#continuous steel beams

[sigalrm]

Kronprinzenbrücke by Pascal Volk Via Flickr: Von unten wirkst sie auf mich interessanter als von oben.

[raogbl]

The Beam is one kind of structural building block that transfers loads compelled along its axis to its supports like walls, columns, foundation, and much more. Bending is generally known as the mode of beam deflection.

Types of Beam

A beam can be classified into multiple types based on the type of support it provides, the load conditions, the cross-sectional shape, or the type of material it is made of.

Here are the brief details mentioned in the below assessment.

1. Single & Double Overhanging Beam 2. Simply Supported Beam 3. Fixed end Beam 4. Continuous Beam 5. Cantilever Beam 6. I- Beam 7. T-Beam 8. C-Beam 9. Concrete Beam 10. Steel Beam

Single & Double Overhanging Beam

Overhanging beams have their end portions extending beyond their supporting structures. Despite its simple support, this beam has the properties of both a cantilever beam and a simply supported beam. Overhanging portions can be either at one end or at both ends, which is known as a double overhanging section.

Simply Supported Beam

Simply Supported Beam is one kind of beam that has supported both ends consisting of pin support at one end & roller support at the other end.

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[prael]

A Bargain To Remember

Kinktember Day 13: Car sex

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist

"Finally, a face to the name."

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

The surprise is that she knows you.

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

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

"I would like to make a purchase."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do it." She's insistent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're going to manually record?"

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

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

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

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

"Where are we?" you ask.

"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.

"When are we?"

"2024."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like you wouldn't believe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Incredible," you breathe.

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

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

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

"I'll get started."

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐙𝐌𝐎𝐒 𝐀-𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a mermaid, it's part of you nature to bring the object of your affection gifts in the hopes of swaying their gaze. how do these pirates handle your onslaught of treasures?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nami, luffy, and sanji x mermaid!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k (.6k luffy, .4k nami, .6k sanji)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: mermaid!reader, continuation of this fic, requested

LUFFY

When you first began to court Luffy via your pod’s traditions, you quickly realized you’d have to improvise; Luffy had no clue what any of your actions meant, no matter how obvious you made it.

You brought your captain countless gifts, ranging from perfect pearls to slightly chipped sand dollars, and each time all he did was smile, thank you, and skip away to add your gift to his growing collection.

This time, however, you would make sure he understood, lest your sanity slip away. 

He sat criss crossed on his special seat, the mast of the ship, and you stood on the deck with a pretty pink and blue conch shell in hand. Hopeful eyes set on the man you admired, you failed to notice Robin coming up beside you. She hummed softly, startling you. “Oh, hi.”

“He’ll like that one.” Robin smiled cheekily. “But you want my advice?”

“Please.”

A chuckle left her as she looked on at her captain. “Be as straightforward as you can. Ask him what his feelings are.”

Blinking widely, you gazed back at Luffy. That surely seemed easy enough. Steeling yourself with a sigh, you nodded once and trudged forward, up the stairs to the foredeck and all the way up to where the masthead met the deck. Words rose to your lips and fell short, breath caught by the way the wind and sun sat around him like good friends. Luffy sat leaned back on his hands, eyes gently shut, easy smile on his face. You couldn’t dare to break such a moment, not till you nearly dropped the shell and let slip a little yelp. 

Luffy reacted instantly, tilting back his head to see what was the matter. He grinned upon seeing you, sending jitters through your belly. “Hey!” His eyes lowered to the conchshell tight in your grasp, jabbing a finger at it. “What’s that?”

He already knew it was for him; Luffy grew to look forward to your random gifts, treasuring them in his quarters and spending a little time each morning just admiring them. 

You glanced down at your gift, mustering up your courage and hoping beyond hoping that he’ll finally understand. “It’s for you. I found it this morning.”

Found was an understatement. You’d scoured the seafloor all morning to find something worthy of bestowing upon your love. Luffy beamed even brighter, if possible. “Really?” He slid off the mast and landed right in front of you. 

