you left him for good.~

Aemond stood in front of your bed, watching you sob as you told him what had truly happened that day. His face was emotionless, but you were good at reading him ever since you had spent nearly every day together. He clenched his fist, taking a shaky breath in while he listened to you.

Everything started to make sense when he was reminded of his mother’s words after he left your room to find you but he saw The Queen in the kitchen. She told him you left him with no remorse, you just took what you wanted from your Targaryen prince and left the castle wishing for his child to take — and he believed it.

But there you were; sitting on your bed, body shaking with sobs and tears, and no sign of a child around you. He had been fooled for years. He had been searching the entire city and couldn’t find you because of his mother and the City Watch.

He knelt on the floor, his eye telling you every word he couldn’t utter. You knew him like the back of your hand; he wasn’t good with words, and he was in disbelief at what you had told him.

You did what you had wanted to do for so long; you fell limp into his arms, hugging him close as your sobbing grew louder. The smell of sandalwood and leather was calming, the scent was a nice reminder of what it felt like to be close to him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, pulling your body impossibly close to his. He had to remind himself it was real that you were with him again and the agony of not seeing you was over.

He kissed your exposed shoulder like he always did when he tried to calm you down, and you melted within his arms. None of you dared to say a word, too afraid of breaking this blissful spell you had created. 

You pulled back a little to take a good look at his handsome face. His jaw had become a bit sharper, he looked more mature and gorgeous than you remembered. He looked like those princes from fantasy books who’d save you from a curse just by kissing you.

At that moment, all you wanted was to taste him. And taste him you did.

He met you halfway, his lips touching yours slowly. You moved together, chasing each other’s taste as you poured all the unsaid words into the kiss. The sugary taste of the desert you had was a cherry on top when his tongue met yours.

There was no rush, but the amount of lost time made you both hungry for each other.

You pulled his clothes off, latching your lips to his exposed neck. Aemond couldn’t care less about his betrothed, he had you in his arms, and being in an arranged engagement with the woman he had no feelings for was the last of his worries.

He stripped you out of your dress, his fingers brushing over your hardened nipples. He missed the way you sighed when you were content, and he wanted to make sure that he would create a wonderful night for you.

He sat on the bed with you straddling him, whimpering when you grind yourself down on his bulge. You kissed down his neck while he was kneading your breasts, pinching and squeezing the soft flesh here and there.

“Lay down, Aem.” You commanded gently, pushing him on his back while you sat on your knees between his legs, “I have a lot to make up for.”

His breathing became irregular as you kissed down his chest, hands roaming his toned body as you made your way down to his pants. You undid the laces and pulled the fabric down. He helped you take them off completely, leaving him fully naked to your lustful gaze.

His cock was already aching hard and you didn’t waste any more time before you grabbed him in your hands, stroking him gently. He looked at you through his hooded eye, watching you closely when you wrapped your lips around the tip. His head fell back on your pillow when you sucked on it a little. 

It had been so long for both of you to be intimate with someone else that it left you both impatient and needy for more.

You twirled your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your hot mouth. He was breathless already, and he was having a very hard time not unleashing the beast and taking you as he desired. So before his self-control vanished, he pulled you up and smashed his lips to yours. He couldn’t take it anymore, he would go insane if he wasn’t inside you for a second longer. 

You took your underwear off, feeling the wetness of your cunt dripping down your inner thighs a bit. Aemond helped you straddle him again with his hands guiding your hips back and forth on his cock as you rubbed your needy pussy on him.

You moaned — that sweet sound that he would burn the world for just to hear again. You kept yourself up by your hands on his chest as he helped you sit down on his cock, pushing him inside your welcoming hole with a whine.

You leaned down, pushing his eyepatch out of his face slowly, giving him enough time to stop you — but he never did. You looked at the scar that brought you to him, the sapphire that filled the socket glinted and you couldn’t help but press your lips to his eyelids as carefully as you could. He looked fragile beneath you, and you wanted to reassure him, to make him feel safe and wanted and loved again.

He stretched you out and filled you up perfectly. There was no pain, just a slight discomfort at first as you grew used to his size. Meanwhile, he thought he had died and he was in heaven. He had you on top of him — naked in all your glory — with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“I missed you, Aem.” It came out as another moan when you rolled your hips.

You rode him for long minutes, kissed, and spent time in each other’s arms as he gave you the pleasure you craved for so long. 

Aemond took you in different positions, he made love to you, fucked you at some point, and let you take control when he wanted to just worship your body. He would kiss wherever his lips could reach, and with each press on your skin, you felt fireworks throughout your body.

Your bodies molded together as you both came together; a long, heartwarming, and overwhelming release that you had been pathetically desiring for years.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t notice when he cleaned both of you and laid next to you on your bed. There wasn’t much space for both of you, so Aemond laid you on his chest as he snuggled closer to you. He breathed you in, wishing for this moment to last until his last day alive.

You fell asleep immediately, and you hadn’t been able to do so because it was always him who pulled you into a deep slumber. 

He felt safe enough to whisper his devotion into your ear while you slept in his arms. He hoped he could run away from the war and take you away on the dragon's back. He wanted to spend his days with you by his side, but he thanked the gods for this night even though he had not thought about what would be happening at dawn.

  —————

  The sun rose, and the first rays of sunshine hit Aemond’s face. He stirred a little, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he tried to fall asleep again. He didn’t want his time to end with you this soon before he was forced back to put on the mask again. 

The sound of horses and a carriage approaching the bakery was enough to put him on edge. He gently let go of you, pulling the covers over your body before he put on his eyepatch, white undershirt, and pants. He didn’t care if any of the commoners saw him there, after all, he would visit the neighborhood more often from now on.

He came downstairs, his eyes meeting his mother’s eyes as soon as she stood in front of the bakery. How did she know you were there, moreover, how did she know he was there?

“Your future wife has a large mouth, son,” Alicent said, watching his every move.

“What do you want?”

He tried to control his temper when his mother chuckled at his little burst of anger.

“Why her?” She asked.

“Because she makes me feel loved.” 

His answer was simple, and it made sense to the queen why he would choose you out of everyone. She remembered how you were always around Aemond when he was alone, you helped him with almost everything and never humiliated him, unlike his cousins and brother.

“She has to leave, Aemond—“

“You are not taking her away from me again!” He raised his voice, “Not when I have found the only source of the light in my miserable life. You will not sink your claws in her again, I will never allow you to ruin our chances of happiness.”

“We are at war, and you are promised to Lady Baratheon—“

“I do not care less about the names and titles,” he sighed, “not when she is who I have loved unconditionally for my whole life.”

Alicent walked closer to him until she could cuo his face.

“In the depth of war, love does not win, son. It is logic and pain and suffering that will bring us victory. We cannot fight against the wrath of Lord Baratheon when he hears of your affair.”

He was about to answer when you interrupted them.

“Her majesty is right, Aem.” You sounded so defeated and defenseless.

They both looked at you and for the second time in the time you had known Aemond, you saw him shed a tear. 

Queen Alicent stood back, giving you enough space to talk to him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

“I have to leave, for the safety of our love.” You said, pecking his lips gently. He kissed back immediately, giving you a final kiss before you vanished from his life again.

“Avy jorrāelan,” I love you.

“I love you, too, Aem. I love you so much.” You kissed him again hurriedly, and he kept you close, not wanting to let you go.

“I hope your seed takes this time so I can have you with myself wherever I go,” you whispered in his ear, “come find us after the war, so we can bake lemon tarts for our silver-haired kids.”

You broke apart and followed Ser Cole to the carriage they had prepared for you after you bowed to the queen.

You left him again with an oath he had to fulfill; he would come to find you when the time was right.

[miirohs]

a little sugar and spice [v.s.s]

pairing: OPLA!Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader wc: 0.7k cw: n/a an: *in dj kahled voice* another one- also i started reading the manga! this was lowkey inspired by this one reel i saw in a series called cheese church- chessus bless guys!

"Finally awake?"

Sanji stood there, towel thrown over his shoulder as he mixed something, pausing for a moment to look at you.

There was a brief silence, in which you coughed, trying to fish a response out.

"Did i fall asleep here again?" You groaned, the sticky feeling of the leather ever present as you pulled yourself up sluggishly.

"You did, i'm not complaining. I got a lot-" He pointed to the chopped vegetables sitting to the side, "-of meal prepping done. It's just as quick as i remember it being."

"Speaking of which, when did i fall asleep? The last thing i remember was coming in here for something," You muttered, trying to recall any more you could.

"Nothing much. You came in here for a glass of water, and eventually you fell asleep on the couch," He said, smiling widely, "you tried to help me with the pastries i was making too, but you kept messing with the batter."

You shrugged, getting up and stretching.

"You want something to eat?" He asked, wiping his hands on the towel, "You haven't had anything since yesterday." Before you could protest, he gave you a pointed look, "And don't you try to protest love. As i recall, you drank the entire bar dry last night and started professing your love for m-"

"Shut up," You flushed, mouth opening and closing as he gave you a victorious smirk.

"Still, you know i'm not wrong." "Why you.... you know what? I'm not sure you'd be able to make what i want," You said, sticking your tongue out at him, "i'm very choosy about what i eat."

He gave you a deadpan look, rolling his eyes, "What? Fancying yourself a picky eater today love? I assure you, i can make anything you can imagine."

You thought long and hard, biting your lip before it hit you.

"I want a grilled cheese."

"A grilled cheese?" He let out a little laugh, putting down his knife, "Are you sure thats all?"

"Yes. That's all i want. A grilled cheese," You said, slamming your hands down on table, eyeing him up and down. "If you don't make it, you're not man enough-"

"Challenge accepted," He said, quickly putting away his other tools, "I'm assuming you know where the cheese is. Go get it-"

"Already on it," You said plainly, opening up the cabinet. Among various bottles and boxes, there sat a wrapped block in the back, wrapped with twine.

"Found something!" You pulled it out, coughing as he took it from your hands. Unwrapping it, he whistled, showing the block of cheese to you.

"Mold. I wonder how long it's been back there." He said, and you groaned, seatings yourself on the island in front of him. "Aw bummer, what are you gonna do now?"

Sanji chuckled, placing the block on the counter, "You know we never waste any food love, so now we just salvage it as best we can."

Within minutes, the sizzling of the bread filled the kitchen, and the aroma of melting butter and toasting bread wafted through the air. Sanji's concentration was evident as he flipped the sandwich with precision, ensuring it was golden brown on both sides.

As you reached for the cheese, he swat your hand away, shooing you off the counter.

"Sit down, you need to be more patient cause perfection doesn't rush itself." You huffed, sitting back down at the island, tracing the pattern of the counter.

The sound of ceramics being placed on the counter made you look up, grilled cheese and a mini green cake looking right at you.

"There you go, love. One grilled cheese, as you asked!"

"Mmm, this is amazing, Sanji," you exclaimed, stuffing the food in your mouth, "You really outdid yourself with this one."

Sanji's seemed satisfied as he watched you enjoy the sandwich, retreating to get something from the back.

"I'm glad you like it, love. By the way-" He returned, smaller plate in hand, "- i have something for you to try."

You didn't respond, looking at the mini cake he handed you.

"I'm guessing you're wondering what that is?" He said, and you nodded.

"It's a mini matcha cheesecake. You should try it," He urged you, and you obliged, taking a bite.

"Hmm. It's good..." You replied, wrinkling your nose.

"You're not telling me something," He said,

You glanced at Sanji, "Well, it's good, but it's missing something."

Sanji arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Missing something, you say? What could possibly be missing?"

"Sugar," You replied.

Sanji's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Sugar? You think my cheesecake needs more sugar?"

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. "Definitely. It's got that nice matcha bitterness, but it needs a little sweetness to balance it out."