Luffy’s eyes shown like stars, his lips slightly parted as he ghosted his hands over the silky surface of the shell. You passed it on to his caloused hands, skin sparking as his fingers slid against yours. You stood transfixed upon him and how gently he handled the gift, turning it this way and that to see every nook and cranny, leaving no part of it unknown. A sharp ba-dump ba-dump echoed in your chest.

“It’s great,” he breathed, raising his eyes to peer into yours. Soft wasn’t a word one would use to describe Luffy. Brash and loud, yes. But not soft. Yet, there was this secret shadow of him that was softer beyond compare, only revealed in moments of deep distress… or right now, when you hand him a piece of your heart.

You felt a soft prod at your back, hand lunging back to catch a phantom wrist. You quickly released Robin’s hand, whipping around to spy her, but she was nowhere in sight. Puffing your cheeks, you swiveled back just to find Luffy leaning close over your shoulder, eyes squinted. “What’re we looking for?”

“N-Nothing.” Gazing into his face, you coiled your fists. “Luffy, I have a question.” 

Instantly, all his attention was on you, pleasantly awaiting. “Mhmm?”

“I… I was wondering… do—do you—do you like… tangerines?”

Luffy blinked a little blankly, before shrugging a shoulder. “Yeah, I like ‘em. What an odd question.” He ruffled up your hair and hurried off. “I’m gonna add this to my collection. Thanks a bunch!”

“Yeah… no problem.” Cupping yoru face in your hands, you groaned disparingly. Cracking open an eye, you found a single arm sprouting from the deck rail sporting a thumb’s up of comfort. 

NAMI

The gifts had been a constant before you and Nami made it official, but after? Nami was running out of room to keep all the nick-nacks you showered her with. She’d never tell you that though, the smile on your face each time you offered up a gift a treasure in itself.

So Nami settled for becoming the ship’s interior decorator, making it a project to find the best places to present your increasingly beautiful finds. 

Hanging from the wall in the galley was a giant piece of seaglass wrapped in fishing net. On the kitchen table an array of shells sat in a decorative bowl. Each of the boys had a whole sand dollar they were not allowed to touch on the their bed table.

It took you a few weeks to notice it, with the decorations growing over time, but when you did a surprised yet excited beam took you face. You noticed the solid pink clam shell you’d found a month ago among the table decorations, immediately whirling on Nami with a bright smile. “I found that, didn’t I?”

She was worried you’d be upset with her decorating, but now you coudln’t have looked happier. Nami’s cheeks reddened as she laughed, nodding. “You did. I thought I’d put some of your treasures around so we can all admire them.”

You shot up from the table and bounded off. “How many more are there? Did you hide them?”

Nami watched misty eyed, heart warm as the sound of your voice echoed back to the galley. Robin chuckled behind her hand, winking when Nami caught her eye. Nami blushed deeper and, flustered, got up to chase after you.

After that, she really set out to hide the gifts you brought her, tucking them between books and pans. Your search grew to be a calm sort of game. You would be lying in a hammock by Nami’s side, her reading a book aloud, when you lazily pointed to the bookshelf and murmured, “There’s the blue one I got last week.”

The whole crew even joined in after a while, and a board was set up in the galley to tally the scores. Even after four months of the treasure hide-and-seek, you came out on top with the most finds, and if someone dared to come close to taking your title? Well, you reminded them that you have two rows of razor-sharp teeth, and suddenly you were champion once again.

SANJI Sanji treasures each and every gift you bring him, to the point where his nose starts to bleed every other trinket. He doesn’t love the gifts a normal amount, okay. He will set them up all over the kitchen and randomly point them out to anyone nearby.

“Look at that one! She had to have dove down so many depths to get it. Ah~”

“Mosshead, get your slimy, bottom-feeder hands away from my seashells.”

Everyone knew to treat your gifts to Sanji with immense care, and that fact sent a wave of pride through your heart. You sat at the kitchen counter watching him cook, lining up the shells just to admire them, every once in a while making them into the shape of a heart and sending him into cardiac arrest. 

Oh, but the gift he’s most proud of? It’s the one he wears round his neck every single day.

The first pearl you brought him was a small thing, around the size of a pinky, and you handed it to him shyly while saying you couldn’t find a bigger one to display. Sanji barely breathed, rolling it in his palm and just thinking of how lucky he is to have you, that you would dive down into the sea just to find him the most beautiful treasures. 

Yes, it was part of your culture, so part of this was customary to you, but after each of his lovely reactions your gift-giving grew into more of a habit of the heart, eyes always peeled for any trinket Sanji might enjoy. So when you noticed how he held the pearl with such care, the milky white of it looking so nice against his palm, you got an idea.

Every single morning for the next two months you gathered pearl after pearl, keeping them in a little box under your bed. Sneakily, you even managed to take the original pearl from the ring box Sanji kept it in. The scare it gave him when he awoke, turned to his bed table, and his prized gift from his lovely mermaid was missing?? He was inconsolable, so much so that you rushed to give him his gift a day earlier, giggling as you cut off his apologies.

“It’s okay,” you beamed, handing him a small paper wrapped object. “I think this will fix it.”

You bounced on your heels as Sanji sat down at the counter and delicately handled the paper, revealing the pearl necklace within. For the longest moment, he said nothing at all, only staring down at it blankly. You ducked to catch more of his expression, worrying your lip between your teeth. “Do you like it?”

Sanji’s lips ticked upward, eyes holding so much affection you could feel it hit you as he raised his gaze. “I love it. Thank you, my love.”

You couldn’t hold back the magnitude of your smile, reached to help him put it on. As soon as the cool pearls hit his skin, he felt a sense of wholeness only you could explain. He ran a finger over the necklace, wiping away a trail of blood with his wrist, and turned to take you in his arms. 

From that day forth, he never took the necklace off. 

Sanji never wasted a moment he could show it off, unbuttoning the tops of his shirts so it was more visible. You were more than pleased by this, hanging off his arm as you swept through markets, casting every admiring woman a lethal glare before reaching to toy with the pearls around his neck.

Let’s just say the gift satisfied a more possessive part of your nature you did your best to hide from your lover.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[krazyyyyyy]

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

~

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

[ellieslovr]

mad love (e.williams)

a day in the life of you and your girlfriend, notorious killer, ellie williams.

-A/N:This is an excerpt for a longer series i’m working on, which takes place in that same universe. I hope you all like it, if so I’ll post the first chapter! important note at the end too :)

-CW:extreme blood kink,possessive ellie, choking, breeding kink, degradation, strap on sex, spit kink, finger sucking, oral fixation, body worship, praise kink, domesticity kink? (is that a thing?)

-i do NOT condone any of these things irl as a disclaimer, this is a work of fiction.

˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

It all happened in a blur. Ellie came home from her latest kill, still giddy with excitement. The adrenaline was pulsing through her veins, and she was practically bouncing off the walls.

She swings the door to the penthouse open and kicks off her steel toed boots, the same she had used to stomp her victim’s face into the ground.

She knew you’d scold her for getting blood on the hardwood you just cleaned, but she was too excited to care. She looks around for any sign of you, but all she sees is an empty room.

She checks the bedroom. Nope, not there. All of a sudden, she hears running water. She silently makes her way towards the bathroom, careful to not alert you. The door is unlocked, so she pushes it open quietly.

You’re humming contentedly to yourself in the shower, some pop song you’d heard on the radio.

With a devilish grin on her face, Ellie jerked the shower curtain to the side. Not expecting it, you scream bloody murder.

Ellie just stands there, beaming at you. Her eyes drop down to your naked body, and she wolf whistles. “Looking good babe.”

You roll your eyes. “You scared me half to death, you dick.” You reply. She smiles, reaching out to touch your cheek. You jerk away from her, and she frowns.