Sanji gave you a smile, clearly enjoying the banter. "Sugar would throw off the delicate flavor balance, but let's see if I can meet your sugar quota."

With a flourish, he reached for a small jar of powdered sugar and lightly dusted the cheesecake with it. "Now, give it another try," Sanji said, pushing the plate back to you.

You took another bite. "Mmm, that's much better," you declared with a satisfied smile.

"I guess i just didn't use as much sugar as i usually would, since you're so sweet."

"Don't forget i've got a bit of spice in me too," You rolled your eyes, leaning in closer.

"Indeed," He muttered, sealing the distance between the both of you, kisses tasting with the faintest hint of some kind of sweetness unknown to you.

"Hey Sanji I thought i smelled something really good cooking and- Oh!" You both tore away from each other, Luffy watching you as Zoro stood behind him, annoyance scribbled all over his features.

"First thing i see this morning-"

You hopped off the counter, blowing Sanji a kiss as you ran from the kitchen. Your departure was followed by an angry rupture and laughter, resounding loudly through the halls.

"Wait- You idiot why would you do that?!"

"Well i wasn't the one initiating PDA this early in the morning!"

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

lover, you should've come over - m. schmidt

a/n: you guys should have seen this one coming! as always i appreciate any likes and reblogs and hope you enjoy :) warnings: suggestive themes, big angst, lots of talk about tattoos and pain and needles, mike having horrible anxiety and commitment issues, reader is mostly gender neutral except for one thing ! tattoo aftercare, hurt/comfort, kissing word count: 3.6k summary: you get a tattoo, and it terrifies mike. mostly because he realizes how much you love him. pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader now playing: lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley "my body turns and yearns/for a sleep that won't ever come/it's never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder."

Penny has done almost all of your tattoos, save for the stick and poke star you gave yourself while you were way too high to be handling that sort of equipment, and a few flash designs you’ve gotten for holidays. And usually, you keep it simple and easy, pitching a design idea and getting a finished stencil a few hours later.

But this time, you go into the shop a few months before you plan to get the tattoo and describe to her what you want. She’s shocked that you want a half sleeve—It’s a big step, she tells you, and it’ll mean sitting for a few hours while she does her work. It’ll be painful, and the design will take a few weeks to get made, because she wants to give you the best possible design.

She does good work. When you visit again in about three weeks, you put down a deposit and make an official date to get it done. October 9th.

You go home that night to your small, but warm home to find your boyfriend trying to make chicken parm. His goal all year has been to learn how to cook, not just to make things out of a box. You know a bit better how to cook, but you let him improve his skills, always providing helpful, gentle critiques.

Abby is worse at being gentle.

She’s brutal with her brother’s cooking, and even though Mike loves your gentle words, he appreciates Abby’s feedback, and just wants her to eat a full plate of food before bed each night.

Tonight, his food smells good. You mentioned about a month ago how you missed your mom’s chicken parm, and since then, he’s been reading and researching different recipes at work. Ever since he quit working at Freddy’s, he’s put down the book of dreams and has picked up cookbooks, working his way up slowly.

You tell him he’ll be making Thanksgiving Dinner in no time. You kiss his jaw when you say that, and later, he returns the favor by placing a kiss to your shoulder.

You go to him, standing in the kitchen, as he squints at the recipe book in front of him. He wears washed blue jeans, an old Foo Fighters tee shirt and a pair of blue fuzzy socks. A towel hangs over his shoulder as he mutters to himself, as he gets ready to put some garlic bread in the oven.

You’re still in your work clothes, though, it’s not as if you’re wearing anything fancy. Just a different pair of jeans, and a tee shirt with your shop’s logo on it. Your hair is messy, and you smell vaguely of dirt. The smell has become comforting to him in his time knowing you.

You step closer to him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. He relaxes at your touch.

“Hey, Mike.” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, how was your day?”

“Not too bad. The food smells pretty good.”

“You think so?” His voice is hopeful, especially since he’s trying to live up to your memories of the dish as a kid. It’s his way of thanking you for being so good to him while he’s gotten his shit together.

“Mhm. I’m gonna go wash up and have Abby help me set the table.” You tell him. You kiss his jaw quickly before heading off to the bathroom to scrub the dirt from beneath your fingernails. You wash your face and arms too and begin to realize how domestic this all is.

You never saw yourself having kids, and never thought of yourself dating someone who did.

And you still never think about having kids, but you did find yourself treating Abby as if she is your own. This has nothing to do with how much you adore her brother. Abby is just easy to love. You wonder if anyone’s ever told her that.

When your work boots find themselves at the end of your bed, you change into a muscle tee. You’re awfully fond of them. You find a pair of Mike’s fuzzy socks and slip them on too. You take a moment to stare at your shoulder in the mirror, imagining how it’ll look when ink covers it. Most of your tattoos are on your legs, and for a long time, this arm has been bare of any ink. You’ve been saving it for this project for years.

You go to Abby’s room and knock gently before entering. You find her painting at this aisle you got for her birthday. She’s been working on this painting for a few days now, and it’s turning out quite nice.

“Hey, Abs.” You say softly, and she puts her paintbrush down to give you this big, toothy grin. “Go wash up and help me set the table?” You ask.

“Sure.” She hums and starts to skip along to the bathroom, but you stop her at the door.

“And remember, even if Mike’s food is bad, what do we say?”

“Mm, this food is so good and not horrible at all!”

“Abby.”

She sighs.

“This is unlike anything you’ve made before, and I appreciate the effort?”

“That’s it.” You let her go wash up, and then go to set the table.

When Mike eventually serves dinner, you’re starved. You don’t care if it’s bad, or if it’s burnt, you know you’ll like it because you weren’t able to take a lunch break that day. But it genuinely looks good.

He cuts up Abby’s food and puts the plate in front of her before sitting down and looking to you two for a reaction. You take a bite, and you have to pause.

Did Mike really cook something not just edible, but… good?

Not fine, not decent, really good.

“Mike, this is—”

“Amazing!” Abby gasps, going in for another bite. His cheeks flush.

“You guys don’t have to pretend, it’s alright—”

“No, Mike, we’re not pretending, it’s really good!” You defend, going in for a second bite yourself. “Try it!”

He does, and he even looks shocked at the quality of the food he’s produced. And it sets the mood for the whole dinner, until you eventually blurt out,

“I booked a tattoo appointment for next week.”

“What are you getting?” Mike can’t ever admit this to you, but he adores your tattoos. He thinks the placement of them are all wonderful, even if they’re smaller. He likes to kiss them, to trace his fingers over them, to just admire them in the summer.

“It’s a surprise.” You tell him. Owning your own shop and being your own boss has its perks. You have no worries about people judging you for your half sleeve, deciding that you can just ban them from your shop.

Your conversation drifts off and you focus on other things. When you’re done, you and Mike begin to clean up with him, letting some of the pan soak in the sink. You sit on the counter, drying some of the plates as Mike rinses.

“Thank you for dinner.” You tell him.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Comfortable silence fills the room. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” You smile softly. He dries his hand and steps between your legs. His hands land on either side of you, caging you in.

“Tease.” He mumbled, leaning forward, and kissing your shoulder. A hand goes to his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks.

“I’m not teasing, I’m just being a little secretive.” You tell him, playing with his hair. You’re a fan of the scruff he’s been growing out lately.

“Isn’t it gonna hurt?”

“Yeah, but I’ll take breaks and remember to eat.” You tell him. “This isn’t my first tattoo, Mike.”

“I know, baby.” He says softly, “I just get worried—”

“You get worried about me? And yet, when I’m worried about you, you ignore me but—” He cuts you off with a kiss, and your hands land on his jaw, the scruff tickling your face.

• • •

The ink swirls around your shoulder, a moth wrapping around your shoulder and reaching to the top of your arm. Vines wrap around the moth, as flowers bloom in different places. Your birth flower is one of them, as well as your mother’s. You also place Abby and Mike’s around the moth, maybe protecting it. Thorns poke out of some of the vines, and the ink covers your shoulder, and down to just above your elbow.

You got it done on a Saturday afternoon, leaving late enough so Mike could sleep in without having to deal with Abby, but being able to give them some time to relax together.

It takes a few hours, and by the end of it, you’re exhausted. As with all your other tattoos, you’re sore, but this is a new type of sore. You ache for Mike’s hands on you, to hold you and kiss your shoulders, even though he can’t kiss your left shoulder for a few days.

The second skin will remain on your arm for a day or two, and then you’ll have to go through the process of moisturizing your tattoo.

You have Penny take lots of photos of it before you head home, Mike and Abby both waiting in anticipation for you to come home and show them your new ink. You’re excited to show them, since there’s a connection to them in the art. 

When you open the door, Abby runs to you and immediately starts to look for the ink in question. She gasps when she sees it, all wrapped up on your arm.

“It’s a moth,” You tell her, “With my favorite plants.” You crouch down to point out different plans in the works. “These are my mom’s birth flowers, they’re carnations.” You tell her, “Do you know what these are?” You point to another flower.

Abby shakes her head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fresh, raw flesh of the person she considers to be her caregiver.

“They’re lily of the valley flowers. They’re your birth flower.” You reach out and tuck hair behind her ear. Then, you point to the third flower. “And these? They’re honey suckles. They’re Mike’s birth flower.”

Mike watches your interaction, listening to your explanation of the tattoo. Suddenly, this anxiety pools in his chest. You’ve been living together for a few months, but somehow a symbol of him and Abby being engraved on your skin makes things all too real.

He could cry.

“Did you get the flowers because you’re a flower person?” You grin, knowing she doesn’t remember the title of your job.

“Botanist, you mean? Sort of, but you two mean a lot to me, and I wanted to tribute something to you guys.” You confess.

She grins and turns to look at Mike.

“I wanna be a tattoo artist when I’m older.” Mike is pale with anxiety.

He wants to tell you it looks good, that it’s brilliantly done, but he doesn’t find it in himself. He wants to run, to abandon this relationship at the door, to never speak to you again to avoid the fact that he wants you desperately and thinks he might marry you one day.

He walks off to the bathroom, and he’s unsure if it’s to throw up or to cry.

You’re disappointed, because you wanted him to like it desperately, since this tattoo is now on you forever, and you wanted it to be a tribute to him. It almost hurts you that he doesn’t love it. Or at least pretend to. Instead, his disdain is visible on his face, and you do your best to turn your attention back to Abby.

“Wanna help me make dinner?” You smile softly, and she nods.

“Did your tattoo hurt?” She acts gently.

“Yeah, but with a good artist it goes quickly, and they don’t aim to torture you.” You explain, as you begin to make mac and cheese.

As she sets the table, you turn back to her and ask, “Can you go get Mike for dinner?” She nods and skips along to your bedroom, where Mike sits on the bed, frustrated with himself.

“Mike?” She asks gently. “We’re making mac and cheese.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says softly, and Abby can just tell something isn’t right.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel well..”

“Oh…” she suspects this is a lie.

“I’m sorry. Tell them I said sorry.” Tears prick Mike’s eyes. He’s unsure why he’s like this, and why he can’t just admire your tattoo and love you and tell you how much you mean to him. But he can’t. He gets the words out. He wants to love you so badly but something in him demands to not let him be happy.

He lays on the bed and tries to stay quiet as he cries.

• • •

Hours later, you sit at the table anxiously, your hands tapping on the wood, a cold bowl of Mac and Cheese on the table. You decide to get up to clean up dinner, and just as you do, soft steps creep out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

Mike stands and stares at the cold dinner that he feels bad for rejecting. He should just tell you what’s bothering him. Instead, his gaze turns and looks at you, doing the dishes.

“You didn’t have to make dinner.”

“You didn’t seem well, and Abby needed to eat.”

This comment sparks a much larger fire in Mike, and he isn’t sure why he’s angered by how much you care about his sister, his world.

“You aren’t her mom, you don’t have any reason to make her dinner or put her to bed—”

“Yeah, Mike, well, You’re not really her dad.” You glare. “I’ve taken care of her for months, fed her, made sure she’s taken care of, I’ve picked her up from school, and now suddenly, you’ve decided I have no right to just care about her? Fuck you, if you don’t love me anymore, then don’t take it out on your sister, talk to me like a god damn grown up and stop acting like a child.” You spit, angrily turning back around to keep doing your dishes so that Mike doesn’t see your red face or your tears.

With your back turned, he can see the moth on your shoulder blade, and he aches to trace the lines of your tattoos, kissing the skin around it. But cotton fills his mouth every time he tries to sew the gap between you two.

And your words strike him. He knows why you might think he doesn’t love you anymore, but he does. He loves you deeply and finds himself enamored with you, and yet he can’t even compliment this tattoo that you have obviously put a ton of time, effort and money into.

“I’m sorry—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I think we should give each other some space.” The words hit you like a ton of brick, and you’re ready to get on your hands and knees and beg him, beg him to not leave, beg him to forgive you (for what, you don’t know), beg him to touch you, beg him to want you.

“What..?”

“I just think I need some space.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You want to ask if he’s hungry, to kiss away all the sadness in the worry lines of his face.

You nod, bite your tongue. He wants to hold you and tell you he doesn’t mean it.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You mumble, sighing softly. You also plan to leave early before Mike gets up.

Mike steps towards you, maybe to apologize. You step past him to go get pajamas from your dresser, not letting him grasp onto you. You don’t want him to apologize now. You want him to sit in his regret and you want to sit in your anger.

As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you pray Abby didn’t hear your conversation with him.

Both of you try to drift to sleep and salt streams from your eyes and into your ears.

• • •

A few days pass. Your tattoo starts to heal, and you take the second skin off your shoulder and arm and begin the process of aftercare.

You and Mike exchanged a total of about thirty words over the next few days. Abby noticed your angst towards each other and tried to get the two of you to make up. She figured that Mike was being an idiot, and just needed to apologize.

She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that to his kid sister.

It’s hell. You have to pretend that you don’t want to beg for his forgiveness, but you know that neither of you are blameless. Your pride tells you not to be the first one to cave. His anxiety tells him that you hate him.

When he gets home one afternoon from work, you’re napping in bed. He knows the couch isn’t that comfortable and he’s sure you’re home because you’d mentioned to Abby that you weren’t feeling well. You probably didn’t expect to still be asleep when he got home.

But you’re wearing one of his shirts. He kisses your head and leaves a glass of water and cold medicine on the nightstand, before going to make himself busy somewhere else, as if not to disrupt your rest.

He takes one last glance at you before he leaves.

One night, he comes home from work late. You take it as an opportunity to take a hot shower after putting Abby to bed and taking a few minutes to sit in the bedroom that you missed while sleeping on the couch.

Besides, your bones ached from that uncomfortable couch while you were spoiled, used to Mike’s warm bed.

You barely hear the front door open as you continue your nightly routine. You need to apply lotion to your tattoo, to keep it moisturized as it heals. But you find yourself struggling to reach your shoulder.

Mike watches you from the doorway of the bedroom, biting his lip. The bags around his eyes have grown darker since your fight.

He takes off his boots first, and then strips his top down to an undershirt, then takes off his jeans. If you weren’t so busy, you’d acknowledge how handsome he looked in just his boxers and a gray tee shirt.

The bed dips behind you, as he sits behind you. You stop what you’re doing.

“Give me the lotion.” He says softly, and with a sigh of defeat, maybe even a bit of relief, you hand him the lotion. He squirts some lotion on his hands, then begins to rub it into your skin. You shudder at the contact, and he feels tears in his eyes again. He missed you. “I’m sorry I didn’t say I liked your tattoo. I love it.”

“I’m sorry I said you didn’t love me, and I’m sorry I said you weren’t Abby’s dad.”

“But I’m not—”

“But you are her parent.”

“So are you.”

A silence fills the room.

“What happened on Saturday?”

“I got anxious when I saw Abby and I’s birth flowers on you. Like how much I loved you was just engraved in your skin, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t mean to push you away, I was just terrified. Terrified that you’re going to leave. Terrified that I won’t be able to protect you.” His voice cracks at the end, and he leans his head against your shoulder that isn’t inked.

Your head turns to kiss his head.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know..” he says softly, but a part of him doesn’t believe it. You and Abby, you’re the only ones who have stayed, the only ones he’s been able to save. He doesn’t know who he is without the two of you. “I’m sorry, I was such a dick.”

“Yeah, but so was I.” You tell him.

“I love your tattoo. I love all of your tattoos. All of them. I love kissing them. I’m desperate for this one to heal so I can kiss this shoulder again.”

“Thank you for helping me with it. It itches like a son of a bitch.” You tell him, a weak smile on your face. Tears stain your shirt.

“Can we go back to normal now? I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you so much.” You turn and wrap your arms around him, the warmth radiating from his body as he holds you close. You wonder if either of you will ever be able to let yourselves be loved.

You hope to let each other try.

You kiss him, salty tears mixing, as you hold him close. He’s careful of your tattoo, not wanting to scratch or hurt you. He’s gentle in a way that betrays him. He desires you in this way that transcends want or need, something that is vital, as if it were breathing.

Yet his hands remain respectful. Gentle. You’re the one that adjusts your position to be over him, as you gently push him back against the bed, kissing him deeper.

He decides he will marry you someday. That maybe the idea of being with you for the rest of his life isn’t scary.

Not when you kiss him like that.

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: Cat!Milena, L/M Beauty and the Beast thing, Seven Swans retelling

Cat!Milena:

He does smell terrifying; all of Milena’s fur tries to stand on end despite being far too wet to do so. But he’s not striking at her or trying to kick her or throwing sticks at her, which puts him well ahead of most of the people she encounters these days. She’s gotten better at understanding body language as a cat – it’s almost like being at court, save for all the ways it isn’t. So despite the unbidden growl in her throat, she gives his hand a more thorough sniff – dear gods her cat nose is too sensitive – and carefully bumps her head against his calloused fingers. Perhaps, if she can charm this stranger, he will share some of his (hopefully) dry food. “Holy shit,” the man whispers, and turns his hand to run his fingers very, very gently over the top of her head. “You’re not running.”

Beast!Milena:

There’s a steaming mug of tea sitting on a table in the sitting room, next to a covered dish which proves to hold a thick slab of fried ham and half a dozen slices of fried egg-bread and a bowl of porridge and a pot of jam and another pot of honey and - “How much does the magic think I eat?” Lambert asks Milena when he finds her down in the glasshouse later that morning. Milena is kneeling beside the rosebush, carefully digging weeds up out of the soil with her claws. She looks up with a soft huff of laughter, ears pricking forward. “It does go rather overboard, does it not?” “I’m one man, not a fuckin’ regiment,” Lambert huffs, unable to hide his grin.

Seven Swans:

“So, swan-keeping,” he says, settling to the far bank of the river in a carelessly elegant sprawl. “That’s an odd thing to be doing out here in the woods.” Lambert glares. The bastard can go away any time. Voltehre, the idiot, goes paddling around Lambert, too far away for Lambert to reach out and snag him, and swims right up to the hunter, and pecks his boot, then stretches his neck up and hisses in the man’s face. Fuck off, he suggests. The hunter boggles. Come back here, you daft featherwit! Lambert howls silently. No, Voltehre says, and lunges forward to snap his beak shut barely a hair’s breadth from the hunter’s nose.

[httpkaulitz]

hi could you write tom from 2014x fem reader where he has a breading kink

Take it all

PAIRINGS: Tom 2014 x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Tom gets a little jealous and decides to show you that you're his alone

WARNINGS: dom!Tom, sub!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, kissing, fingering, oral (m receiving)

A/N: Sorry if this is a little short, I've been having a bit of a writer's block and haven't had much free time either.

Being Tom's girlfriend you were always going to parties with him, it wasn't really your thing, you preferred to stay at home watching a movie cuddled up to him, but he's famous and there are places he simply can't miss. So you got used to it.

Besides the parties he couldn't miss, there were also the parties Bill threw. You didn't know anyone who loved to party more than Bill.

And he was always cheering everyone up. He pushed some drinks into you and after a few minutes you were already happier than you should be, you were never used to drinking a lot so any small amount of alcohol makes you livelier.

Tom watched as you and Bill danced in the center of the room, he didn't want to feel jealous, he knew it didn't make sense, but he couldn't help it.

Tom watched the two of you for what seemed like hours, Bill held your hand aloft and you spun around, staggering a little.

“You’re already drunk, little star.” He chuckled as he held you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor.

“I’m not.” You protest with a pout, but you hold on to Bill to keep from falling.

Tom clenches his fists as he watches the two of you, bodies pressed so close together, just a breath apart. He knows you and Bill don’t see each other that way, but it doesn’t make the irritated feeling inside his chest go away.

“Okay.” A deep voice says to your right. “That’s enough.” Tom’s arm wraps around your waist and he lifts you over his shoulder, carrying you away from the chaos of the party as you half-heartedly slap your hands on his back and tell him to put you down.

As soon as Tom walks up the stairs, out of sight of the guests, he lifts your black skirt, exposing your red lace-covered ass, and his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp pop.

“Ouch.” You protest. “What was that for?”

He massages your ass, but not as if he wants to ease the pain, more like he wants to feel as much of your body as deeply as possible, as if he is eager for it.

"Dancing with my brother like that in front of everyone." He opens the bedroom door and places you on the bed. "Such a bad little girl. You know I'm the only one who is allowed to be this close to you." He says, grabbing your breasts over your shirt.

"Didn't you like it?" You asked with an air of innocence that Tom wasn't sure if it was fake.

"No." He growls and pushes you back, making you fully propped up on the pillows.

Tom kisses you deeply and for a moment you wonder if the dizziness you’re feeling is just from the alcohol. His hand covers your neck, then he kneels above you, one knee on either side of your shoulders.

“But you’ll make it up to me, won’t you?” Tom’s fingers grip your chin, tilting it up. “Open your mouth for me and stick your tongue out, love.”

You do as he says without question, your head still fuzzy and your eyes slightly blurred from the effect of the alcohol in your system.

“That’s it.” He hums, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down enough to pull out his cock before pushing it into your open mouth.

You try, you want to do what he asks, you want to be a good girl, but it’s hard in this position.

He clicks his tongue and says wryly. “What’s wrong, baby, can’t you take me?” You whimper around his cock, still half-hard in your mouth.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t need you to do anything for me.” He tangles his hands in your hair, cradles your head, and fucks himself into your little mouth.

“Fuck, yes.” He groans. “That’s it, baby. All you have to do is lay back and take it.”

Tears well up in your eyes as Tom fucks your face. He gets harder and harder in your mouth, and he thrusts maybe a little too hard, and you can’t help but choke on his cock.

“Aww, was that too much for you?” Tom asks, his voice an odd mix of mockery and tenderness. “Is my cock too big for your little mouth?” You nod slightly, your eyes and throat still burning. “I’m sorry, love.” He says, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Tom pulls away from your mouth and you nearly choke on how forcefully you swallow. He leans down and kisses you again, slowly tasting you. You whimper when he pulls away, his hand finding your soaking pussy and pushing your panties aside. His thumb circles your clit and he roughly thrusts two of his fingers inside you.

“Tom.” You whimper.