“Come on, gimme a kiss.” You shake your head and point to her clothes. “Take those off and get in here.” You tell her. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh? Are you trying to get dirty again?” She asks, laughing.

You whack her lightly on the arm as she strips off her clothes. “No, I just don’t want to use up all the hot water and leave you with none.” You reply.

She coos. “That’s sweet of you, babe.” She steps in the shower with you, letting the water run down her body. You take note of a few scrapes and cuts, ones that weren’t there earlier when she left.

“I take it they fought back?” You asked, a finger tracing one of the most prominent ones. She sighs. “Yeah, but I got him in the end.” She replied. You run your fingers through her wet hair, washing out some of the dirt.

“Who was it this time?” You ask. She turns around to face you. “Some rich dude who was involved with Joel’s crew back in the day. He fucked them over, didn’t pay back his debts. If it were me I would’ve killed him right there.” She groans in pain as you run your fingers over a bruise on her chest.

“Sorry.” You murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She continues. “I took care of it though, you know me, I hold grudges.” You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re still mad at me for beating you in Mario Kart.” She sticks her tongue out.

“Whatever, you cheated.” “I did not!” You exclaim, splashing her with water. She laughs, moving out of the way. You turn back around and start to lather yourself up with soap, when you feel Ellie’s hands start to wander.

“Babe?” You call her. “Hm, what’s up?” She replies, hands going lower. “What’re you doing back there?” You ask.

You know for a fact she’s smirking as she remains silent, moving her hand down to slap your ass.

“Ellie!” You scold, turning around. “What? Come on, you knew it was coming!” You shake your head with a grin.

“Hurry up and get washed up, I’ll start dinner soon.” You tell her. She nods and continues her routine. You step out of the shower a few minutes later, with her in tow. You’re able to dry off and avoid her wandering hands. “They have a mind of their own, babe!” She’d told you once.

Once you’re dressed, you step out into the kitchen and grab one of the cookbooks from the shelf. “Els, what do you feel like tonight?” You ask. She doesn’t reply. You turn around, looking for her. “Ellie?” You call.

She appears behind you suddenly, wrapping her arms around your waist. She buries her face into your neck and inhales, groaning softly. “Shit, Ellie..” You mutter, pulling her closer. “You smell so good, fuck. I missed you so much.” You grin, leaning into her embrace. “I missed you too.”

Her tongue darts out to run across your neck, making you shiver. She slowly kisses her way up, until she reaches your lips. At this point you’re desperate, so you pull her into a hungry kiss.

She moans into it, her hands wandering down to squeeze your ass. Her tongue slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. When she pulls away, you’re both panting. “Take me to bed.” You tell her, looping your arms around her waist.

She grins and lifts you into her arms, carrying you to the bedroom. You loved how strong she was, how effortlessly she could pick you up and carry you around.

You also loved the little things she’d do for you, like lifting heavy things even if you were perfectly capable. Her love language was acts of service, and it definitely showed in her daily life with you.

While your thoughts were wandering, Ellie placed you down gently onto the bed. She pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled up at her. “I take it you’re still on an adrenaline high?” You ask.

She nods, grinning like a maniac. “Mhm, you’re right. You gonna let me use you?” Her words cause you to blush. “Yes daddy.” You reply in a sultry tone.

Ellie’s pupils dilate. “Fuck. Let me take these off, baby.” She tells you as she begins to tug at your shirt.

You let her undress you, and she pauses for a moment, smirking up at you. “You didn’t put any panties on?” She asked. You blush. “They’re all in the laundry.” Ellie raises an eyebrow. “I just did the laundry.”

You groan, covering your face. “Shut up, you know why I didn’t put any on.” She laughs. “I know, sweetheart. Wanted me to have easy access, huh? Such a slut.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dripping onto the mattress at this point, and Ellie decides to take mercy on you. She slowly circles your entrance with two fingers, while using her thumb to massage your clit. “Ellie..” You moan softly, and she shushes you.

“Just relax baby, I’ve got you.” Her fingers move slowly in and out of you, making a shiver go up your spine.

“That’s my girl, so fucking wet.” She crooned into your ear. The wet squelching sounds of her fingers fucking you echoed off the bedroom walls, and Ellie grinned. “Aw, did this pussy miss me that much?” She asked, lips grazing your jawline.

Ellie’s thumb strokes slowly up and down your swollen clit, while holding you down to the mattress with her other hand. “Poor thing, she didn’t even touch you while I was gone? You must be so pent up.” The realization that she’s not talking to you, but to your pussy, makes your face grow hot.

It was degrading and demeaning, like you were nothing more than a toy, and you loved it. When a soft whimper leaves your lips, Ellie decides to take pity on you in her own special way.

You hadn’t noticed that she’d put the strap on, so you gasped when she pressed against you. You shut your eyes in anticipation and Ellie tuts in response, pushing into you.

She starts thrusting slowly, a low groan coming from the back of her throat. “You’re fucking dripping, baby. Yeah, this pussy knows who it belongs to, doesn’t it?” She asks, grabbing your face with one hand.

You nod, and she glares at you. “Say it.” When you take too long to respond, she slips two fingers into your mouth. “If you can’t speak properly, put your mouth to better use.” You do as she says, not wanting to push her any further.

She keeps a steady movement, her hips slamming into yours while your tongue swirls around her fingers. She pulls them out of your mouth suddenly, and spreads them apart in front of your face.

A thin string of saliva connects them, and she brings those same fingers to her mouth and wraps her lips around them. You moan at this, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts.

Ellie grunts and leans over you, green eyes piercing into yours. “Open.” She orders.

You let your jaw hang slack, and stare up at her. She opens her mouth, letting your mixed saliva trail down to her tongue.

She spits into your open mouth, and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her flannel. “Swallow.” She orders, eyes never leaving yours. You do so, and she hums in approval.

She starts to fuck you faster, her pace brutal and unforgiving. When you look away for too long, Ellie grips your throat.

“Fucking look at her baby, look at the way she swallows my fucking cock. No no, don’t you dare look away.” She grunts.

You moan loudly, nails digging crescents into her back. You feel a bit bad, since her back was pretty scratched up from her victim earlier. She didn’t seem to mind though, as she was currently groaning into your ear.

“God, you’re makin’ such a mess. You’re a dirty fucking whore, you know that?” She asks, reaching up to roll your nipple between her fingers. “Just for you.” You breathe, back arching in response to her touch.

She lets go of your nipple and squishes your cheeks between her free hand once more, forcing you to open your mouth.

She leaned in to kiss you, letting her tongue slide against yours. She bit down, causing you to yelp. You kept kissing her nonetheless, as the taste of blood invaded your mouth.

You moan louder at this, and Ellie kisses you harder. When she pulls away, she gives you a lazy smile, her eyes half lidded. “I should come home all bloody one of these days, yeah?” She asked. “Fuck you while I’m covered in it, you’d look so pretty.” She groans at the image inside her head, pounding into you faster.

She has a tight grip on your hips, and you’re absolutely certain you’ll have bruises in the morning, but you don’t care. Ellie speaks up. “Oh fuck, I can feel you clenching around me. You like that idea baby? You want me to come home straight from a kill and fuck you, let the blood stain your skin?”

You rake your nails down her back, hard enough to draw blood. She hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure, and continues to thrust into you.

“You’re a depraved fucking whore, nothing but a nasty slut. How long have you been waiting for my cock for, huh?” Ellie asked.

You whine in response, fucking yourself on her strap. “I’ll fucking give it to you baby, don’t worry. Anything you want princess, just say the word. I’d, fuck-” A particularly hard thrust. “I’d do anything for you.”