He silences you. “It’s okay, baby, I’m here. I’ll take good care of you.” He pumps his fingers inside you, pushing them as deep as they will go before deciding you’re ready enough and filling you with his cock in one smooth thrust. You cry out weakly in protest. He’s so big. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but it’s uncomfortable, and he’s too much to take all at once like this.

His hand covers your mouth as he starts thrusting. “Shh, shh, shh, baby. You need to be quiet. We can’t let everyone hear you, can we? So unless you want this, you better be quiet.” You moan against his hand as he thrusts deep inside you.

“Or maybe you do, huh, my little slut? Would you like to be seen like this?” You whimper and shake your head, mumbling a small “no.”

“Maybe next time, then. Maybe next time I won’t carry you away if you decide to be a little teasing in front of everyone. I’ll let them see how needy you are for my cock.” He hums.

You don’t understand why he’s so upset when you’ve done nothing wrong. Your eyes fill with tears. “Tom...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll always keep you safe, my love.” He groans and thrusts faster inside you.

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. Tom doesn’t take his eyes off you, admiring your rosy cheeks and how you let out little moans every time he moves.

He pushes down your shirt, exposing your breasts. “There they are. My love has the most beautiful tits.” He growls, watching them bounce with each thrust. “Mmm, you’re going to make me cum in that tight pussy. Do you want me to cum inside you, princess?”

Even though you’re embarrassed, you nod.

“So, if I want to fill you with my cum and fuck a baby inside you, what do you say?”

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you respond. “Yes, please.”

“That’s right.” Tom groans as he squeezes your throat, not enough to choke you, just a small squeeze to show he’s in control. “That’s it. Now beg me to cum inside you.”

“Please cum inside me.” You whimper as you tangle your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. It really isn’t fair of him to expect you to talk like this, half drunk and fucking stupid.

“Good girl.” He whispers in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. He grips you tightly, one hand still on your neck, the other on your hip as he pulls you down onto his cock, fucking you impossibly harder. “Now, fucking beg me to get you pregnant.”

“I want you to put a baby in me.” You say breathlessly between moans. “Please, please...”

“Oh, fuck.” He gasps, his hand tightening around your neck. “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum. Such a good girl. And you’re going to take it all, aren’t you? You’re going to keep it all deep inside you.”

You cry out as the hand on your hip moves to play with your clit, making your body tremble beneath him. You feel the heat rise in your belly with each of his movements.

“I love the way it feels when you cum on my dick.” Tom whispers against your ear as if this is a secret between the two of you, and then he groans as he thrusts himself as deep as he can inside you and cums hard.

The two of you stay in the same position for a few minutes, just exchanging soft kisses.

When you pull away, he lays down next to you and pulls you to rest under his chest.

“You weren’t really jealous of me with your brother, were you?” You asked and when Tom didn't answer you lifted your head to look at him in disbelief.

He rolled his eyes and grumbled. "It's not my fault, you were too close."

You opened your mouth to say how absurd that was, but he pulled you by the neck and kissed you again

"If you don't go to sleep now I'm going to fill you up again." And you were a little tempted to answer him.

[skulla-rxcks]

Because you’re mine.{chapter 4}

Previous chapter next chapter

Paring: Bang chan + ot8 x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut, mafia au

Warnings: or4l (fem rec), v4ginal, mentions of murd*r

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @queenmea604 @salfetkablog @hyunlixs-wife0309

Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

It’s the morning after I killed Felix. I slept in Chan’s room for the night while the corpse got disposed of and cleaned off the carpet. “Mmm.. you sleep okay after last night?” Chan groans, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I. I’m still sorry..” I mumble, I feel my cheeks flush red as he wraps his hands around my waist. “For the last time it’s fine. We have to clean up bodies all the time it’s no big deal.” He sighs. “O-oh.. okay.” I pull a slight smile, hoping it’ll fuck off from my mind soon.

“Shit.” I hear Chan mutter under his breath. “Hm?” Oh. Oh my. My eyes widen and the blush on my cheeks grow as I feel something hard pressing against my thigh. “Im so fucking sorry you’re seeing me like this. It’s early in the morning so.. you know.” He rests his face in his palms clearly embarrassed at how his body is reacting right this moment, especially with me lying against him. “Ghh fuck.. could you m-maybe.. mmgh. Could you maybe help me out here?” He asks me, face flushed and embarrassed. “Y-you don’t have to I was just seeing if you know, wanted something out of it too.”

“Sure.” I reply, feeling myself grow wet between my thighs, I’m not wearing panties at all due to them being ripped to shreds. Chan smirks, lifting the sheet off his bed and running his forefinger down my folds, my wetness sticking to his fingers. “shit. May I taste you?” He questions, bringing his head down to my crotch, wanting for my response. I nod. “So wet for me..” he groans, holding my legs open as he thrusts his tongue into my hole, his top teeth grazing my clit as he begins to eat me out like a whole fucking meal. “Chan.. ah..” i moan, my hand reaching down to push his head more into my cunt as he continues to devour it like a starving man going at the last slice of bread.

“You taste so sweet baby..” he starts eating me out more aggressively now, making me buck my hips into his face for more of his mouth.

“I want to touch you..” I pout, moving his head away from me. I palm him through his boxers hearing him curse as I feel his leaking bulge. “Please. I’m so god damn hard right now it’s insane.” He begs, pulling his boxers down. I watch as his hard cock springs up. Immediately I wrap my hand around it, beginning to pump it. I bring my head forward and lick the precum off his tip. My other hand running down to rub my cunt as I get him off at the same time. “Fuck yes.. on your back. Now. Need to feel your tight little pussy around my dick” he moans. I obey his request, taking off my shirt too so I’m fully nude on my back with my legs open. I watch as he rolls the condom on his dick before positioning it at my entrance. “Chan please..” I sob, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushes into me.

“Fuck you’re tighter than I expected.” He bites his lip from all the pleasure he’s feeling in this moment. He begins to pump his hips faster and faster, his dick reaching spots I never have touched before, he’s so deep in me it feels so good.. “K-kiss me please.. need your lips on mine.” I blush. “Anymore requests, princess?” He smirks at me, bringing his lips to mine and kissing me deeply as out tongues tangle together. “I’m gonna cum soon..” I warn him, my cunt beginning to clench around his length as I make my release. He cums after, filling the condom up almost immediately before pulling out and disposing of it correctly.

“Put these on, we’ll miss breakfast.” Chan says, sighing as he gives me some loose shorts to wear with his shirt that he gave me last night.

I get changed then follow Chan to the dinning table for breakfast.

I take a seat next to Chan once again. I try to keep my gaze off everyone due to one of them being.. well, dead. “So is it true?” One of the boys say, Changbin. “Is what true?” I scoff at him, not wanting to talk after the Felix incident that happened last night. “Is it true that you killed Felix?” He asks, getting up from his chair and walking behind me, randomly leaving a little delicate kiss on my collarbone. “Changbin. Dont. You can play with her later.” Chan sighs, holding up a butter knife to Changbin’s face, as if he was threatening him almost.

“P-play with.. me?” I turn to whisper to Chan. Wondering if he wants to see me getting used by his friends. “If you give them want they want they most likely won’t want to hurt you. Trust me. These guys are basically brothers to me.” He reassures me, rubbing my back to calm down my nerves that are sending warning signals to my brain. “Show me your tits.” Han says randomly, causing my face to flush at the sudden demand. “W-what?” I ask.

“I wanna see your tits.” He smirks. “Just do it yeah? I’ll reward you with my thick cock later..” Chan whispers in my ear. I immediately decide to lift up my shirt, not wanting to miss out on how good Chan felt inside me a second time. “Oh wow..” Han grins, walking over and taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “W-what are you.. nngh..” I moan at the sudden feeling of his tongue swirling around the swollen bud. “Damn she’s hot.” I hear Seungmin say under his breath. Not long after Han pulls away. I go back to Chan’s room and just sleep for the whole day, still recovering mentally from last night

[astrathepasta]

AITA for not realising who my soulmate was?

To preface this, I don't think I'm the AITA, but my soulmate seems to.

So I (M) am in one of those death games, but that isn't really important. In this death game, we are all partnered up with another player. I wasn't interested in finding my soulmate as I wanted to prioritise other things, such as a good base. I ended up travelling with 3 of the other players, J (M), E (M), and G (M). It may be important to note that J and E are soulmates.

After a trip to a pillagers base, I gained a new allay friend (F). Later on, this friend ended up flying away. I had started taking some damage, but I brushed it off as J joking along with others. Then I heard G screaming. At the time, I didn't realise it was due to him realising he was my soulmate. However, in hindsight, I can realise that I should have realised what was happening. G ended up sticking with me after J and E went their own separate way, but we ended up going a different way, too. I ended up finding some pandas that looked identical to my cat (F). Of course, I got attached to these and wanted to keep them. G ended up finding me again and was trying to tell me something. However, the cat-pandas were taking my attention, which G could clearly see. He asked for my attention, which I tried to give him, but those cat-pandas ended up distracting me again. G yelled at me, causing me to pay full attention.

G dropped a rock onto my head. This is what caused me to realise we were linked. G couldn't believe that I had no clue, but I genuinely did not know. He seems to still not be happy with me because of this.

So, AITA? If so, what can I do?

Edit 1: For anyone asking if G would have a reason for not wanting to be my soulmate, I can only think of one thing. In the first death game, G tried to play a prank on a group of me and our friends. However, this backfired and killed me. This put me down to my yellow life, and it was the first death in the server. G felt bad and apologised. He ended up apologising and giving his first life to me (EDIT 2: why is everyone saying this is gay?). I ended up in an accident, which put me down to my red life. We ended up in a war, but that's irrelevant right now. Even after he lost his first life, he stuck with me (EDIT 3: guys why is this also gay) Later on, I ended up killing him, putting him down to his red life. G felt betrayed (rightfully so), so I offered my life to him. He refused to kill me. However, the eldritch horror gods demanded a fight between us. So we ended up fighting in a cacti ring with no weapons, armour, or anything. He won and killed me. He then ended up killing himself. G ended up telling me that he wanted nothing to do with me in the next game. To be honest, that hurt. But that can be the only thing I can think of.

UPDATE: Hi guys. Sorry to say, but this is not a happy update. G had been very distant recently, and I didn't know what I could do to help. I didn't know if it was me not knowing we were soulmates or me slipping up with the paper sales we had been doing.

While on my horse (Horse), I ending up passing G and another friend, whom I will refer to as B (M). They were passing items between each other and were really close. This was odd due to B being a red life. Through the knowledge of some other players, I figured out that G, MY soulmate, was baking bread for another man. G and B were self-proclaimed secret soulmates.

I don't know what to do now. Any advice would be appreciated.

[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

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Moth to a Flame

synopsis: Levi Ackerman - Captain of the Scout Regiment. He's broody, quiet, and clean. You're a scout, skilled in combat and has killed numerous titans. You dated Captain Levi briefly, in secret, in a whirlwind romance. Late nights and secrets are what kept your "relationship" afloat. Due to Levi's ideals, he decided to end things with you, but now you're moved on. But Levi hasn't.

authors note: this takes place in the AOT universe, and it will reference SOME of the events from the anime, so be aware if you're not caught up. i won't be following the timeline of the manga/anime.

characters: levi ackerman, erwin smith, erin jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlot, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, hange zoe, + more.

content warnings: some chapters will be nsfw. i will put a warning before each chapter if it contains 18+ content.

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E – A U T U M N

The air was cold and crisp as it flowed through your window to the room you shared with Mikasa and Sasha. Summer is over and autumn has kissed the leafs on the trees.

Your body twitched as the air touched your skin. You made a mental note to start sleeping with a sweatshirt on. Sasha's snores filled the room while Mikasa slept silently.

You grab your watch from your nightstand and look at the time. 5:45 AM. You like to go on runs before breakfast to get your heart rate up and get some vitamin D before you had to attend training for your next mission.

After putting a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, you're out the door. The girls won't be up for another hour, so you didn't want to disturb them.

As you walk down the hallway, you put your hair in a ponytail, looking at your feet as you walk.

Then your body collided with another.

"Sorry." You say before you even look up at who's in front of you.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

"Sorry, Captain." You correct yourself, standing up straight.

"Where are you off to?" Levi brushed off his shirt, freshly pressed of course.

"I'm going on a run before breakfast."

Levi nodded in response, pushing past you towards Erwin's office. You sighed when you felt it was safe to, ignoring the pending thoughts in your head.

Levi Ackerman broke your heart, and you just super-glued the pieces back together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Breakfast was usually the same in the scouts. Eggs, bread, and sometimes bacon. Everyone sits in what we call the "mess hall" and eats breakfast together before we put our bodies through the ultimate torture which is training to fight titans.

You find your usual table – Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

"Good morning!" Sasha said as she stuffed her face with eggs. "I heard you leave this morning, how was your run?"

"I'm surprised you could hear me over your snoring." You chuckle, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "It was good. The sun felt good this morning, I'm so glad its finally autumn."

"You go on runs every morning?" Jean asked, patting his mouth with his napkin.

"Yeah, I like to prepare myself for training for the day."

You didn't want to say that Levi gave you the idea to go on runs every morning. He goes on runs earlier than you, thank God, because you'd rather not have to see him more than you already do.

"I might have to start doing that. I feel like I run really slow." Eren nodded to himself. I knew Mikasa was now going to also be going on runs in the morning with Eren. They are inseparable.

"That's awesome." Jean smiled as he said your name. He's always been sweet and funny, especially with Connie. They make you laugh every day, even on your worst days.

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stick up, a wave of goosebumps to follow. Your ears honed in on the sound of his boots against the floor.

You hated that Levi had this affect on you.

He was talking to Hange about her latest Titan experiment, which he sounded less than thrilled about. You made a conscious effort not to look at him.

"Morning Captain!" Armin said with a smile. He's always so joyful in the morning, which is something you envy.

"Good morning brats." Levi nodded in approval, his eyes glazing over yours for a split second.

A memory of you waking up next to him flashed in your mind, a time when you accidentally fell asleep after spending the night talking, kissing, and obviously... other activities.

"You good?" Jean's voice was like a pin to your thoughts, popping them instantly. "You looked like you're spacing out."

"Yeah, I was just thinking about how good a cup off coffee would be right now. I'm gonna go get some." You get up from your seat, shaking off the feeling of your memory.

"I've never felt like this." Levi kissed your ear, his voice low in your ear. His hand snaked up your body to your face, taking your chin roughly in his hands and pulling it towards his face. "You're one of a kind."

Life without Levi has been tough, but you have gotten over the gash of heartbreak he left. Seeing him every day for training and missions has gotten easier, and thankfully he doesn't want to see you any more than you do him.

Or so you think.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

let me know what you guys think so far!

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Pt. 5)

(Pt. 4)

Rated: M

TAGS: language/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/sensuality/reader is normal and likes to do normal things/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Terrezanos/dead bodyodyodyody

When Mark comes to collect you, he's in a somewhat nicer suit than usual, but you look drastically different. Yes, you want a nice romantic dinner with this powerful man that keeps you on your toes…but you also want to wear something that will look incredible on a bedroom floor.

His eyes rake over you when he sees your black dress with lace detail, your painted red lips, your legs that seem to go on for miles.

“Ho-ly,” he starts. You shut him up with a tip-toe kiss. His large hands wrap around your waist and he tries to deepen the kiss, but you pull away.

“This is MAC, Hoffman. Don't you dare smudge it.”

“Sweetheart you could put that lipstick all over me and I'd buy you 100 more.”

“Damn you're perfect, huh? Come on. We can ruin my makeup after dinner.”

He hides it pretty well, but you can still see the effect that comment has on him. He grunts inaudibly and his pants definitely tighten. You can picture it, too. On your knees, on the bed (his or yours, doesn't matter), your lipstick is smudged, your eyeliner and mascara streaming down your face. You fight every urge to just drag him back inside and fuck his brains out.

He opens the car door for you and you thank him sweetly. They weren't all bad before Ted, but Mark is different. He's confident, maybe cocky at times, but he's gentle with you and hasn't pushed you too far yet. And he respects you. You don't remember the last time you were respected like this.

“So, where are you taking me?” You ask as you put on your seatbelt. Mark doesn't miss the way the safety fabric cuts between your breasts and he clears his throat.

“Terrezanos.”

You gawk at him. “What? Mark, no, that place is way too expensive.”

“Yeah, well, I'm trying to impress you. Besides, you've always wanted to go there.”

You narrow your eyes. “How do you know?”

“I overheard you telling Gerry one day at the restaurant. If you really don't want to, we can go somewhere else-”

“No!” You laugh. “No, it's just…I don't know. Thanks, Mark.”

He flashes a quick glance between you and the road but when he sees your genuine face, it gives him pause.

“Of course. I want this to be special, you know?”

God, your heart flutters. How do you go from being a horny mess to love-struck in a matter of minutes?

The drive is short and you relish in the comfort of Mark's nice car. Leather seats that are warm, quiet wheels, clean smell. Better than any car you've been in lately. And when you pull up to the restaurant, you're absolutely blown away to see-

“Holy shit, they have valets!”

Mark smirks and parks in front of the restaurant. You unbuckle your seatbelt but Mark puts a hand on your arm to stop you.

“Hold on,” he says, then exits the car. You groan as he comes around to your side.

“Mark! Chivalry isn't dead but I'm starving!”

He opens the door for you and you take the waiting hand that helps you from the car. Mark hands his keys over to the valet with thanks. And as you walk in, a gentle hand hovers over your lower back. You feel like some sort of rich wife walking in for the monthly dinner with her husband.

The sudden and seemingly random imagery shakes you for a moment while Mark talks reservation and walks you to the table. You force yourself to remember that this is good fun. He's nice, he's sexy, he treats you well. You're gonna have a good night- a great night, maybe, as long as you get your head out of your ass.

Expensive wine. It's not your preferred and as soon as Mark sees your soured face that you did your best to hide, he orders a different glass.

You both order steak and you pick at a bread stick during the wait.

“Okay, you know too much about me,” you remark. Mark chuckles. “What about you?”

“Eh, what about me. I live at my job. I don't like running.”

“Family?”

“Mom upstate, dad passed a few years ago. Had a sister, but uh…”

Shit, you're stupid. You're a full fucking idiot. You're just trying to make small talk and here you are forgetting about one of the most tragic things you've ever heard.

“God, I'm so sorry, Mark. I completely forgot. You don't have to say anything else.”

“No, no it's fine. I don't ever really talk about her anymore.”

“Seriously, Mark, I understand.”

“But she deserves better than that. I think you woulda liked each other.”

You watch him for a moment silently, hands folded under your chin. Suddenly, he's disarmed.

“Tell me about her.”

And he does, and he lights up. Angela. Angel on earth. His best friend and only person he ever really trusted. Slaughtered by her ex boyfriend.

You wonder about her. How similar your bones are and the tethers that tie you. You'd seen the crime scene photos on the internet. How similar she looked to the photo on Mark's office shelf. She was the same person, after all.

You laugh through your dinner and start the flirting through dessert. You sigh.

“What's that?”

You shrug with a smile. “Can't decide if I don't want this to ever end or… If I want us to get out of here.”

You slip a foot out of its heel and slide it against his ankle, up his calf, and against his inner thigh. Mark inhales sharply and sets an elbow on the table a little too hard, shaking the glasses.

“You are playing a risky game.”

“Risky? I'm just looking for what was promised me.”

“Promised?”

“I'm collecting.”

“Say less.”

You don't even realize that Mark's going in the direction of his place (or what you assume is his place because it's in the opposite direction). You've got a hand ghosting up his leg and he's giving you the same treatment. If he weren't driving, you'd give him head right here, right now.

You both jump when a crackle comes from his police radio.

“Shit,” he mutters, tuning into the frequency.

“Dispatch, all available units to the factory off third…looks like another one.”

Mark nearly swerves off the road. You pull you hand back as your heart hammers in your chest.

“Jesus. What did he mean?”

Mark stares into the dark ahead, lips parted slightly in some intense thought.

“Another trap,” he breathes. “Fuck. I gotta get there. I'll drop you back at your place-”

“No, it'll be quicker for you to go straight to 3rd. I'll stay in the car. You need to do this, right? Catch this guy?”

Mark is fighting himself. Something within him wins and he nods, puts the car in reverse, and speeds to the factory. It's an old, abandoned place, something to do with manufacturing. But when you arrive, there's already ambulances, cop cars, and people, so many people. Mark practically throws himself out of the car and into the throngs. From your seat, you can barely overhear a conversation.

“You're not supposed to be here-”

“No one gave more to this case than me. Let me through.”

Another car pulls up beside you and two men step out, wearing windbreakers with “FBI” plastered on the back. Shit. Your hand moves instinctively to the handle as though there's anything you can do to help this situation.

You watch as Mark is now in a proper screaming match with someone. They aren't letting him through, and then you see a body being wheeled out on a stretcher. The blanket is pulled up too far. Whoever this poor bastard is, they're dead.

And then you spot the hand. The tattoos on the fingers. The ring you had bought him two Christmases ago.

You have no trouble now leaving the car. You stumble in your heels towards the back of the ambulance. Some notice you and go to grab you away but you avoid them. You only get close enough to confirm your suspicions before Mark has a hold of your wrist, then your arm, then all of you as you realize fully that Ted is on the stretcher before you, dead. A victim to the Jigsaw killer. Bringing you one step closer to a serial killer, and hundreds of miles away from anything ever making sense again.

[sallyface4everimmarriedto]

chapter two

[Present]

Sometime in the day Denji has killed the Tomato Devil and pulls Pochita’s blade out of it

"Phew…Gotta be the Tomato Devil. He’ll revive from the seeds, so you’ll wanna burn those" denji says speaking to the boss

"Nice work, Denji this carcass will bring in a fair price on the black market. I’ll pay you 400,000"

The yakuza boss praises the sixteen year old boy

Denji face has an excited expression at the praise and the money "Hey, thanks!"

"After what you owe and the interest, that leaves 170,000. So after the finder’s fee, admin fee, management costs, and so on…"

Then his expression dropped slowly

Drops each time as the list goes on

Sometime later, in the city Denji walks with Pochita down the street

"… that leaves me with 70,000" he says to pochita then continues

"After the water bill and some other stuff I owe…Funny how that works. I’ve got 1,800 yen left"

"No food at home, and this is gonna have to last us a month, so…Pochita, looks like dinner’s gonna be a slice of bread"

Denji walks past a car with the yakuza boss and his driver then denji can feel a familiar sense of dread that he still has not gotten used to even after many years

The driver and the boss shiver from the but try to ignore it but it was unerving then start to have a conversation as they see walking to help

"Why hire a brat like that to hunt devils?" The driver asks

"He’s paying off what he owes us. Well, technically, it was his deadbeat Boss’s debt" the boss responds

"And a kid with a pet devil can get the job done?"

"The thing about real devil hunters is that they don’t pass devil carcasses on to the yakuza Besides, the best thing about Denji is he does what he’s told"

The car drives to catch up with Denji the more the car gets close to denji the more the sense of dread grows

"Hey, dog!" The driver yells out the window

"Ah…"

"I’ll give you 100 yen to eat this cigarette! Hmm?" The driver tells denji at that point the the dreadful feeling thickens making the atmosphere almost hard to breath in

The sky seems to be cloudy maybe even turn black or red for a split second before returning to its normal blue

Ignoring it denji responds "For real? Don’t mind if I do"

Denji takes the man’s cigarette

"Ahh~..."

Denji swallows the cigarette

"Hahahaha!" The driver laughs in amusement

Then the bosses window rolls down

"We’ll be in touch when there’s another devil Try and run, and you’re pig slop" he says

"Ngh… Oh"

Denji walks away from the car, and the car drives off then a familiar angelic man pops out if nowhere and slaps him on the back of the head with one of his wings

"You imbecile"

"Hehe…Blegh…"

Denji sticks his tongue out. The cigarette is on it

"I didnt really swallow it...That’ll keep us for another three days"

"Woof!"

..............................................................

In Denji’s shed in which the three call home Denji and Pochita rest from the rain Pochita takes a bite of bread while m/n sits next to denji with a mini alternate in his hands

as if it was his child he showed it but he examined it as if it was an expiriment

he sat the alternate Down near pochita to see how it will react to pochita but it just ends up climbing on him as if he was a horse

"The other day I heard that normally, people put jam on their bread before eating it" denji speaks up

M/n raises an eyebrow at denji not seeing the point in food since he doesn't eat or need to eat

and doesn't get whats so good about the mush in your mouth 

Besides....human tastes better

.............................................................

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

day 1: A Record of You and I

A diary from the mid 1700s kept by a man named Simon Snow, a farmhand for the Grimm estate. He records the death and the subsequent vampiric transformation of his close friend, and heir to the Grimm estate, Basilton Grimm.

Rating: M

Length: 4,321

Warnings: main character death/undeath. non-graphic (maybe slightly graphic) depictions of violence/blood, mentions of animal death, implied sex

Read on AO3 or below the cut

September 3rd 1742

I've never had a journal before but Basilton tells me it will help with my reading and writing. He's taught me all my letters and wants me to practice on my own now. He says he’ll continue reading to me if I like. He’ll keep helping me with handwriting too, but Basilton insists that having a personal record will do me good. Even so, I do not know what to record. Though I must not waste this lovely gift. Basilton says to write about my day, my thoughts. He must have more thoughts within him than I, for I am already out of things to say, and Basilton adds to his journal at all hours of the day. 

September 6th 1742

Today I milked the cows and took them out in the field to graze. I ate fresh bread with a lot of butter.  I did some other chores. It is late. I do not wish to write more.

September 7th 1742

Today I had porridge for breakfast, and some tasty stew Ebb made for supper. Charlie, the cattle dog, found a new favorite stick out in the pasture today, he hasn't stopped chewing it since this morning.

September 8th 1742

I hope Basil will forgive me for my short entries. It's not as if he’ll read what I put down here. Personal journals are to be personal, he tells me. So I’m just meant to speak to myself? I will keep at it, if only to gain more surety in my handwriting. 

September 9th 1742

It is Sunday, I went to Mass. Basilton came to the cabin after the service. Brought me some scones Vera made. Sir Grimm does not approve of his son spending so much time with a farmhand, Basilton told me of another scolding he got earlier this week. I do not know why he spends time with me, against his father’s wishes, but I will not stop him. We ate lunch together. I enjoyed the food, and the company more. Basilton would call me a liar if he read that, my love of scones is rarely bested by anything, but Basilton is a good friend to me. 

Everything feels so easy with Basil. He can make me laugh no matter what, even when he's poking fun at me. We talked for hours yesterday, and he listened when I spoke about my days, my observations of the cattle. Basil worries I work too hard, but I don't do much really, and I enjoy the labor. Besides, what else am I to do with my time? We discussed a poem Basil had read to me a few weeks ago. I am not usually one for poetry, but Basilton speaks about poems in a way that makes sense to me. I thought him unbearably arrogant when I first started working for his family, speaking of literature constantly and looking down his big nose at me. He still is arrogant at times, but now that we are friends I know he is also kind and caring and truly intelligent. He speaks of his sisters often, and how he worries he won’t meet his father’s expectations. He remains unmarried and this troubles Sir Grimm. 

But Basilton has land to inherit and good social standing. He has many admirable qualities, and it goes without saying that he is handsome. He should have no trouble finding a wife. I said this to Basilton today but he became uncomfortable. Quickly, he brushed it off and picked up a new topic of conversation. This has happened before, I do not know if it’s the subject of marriage, or if he is too modest a man, but many times I have stated his good qualities, only for Basiton to blush and deny them, or leave the conversation. 

September 20th 1742

I ate Turkey for supper yesterday. One of the bulls charged at me today because I looked at him wrong. Bastard. Gareth made me help him till the field today. Another bastard. He said he couldn’t get it done in time without help, despite the crops being his and his sons’ job, and the cattle being mine. 

Went to the pub with Ebb, the goatherd yesterday. She told me a great joke about goats but I was drunk and can't remember it now. I might ask her to tell me it again.  

September 22nd 1742

Today was an easy day, I fiddled with my carving knife while out in the field. Made a little wooden Charlie but when I showed it to him the blasted dog chewed it up. I tried to stop him but then I just laughed. I suppose I’m glad he found my carving nice enough to devour. 

September 30th 1742

Basilton visited today. He brought me some of his books, said I could keep them, since I mentioned how much I liked the last one he read to me. I thanked him for the books, he is so kind to me. I do not know if I will ever read them though. Perhaps I should not have taken them. It’s not that I am ungrateful, I just didn’t know how to tell Basilton I mostly enjoy hearing his voice read to me, more than I care about the contents of the books. I am sad as this probably means he will not continue reading aloud to me. 

October 1st 1742

I’ve not been writing as much as I feel I should. I fear my life is just not that interesting. Basilton tells me it’s plenty interesting. He’ll listen to my stories about cattle and Charlie without complaint. Gareth tells me my stories are boring though. “Who cares if a calf was born with a spot that looks just like a field mouse?” he said to me when I told that story at the pub last week. As if throwing seeds on the ground makes for great stories. 

October 8th 1742

I found some poppies in the field, the first of the fall. I picked a couple of the red flowers. Gave them to Basil when he came round my cottage in the evening. He tried to resist them but I insisted. I told him it was repayment for the books he left with me. That wasn't all true, I just wanted to share the beauty of those little things with him. Basilton accepted the flowers then, I do hope he likes them. I cannot offer him much more, though I wish I had more to give to my friends. 

October 10th 1742

I tried carving a flower out of wood but I cocked it up. I might try again with a thicker stick.

October 12th 1742

The cattle are well. The sun is shortening our days. I heard a bird song I did not recognize today, while out in the field. It was lovely. I must start saving up for a new winter coat, mine is threadbare and has not been keeping me warm enough as the world gets colder. Basilton tells me he’s going deer stalking with his cousins in a few days. He will be gone for at least a month. It will be their first hunt of the season. 

October 15th 1742

Basilton left today. I tended to the cattle. I tried to brush off the sadness that seemed to hang over the day. Perhaps the cloudy days are affecting my mood, or the cold weather. I might just sleep early today. 

October 30th 1742

He died. On that trip he

November 25th 1742

I went to Mass today. I sat alone. I tried to welcome the Holy Spirit but I feel so alone in this world. I grieve Basil every waking moment. I thought this would pass, it’s been nearly a month and still the wound is as fresh as the day I learned of his death. I’ve never had someone to lose before, like this. I loved him deeply, as if he were my own family I have come to realize. I find myself almost grateful that I did not know my parents, that I will not, one day, have to grieve them as well.

The Lord’s Day is the most painful, God forgive my soul for saying so. I cannot distract myself with work. I try to pray, but my mind wanders ever back to my lost friend. I grow tired of writing, but I will not put down this journal forever, Basilton wouldn't want me to.

November 27th 1742

I woke up this morning to something strange. I found one of the cows dead in the field. I hadn’t noticed any signs of sickness in the herd, but there were also no signs of an animal attack. There was no wound I could find, no blood. She looked strange, I cannot say why, though. It was as if something was missing, from beneath the skin. I told Sir Grimm, and the other farmhands, in case there is sickness in the herd. I’ll be keeping a closer watch on the cattle.

November 29th 1742

I visited Basilton’s grave this evening. It did me no good. I only felt the pain of loss much stronger standing there, reading his gravestone. It was as if there were a stake ran through my chest. I could hardly breathe through the sobs that came out of me. It was so strange, knowing Basilton was so close, only two meters or so below where I stood, and yet he was impossibly far. 

It does me little good to dwell on these negative feelings. 

November 30th 1742

I try to fill my days with actions. I inspect the cows twice, three times over, to check for any signs of decaying health. I pace the perimeter of the field while they graze. I help Gareth work the land when I should be resting. I chop enough firewood for this winter and the next two. I stay too long at the pub and drink more than I can afford. I imagine spots in my cabin that need cleaning, and I scrub and scrub and scrub until the pain in my hands is all that I can feel. And yet, I still ache for the companionship of Bailston. What am I to do with myself?

December 1st 1742

I cannot stop thinking of Basilton. Truly, I never stopped thinking of him, even when he was alive and with me. The Grimm family told us he was trampled by his own horse, fell off it while hunting. In quiet moments my mind creates imaginations of his last terrible moments. When I lay in bed, if I am not drunk as a lord, I cannot sleep for hours. I pray to God for a miracle, but my pleas are left unanswered. I know it to be foolish, but I cannot help myself. I would do anything for Basilton. Anything to see him again. 

December 4th 1742

I do not want to write this, but I feel I must. I saw Basilton last night. I know, I know that he is dead, and God willing, he is at peace in heaven. But I came home from the pub late last night, crawled into bed, then, I saw Basil in my room, as if he were alive. He did not look ghostly, no, he looked as if he had new life coursing through him. His skin flush. His smile wide. There were no signs he had ever been dead. 

I cried out, I could not help it. He came to me, to my bed. I sat up to meet him. And he held me. A hand pressed to my chest, the other wrapped around my back. His dark hair against my chin as he rested his face to my collar bone. We did not speak. I feared I would wake from the dream. And it must have been a dream. 

I woke up this morning half expecting to see Basilton about the grounds, as if his death was a nightmare I could finally wake from. But he was not here, of course not. My mind has been so fixed on Basilton it only makes sense he would creep into my dreams.

December 5th 1742

It happened again, last night, I was not asleep this time. I was changing into my night clothes, when Basil appeared to me. I did not hear him come in. My candle cast his shadow against the wall. He must have been standing there as flesh and bone, not as a ghost or a vision. He wore regular clothes, not the burial shroud–made from his own family’s wool–that he was laid to rest in. He had on his purple vest with yellow embroidered flowers. It was one of his favorites, he told me years ago. Again he did not speak, but he touched my hand. He was so cool. a welcome feeling; I was so hot. I pulled him into an embrace. I whispered his name, I did not know what else I could do. I swear to God, he spoke my name in response.

Suddenly I felt so tired, so drained. Likely the day’s work catching up to me. I tried to fight the urge to sleep, but my eyes closed before I could watch Basilton leave, or say anything more to him.

December 6th 1742

Another cow, and one of the bulls have died, for the same mysterious reason as the first cow. The herd was restless yesterday, as if they could sense misfortune in the air, but I could not do anything to prevent their deaths. I do not even know what I need to be protecting them from.  

I am worried, and unsettled.

December 8th 1742

The night before this last I stayed up, hoping to see my old friend again, though he never came. But last night I saw Basilton again. He spoke this time, only my name. My heart filled with joy to hear my friend’s deep voice call me Simon after I was sure we’d never be able to speak to each other again in this life. He sat beside me on the bed. I told him I had missed him. He placed a cool hand on my cheek, looked into my eyes. His were a familiar light grey, but he wore an expression I couldn't make sense of.

Then, he kissed me. I hesitate to write these words. He must be a sodomite. I have always heard such men are evil, but I could never think of Basilton that way. He's always been so lovely. 

And the worst part is that I kissed him back. The best part is that I kissed him back. I have not kissed anyone before. He was so soft against my lips. So cool. His hand held my jaw, and his tongue pressed against my lips. An elation sprung up within me that I cannot describe. I held him tightly, wanting more than anything for this moment to last forever. I couldn’t help but think he should have done this sooner. We should have done this when Basil was still living. 

Oh God! I weep remembering that he is dead. 

Basilton kissed farther down my neck, across my collar bones, left kisses on my chest so hard they hurt. I did not stop him. He didn't go farther than my bosom, but-

I wanted him to. I felt as if under a spell, wrapped up in a world of pleasure balanced by the slightest pain. I wanted more, wanted all of him , but before I knew it I was awake, and alone, as the morning sun shown through my window. 

I was slow in my work today. Gareth noticed, told me I should not be so lazy. My body betrays me, I feel so weak.

December 13th 1742

Basilton visits me nightly now. I welcome his touches, his hard kisses. I walk through my days now, dreaming of night. 

The cows have begun to distrust me, they put up a fight when I try to milk them, and a few are no longer eating. I do not know why. Sir Grimm, despite having experience with livestock, seemed just as perplexed as I when I brought up the strange deaths and behaviors of his herd. Though, I know his mind is elsewhere, the mourning clothes he and Madam Grimm wear are a constant reminder of their loss.

I hear whispers at the pub of ghost sightings. I hear gossip from the house servants that the Grimm children wake up screaming in the nights now. 

December 19th 1742

The weather gets worse. I feel frozen to the bone. My hands hurt daily. My work gets harder, as more animals under my care drop dead, and my strength seems to dwindle with each moment. The waking world has no joy, no pleasure left. But I go through each day, waiting for night. Only at night can I remember what happiness is. Basilton comes to me. He holds me, and we kiss for hours. Basil leaves marks and bruises on my skin but I welcome it. My hands praise the skin he uncovers for me. We commit sins I never knew could bring such pleasures. 

December 20th 1742

I admit, I have not allowed myself to consider how or why Basilton appears to me alive, when I know he was laid in his grave two months ago. I just cannot think of it, I cannot search for reasons to distrust this gift I have. I may be a fool, or a doomed sodomite, but I cannot find it in me to fight what is happening. I cannot consider this to be anything but good or I might truly lose myself. 

December 24th 1742

Last night was disturbing. Basilton came to my room as usual. We kissed, and lay together, and I felt so joyous, but quickly the tides turned. He pinned my naked body to the bed. He sat over me and tore at my flesh with his bare hands. I cried out but I could not stop him. Some dark part of me did not want to stop him. Basilton lapped up the blood that poured from my chest like a starved dog. The unGodly sight did things to me. As if possessed by something, I craved his bloodshed.

I do not know what is wrong with me. 

I awoke with deep wounds on my chest. A mess of horror and lust arose within me as I touched the raised flesh, the dried blood. I know this is not natural, this is not holy. I should seek out a doctor, or a priest, but I can't stand the thought of losing my dear Basil again. I would open up a vein for him. I would tie our hearts together for eternity if it meant Basilton could be mine. 

December 25th 1742

It is Christmas Day. A holiday that should be full of cheer. Basil once told me it was his favorite holiday, so it holds an extra special meaning for me. I wish he had been here, enjoying the day. I try not to be too sad, he will be here soon, arriving with the stars in the sky.  

Ebb spent the day with me. I gave her a small wooden goat I carved. She does not say it but I know she misses her brother most around this time of year. I tried to be there for her, as I pretended not to notice the tears running down her red cheeks. But I found it hard to care. All my thoughts were consumed by anticipation for my next visit with Basilton. I know that is terrible. I tried to fight it, to focus on the friend I had with me at the moment, but I struggled. My mind, and my heart are trapped in a world with only Basilton and myself. A world no one else could understand. 

December 26th 1742 

Basilton attacked me again last night. My neck, chest, and stomach are covered in signs of his violent affection. Oh my dear God, I try to feel remorse, to summon disgust at our actions, but it is just not there within me. My mind is a haze of painful pleasure, my thoughts, along with my flesh and blood, fully consumed by Basilton. He is a fallen angel. He is a monster, and I must be one as well, but I have no will to change that. 

I love him. I’ll love him no matter what we become. 

I found more cattle dead this morning. Now nearly a third of the herd is gone. This time they have markings to match the wounds on my chest. 

I told Ebb about the deaths, she told me a few goats have passed as well. I will tell the baronet tomorrow. 

December 27th 1742

I went to tell Sir Grimm about the dead cows this morning. 

In the manor I overheard the baronet and baronetess speaking of another attack last night. I stopped myself short of the doorway into Sir Grimm’s study. I stood in the hallway, slowing my breath to hear them through the door. 

“Mordelia saw Basilton again last night. He hurt her, picked her up and left scratches on her back,” Daphne said to Malcolm. Sir Grimm stated he’s seen their son some nights as well. I became jealous upon hearing these words, at learning I was not the only one Basil is giving attention to. A foolish thought, of course he would want to see his family. But they spoke of him in fearful tones. They do not know my sweet Basil is only full of love. 

“He is a vampire,” Sir Grimm said. I had to stop myself from crying out. Madam Grimm gasped, begged him no. Sir Grimm mumbled something comforting. “It must be done. He’s not our son anymore, Daphne, he is an evil creature.” 

A vampire. The livestock dying, the frightened children, and my nightly visits from Basilton, all signs of a vampire. Dear God, Basil did not deserve such a fate!! I know what they will do to him: dig up his grave, stake his heart, cut off his head, and burn him to ashes. 

He will be gone forever. 

I cannot bear the thought! 

I know now what I must do, and I must do it quickly. 

Later on the 27th

Hastily, I have made my preparations. I could not risk Sir Grimm getting to Basilton first. I am prepared to go tonight. 

December 28th 1742

I went to Basilton’s grave late last night. I was the only soul awake besides the owls. I brought along a lantern, a shovel, a small pack with all my coin and what few possessions I care to keep, and a small wheelbarrow I took from the barn. The light of my lantern guided me through the familiar trees and headstones, until I found the name Basilton Grimm carved into stone. 

The rain poured down endlessly. The wet earth offered little resistance to my shovel, but digging was not quick work. The wind put out my lantern thrice. I gave up relighting, nothing would stop me. I had a singular purpose. I felt as if I’d been guided here, to this moment, to save my love. 

After hours of labor, my shovel kissed the wood of a coffin, I nearly collapsed from relief, and exhaustion. Prying the lid from my Basil’s prison was harder than I had expected. Once I had it off, I threw it from the hole. 

I wept. There was my dearest Basilton asleep in his coffin. I relit the lantern. I fell to my knees, sharing the cramped space with him. The light revealed a blood-stained mouth and burial shroud. His hair was a little longer, more lustrous than in life, his skin ruddy and plump. I worried I would find his face smashed, his body mangled from horses’ hooves, but he was unmarked and as beautiful as ever. His hands were free from his shroud, also bloody. 

These are all signs of a vampire, but I could not care. I had to reach out to touch his cold flesh.

I had to kiss him. 

My lips met his, and in that coffin, surrounded by earth, over the sound of the attacking rain, Basil softly moaned. I swear I heard it. I swear his lips moved against mine.  

Elated with indescribable joy I tried to wake him more, desperate for proof he really was living. He did not open his eyes, or speak to me, or move. But when I pressed my ear to his chest I heard the drum of his heart beat steadily. 

My sweet Basilton alive! Now that I have him, I will let no harm come to him. I will keep Basil safe from those who want to kill him again. 

It is early morning now, the sun is just starting to peak over the land in the East. This will be my last entry. I shall leave my journal here, in my Basilton’s empty grave, in case anyone is searching for us. I care not who reads these words, they will not find us. I will be far away, with my love, finally happy. 

(A note placed in the back of the journal)

Dearest Simon, 

I hope this journal will be of use to you. I do believe keeping a journal will help you continue improving your literacy. And perhaps it will aid in other ways. I find it helps to have a private place for one's thoughts and feelings. My journals are a great comfort to me. 

Beyond that, I must admit I do enjoy the thought that there will be a record of you and of I. That people may know who we were, and that we were good friends.

Yours truly, 

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm

[eva-knits12]

Going To Costco with Jake Jensen

It's that time of the month!

It's time for you and Jake to go to Costco.

You get there early to do the cans and bottles,

Jake grabs the SUV sized cart.

You made the list.

Jake, when left to his own devices, will NEVER make a list.

Which is why he spends more money that he intends to.

You show your membership card to the greeter.

First thing's first.

Jake has to look at every computer, every tablet, every phone, and every TV.

Then, Jake sees a few old-school arcade games.

Of course, Jake has to look at every one.

It takes longer than you intended because Jake has to touch and look at every electronic and device.

Eventually, you and Jake make your way to the toilet paper.

But you get a two pack of sweatpants and a two pack of T-shirt.

You basically live in sweats when you're home.

Which Jake finds incredibly sexy and cute.

You go to the bakery section, and get muffins, carrot and chocolate cupcakes.

You and Jake get the toilet paper, the bottled water, and the seltzer water.

You and Jake also get frozen pizza, gluten free chicken nuggets (those are GOOD!), fish sticks, and you even get fruit and veggies.

You get the Cherry Barbecue chips, and you get two bags because they don't last too long between the both of you.

(If you haven't had these, try them. They're good, and they're Michigan made! I'm a Michigander, and I love these things. Cherry barbecue sauce is tasty if you do it right.)

You get granola bars, some chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal bites, even bread, and breakfast bites to have as a mid-morning snack.

You even make sure to get plenty of kibble, wet food, and doggy toys and doggy treats for Mario.

You also get a huge thing of both plain and peanut M & M's, cheese and caramel popcorn (Chicago or Detroit popcorn, depending on which city you are in-I just call it cheese and caramel corn), and Sander's sea salt caramels (another good thing, trust me a jar doesn't last too long in the house, because we ALL eat it, no matter how hard we resist).

You get coffee and vitamins, with a huge pack of Coke and Pepsi for Jake.

Jake pays for the purchase, and you go to the food court and get you and Jake a slice of pizza and some vanilla soft serve.

You put the pizza and soft serve in a box.

You and Jake arrive home, and you put the lunch in the kitchen.

You put the soft serve in the freezer.

You and Jake unload the car.

After you and Jake put everything away, you both change into your sweats, and you even wear one of Jakes really big graphic tees, with on of his hoodies over it.

Jake is in his sweats, graphic tees, and hoodie.

You and Jake have been together for two years, living together for one, so you two dress alike, even though you and Jake both work from home.

Jake literally pretends to be annoyed by it, but he finds this incredibly sexy deep down.

You both eat your pizza.

You grab two bottles of water, and you put some lemonade mix in it.

You both have lemonade.

You then eat your dessert.

After, you two try to watch a movie, but you both fall asleep on the couch.

Jake grabs a blanket, and he covers you both with a blanket.

You both sleep for the rest of the afternoon, and you order Chinese for dinner.

Because screw it, you're both WAY too lazy to cook tonight.

You read your book after you're done, and Jake plays a video game for a bit.

Eventually, you two fall asleep in bed later that night, but after you two have some adult fun time activities.

That's to help burn off lunch and dinner.

You and Jake wouldn't trade this for the world.

[dinoburger]

But the Moment Just Slipped Through My Hands

submitting to the time honored tradition of Expiration Date fics - slightly Science Party flavoured. I just wanted to put it out there, ik maybe I could stand to sprinkle in more funny speech mannerisms for both Engie and Medic - maybe this will be for another day. I also wanted to illustrate more of it but I could save that for the Ao3 version...

2k words - more focused on Medic and Engie but there's a dash of HeavyMedic in there, not exactly shipping focused

(title is from Gone in an Instant - I hope nobody is keeping track of how many times I reference Black Dresses in various work bc I'm sure it's starting to add up)

-🍞-

The smell of bread had a tendency to float in the air in almost every corner of their current base of operations – fated to be their last, so they assumed – but was even thicker now in the already stuffy laboratory. Slightly more sour than usual too, due to the effects of the teleporter.

After they’d reported their findings to the rest of the team, the resident medic and engineer had hurried back to continue their work, hoping for more answers. It was natural, to both of them, but in the lulls between furiously experimenting, exchanging notes and prompting each other with questions about their respective areas of expertise, Dell found himself staring at the doctor with a pang of guilt.

The medic, as was usual when presented with cataclysmic disaster, confronted it with a mixture of stern determination and delighted morbid curiosity. Regardless, impending doom weighed heavy on the shorter’s shoulders.

“You don’t feel hard-done by, spending your last days cooped up in this here lab?” he scratched his neck, leaning back against the bench’s counter.

“If we had more time, maybe – but this is where I am needed most, ja?” the medic scribbled down several more notes, before he spared the engineer a glance. “What about you?”

“So long as I’m not gettin’ in your way.”

“Oh not at all, not at all.” he shook his head, “Really, it’s unfortunate I could not have gotten to know you better sooner – you have a brilliant mind, Herr Engineer.” the doctor’s lips quirked into a small, earnest smile, which caught Dell off guard.

“Aw shucks, Doc.” he retreated into himself a bit. “Just a shame I weren’t brilliant enough to figure out this whole teleporter mess m’self.”

“Ach, you couldn’t have known” Ludwig waved off, “and besides that, some of the greatest discoveries of our time have come at no small cost. What is it they say…? You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.”

It was true that medical science had it’s share of horrors, but even so, the doctor felt his optimism slip.

“I must confess, I might have been a touch… sloppy. You would think if something was wrong, the team doctor would be first to pick up on it." he scolded himself. "I am so grateful for the freedom of being out on the field, pushing the boundaries of science and medicine but I’m afraid I have gotten ahead of myself.”

“Heck, I’d say you’d done a dang good job keepin’ us alive so far - ‘spite some of our best efforts.” Dell grinned, which got a laugh out of Ludwig.

“M’ just wonderin’ if you didn’t have nobody special you wanted to see before you, y’know. Bit the dust, so to speak. I can keep things tickin’ over here just fine for a while.”

“Someone ‘special’…? Oh, don’t tell me.” Ludwig snorted. “Those silly rumours about my supposed ‘wife’ are still floating around.”

“I was a tad curious.”

“I might as well give the game up now, she’s not real – never was. I have no time for such things, but ach, some of our comrades are very nosy. It started off as a simple joke to keep them off my back, I didn’t think it would stick, so I never bothered to refute it.”

“I getcha, that makes a hell’ve a lot more sense.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” the man tensed, the amused glint in his eyes exchanged for something sharper and wary.

“Well, when the fellas get gossipin’ about the lady-folk, you never have a whole lot t’ say. Figured if you really did have a spouse waitin’ on ya you’d be more eager to brag.” Dell observed casually.

The doctor released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “Ah, is that all?”

“Y’know I’m not one to pry, doc. I respect ya too much.”

“Much appreciated.”

Dell paused, picking his next words more carefully. “More surprised you didn’t wanna say your goodbyes to that big fella – two of you seem mighty companionable.”

“Herr Heavy, I assume? We do work closely together, but... it’s hard to say we’re much more than colleagues.”

“You kiddin’? The man’s crazy ‘bout ya – you should see how he lights up the moment he lays eyes on ya. ‘S really somethin’ else.” Dell risked a smile and a sideways glance, the doctor’s face going soft with fondness.

“Well… I suppose I owe it to him to see if I can work this out in time.”

The engineer’s throat seized, his playful smile fading. He’d almost forgotten what the stakes were here.

For the next few minutes, Dell put his head down and worked in solemn silence, the guilt crushing his lungs and forbidding him to talk. He would only will himself to when the doctor had another question, they needed to deliberate their next course of action or sort out notes between each other.

When they’d worked into another lull in their rhythm, the taller of the two eyed up the other.

“...You didn’t have anyone you wanted to see before we expire?” The doctor returned the question.

The engineer shook his head, still half buried in a toolbox. “Nope. Wouldn’t’ve signed up t’ be a mercenary if I did, all part ‘n parcel." he took a breath, considering just biting his tongue again, but somehow leaving Ludwig in the dark felt worse. "Those Mann brothers found me through m’ grandpa, us Conaghers’ve been workin’ with ‘em for decades.”

“Really now?” Doctor Ludwig’s eyebrows twitched up, this was news to him.

Dell knew deep down he wasn’t supposed to talk about this, as mercenaries they were all on a need-to-know basis, but with how the situation was unfolding he found the words spilling out with ease.

“Uh-huh. Lotta his work was kept under lock and key though, up until I joined their employ. Though I can't say I agree with how they got 'em to begin with... it feels like I get ta take part in my heritage, going over his blueprints, studying his notes – like I’m really steppin’ into his shoes ‘n followin’ his footsteps.” the softer, reverent tone he’d taken petered out into a sigh. “I was hopin’ I’d be able t’ finish what he’d started, put an end to this gravel war. Looks like there’ll have to be another generation of recruits after us.”

“It’s still just a job, mein friend, you make of it what you can – and I would say you have gotten more out of it than most would.” the doctor added.

“It ain’t just a job to me.” Dell’s idle tinkering stopped, head hung. “I got all these ideas in my head that I could make it mean somethin', I'd shake things up, I'd make it count - buncha fanciful nonsense." his words took on a harsher edge as he wound himself up.

Doctor Ludwig found himself pausing too, observing the other’s hunched shoulders and arms stiffly gripping the bench.

“What kinda legacy am I leavin’? Maybe I’m just daydreaming, thinkin’ I’m half the man Radigan was. Would he really’ve made a mistake this darn stupid? Doomed all’a his men like this? The hell do I think I’m doin’ out here?” he spat, cursing himself.

Part of him had always known, every force was met with equal resistance, wins and losses balanced themselves out. The RED and BLU mercenaries were nothing but cogs in a much larger machine, to ends he couldn’t fathom.

He kept glaring down at the counter through his goggles, as if raising his head would reveal a great, dark vortex hanging above, deeper than he could possibly see, filled with terrible, grinding machinery. It would use them all up like fuel and spit them out into the ether.

“To hell with legacy.”

Doctor Ludwig broke the tangible silence that had fallen.

“To hell with the Mann brothers, to hell with your grandfather.”

The Conagher bristled and turned on him, mouth twisted into an offended snarl, posture like a coiled spring. “Beg yer pardon?”

“We cannot dictate what the tides of time will choose to spare.” the doctor’s expression was equally grave. “So I say to hell with them all. Your work is worthy, because your life is worthy.” he clamped his hands over either of the engineer’s shoulders, taking the man by surprise.

“I don’t care what kind of man this Radigan Conagher was, I am honoured to have spent this life with his grandson.”

That sent his head spinning.

Dell choked, not sure if he was about to cry or laugh, a shaky grin spread across his features and a wheeze escaped his teeth.

“’P-preciate it, Doc.” he sniffed, flushed with the threat of tears.

Ludwig gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze before he released him, the tension melting out of the room. “Of course, let’s get back to it, shall we?”

The engineer nodded, turning from him again to regain composure. He pried the goggles up from his eyes just enough to rub the haze from them before returning them to position.

-

Hours bled into a blur, the self-assurance of being able to power through it to the end was starting to crumble. Dell could hardly see straight, neither man had slept since their initial discovery. He’d been the first to give out, going from using the lab bench to prop himself up to sinking entirely onto the cold, concrete floor in a heap. He peeled back his goggles, feeling the grooves across his nose and cheeks from being stuck to his face for so long – no doubt angry red marks by now, he imagined.

The stink of sour bread was getting to him, suffocating, he wanted nothing more than to lay down and let his senses slip away into unconsciousness.

He vacantly stared up at the doctor, who he wasn’t sure was still engaged in their research or just playing with chunks of bread.

Without thinking, he watched the man bring the piece he was holding to his mouth and bit down. He spluttered and spat it back out at once.

“What was the point o’ that?” the engineer snickered.

Ludwig mumbled incoherently, before shrugging, too bleary to come up with a good excuse.

“Surprised you can even tolerate the stuff at this rate, it reeks in here.”

“Ja, well…” the doctor interrupted himself with a groan as he joined the engineer on the floor, joints protesting his descent. “I have smelt a lot worse – try working with corpses and animals for hours on end. Or animal corpses, for that matter.”

Dell shuddered. “No thanks, partner.”

At least Ludwig found his disgust amusing.

It was strange being able to see the other’s face unobscured, the medic had gotten used to thinking of Dell as something vaguely insectoid with those large dark lenses. There were in fact, some pretty impressive red indents on his skin where the googles had been and a tan line to match.

“I jus… need a moment…” he huffed, letting his lids fall closed.

Doctor Ludwig murmured a faint agreement, tucking his own glasses into the pocket of his coat and slumping back against the bench on his side of the laboratory.

“...Doc?”

“Mm?”

“Y’ain’t… scared of disappearin’? Being forgotten?”

“Terrified. But it’s out of my hands.” his lips stayed parted as he chewed it over, consciousness swaying. “I can’t control what I will be remembered for. I can hope that my work will mean something in the face of humanity… that it will not simply be discarded as madness, but I cannot know. At least I can say I never limited myself, that I always… always sought for answers.”

"'S like y' said... if they can't see what it's worth then maybe humanity don't deserve it."

The doctor only hummed in response.

There was something painfully human in his sprawled out form that Dell had never quite seen before, peering out between heavy eyelids. He traced Doctor Ludwig’s sunken cheekbones in his mind, the dark lashes of closed eyes, brow relaxed – neither forming the serious scowl he was used to nor contorted in manic glee, a view clear of the usual thin frames that adorned his nose. He was used to having to peer up at him, with his line of sight only reaching the doctor’s chest.

He wanted to take that image to the ends of the earth, for what time he had left and what consciousness his exhausted mind would allow him.

Glad that the light in the lab was already dim, the engineer shifted to lie down, hissing when his helmet smacked the concrete – he’d forgotten he’d still been wearing it. He fumbled to get it off, not noticing the doctor too shifting to slide out of his coat.

“Here, support your head with this.”

“Huh? Oh, thank ya kindly.” Dell absently took the folded fabric while propped up on his elbows, shimmying to position himself just right.

He also took the opportunity to unfasten his prosthetic to set aside, along with his belt.

“Hey Doc… lemme return the favour.”

Medic squinted.

“I got a pillow y’ can use.” the engineer patted his belly with his remaining hand. “C’mere.”

He didn’t need any further prompting, the taller crawled over and flopped back against him. “Oof, my back is going to hate me for this.” he grumbled. “If you wake first, wake me up too.”

Comfortable wasn’t the right word. Nothing about how the cold floor seeped through the back of his clothes and the skin of his arms was particularly comfortable, even the way the medic rested his weight on his stomach was a little stifling, but he wouldn’t have dared to move.

He could smell the doctor’s scent in the coat tucked under his head, feel the gentle rhythm of his breath, hear the way it stirred in his chest.

“Let’s just stay like this, until the end. Hold me until it’s all over.” Dell wanted to plead.

“Copy that.”