The weight behind her words and the emotion in her voice almost tipped you over the edge. You decide to ask her a question that’s been on your mind since the first time you found out who she really was. “Would you kill for me?” You ask her.

Ellie could’ve cum from just that question.

“Course I would baby, my girl gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants it.” She reaches down to pinch your clit between her fingers.

You moan as a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. “You spoil me too much.” You tell her. It’s half teasing, half sincere. She just coos down at you, speeding up. “Just take it baby.” She tells you.

You’re not sure whether she’s talking about her strap or her lavish treatment of you, but you decide not to question it.

“I meant what I said doll, anything for you. Cars, clothes, those expensive perfumes you like..” Ellie trails off, getting lost in the way you writhe and moan underneath her.

She takes in your soft skin, your pretty face and..how good you’d look carrying her baby. God, the thought alone could make her cum right then and there.

She’d considered it before, settling down, starting a family with you. She knew she’d have to change her ways for that, but she didn’t mind.

She meant it when she said she’d do anything for you. While the two of you did have a breeding kink, you’d never really explored past that initial conversation.

Ellie decides to test the waters. “Fuck, m’ gonna make you such a pretty little housewife. Gonna come home from work and fuck you on top of the same table we eat from, we’re gonna do such nasty shit-“ You sob, thrusting your hips to meet hers. “Yes.” You choke out.

Bingo. She’s got the green light, feels like she’s won the damn lottery.

She continues on. “Yeah, you like that baby? Wanna be my wife? You gonna let me fuck a baby into this pretty pussy? Gonna let me make you a mama?” You cry out, you’re so close, and she laughs condescendingly. “So fucking cute.” A kiss to your lips. “You want me to breed you that badly, baby? Stuff you full of my cum? The sneer in her tone was undeniable.

“Yes Ellie,keep me stuck here with you, bind me to you forever, please daddy-“

Your cries are cut off by Ellie, who lets out a loud guttural moan. She cums onto the strap, soaking your chest and stomach.

You follow soon after, a mixture of soft moans and pleas leaving your throat.

After a few moments of silence broken by occasional heavy panting, Ellie manages to catch her breath. “That was- fucking incredible.” She murmured against your chest.

You laugh. “It was.” You’re absentmindedly stroking her sweaty hair, trying to find the energy to get up and go to the bathroom.

When you finally stand up on wobbly legs, Ellie’s right behind you. However, her legs are shaky too, so she’s not much better off. The two of you hobble to the bathroom, holding onto the wall for support.

Once you finally reach it, Ellie turns on the water to start a bath. She dumps some soap in, and turns back to face you. “C’mon, I’ll help you in.”

You lean against her once you’re both in the tub, and sigh contentedly. “You planning on actually getting clean this time?” You ask her.

She presses her face into your neck to hide her smirk. “Maybe.” She replies. You laugh and she lifts her head up, grinning at you.

You take a moment to take it all in. How despite everything you and Ellie had been through, you were still here. She was still here. You bump your forehead against hers.

“Hey.” You murmur. She gives you a toothy grin and brushes your noses together. “Hey.” You reach up and caress her cheek, and she closes her eyes.

“I’m really glad you’re okay. I love you.” You tell her.

You’ve told her this tons of times, it shouldn’t be anything new. However, she stills get choked up every time you say it.

“I love you too.” She replies, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew she’d be there by your side.

_________________

Thanks for reading this far if you have! I wanted to drop where i got my inspiration for this from. It’s from a book by Eden Emory, in the club petale series. Inspiration for Ellie’s personality comes from Avery, a character in the third book. I implore you all to read that book series, it’s genuinely one of my favorites. Please heed the tws though!

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Sacrifice

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex(if i ever write protected know that my acct has been hacked), soulmate color au, hinted character death…, angst, somewhat established relationship–you’ll see, soft sex with logan with a few primal undertones, biting, oral(m&f receiving), a lot of mentions of blood due to the reader’s mutation, light hair pulling, depictions of violence, i think that is all lemme know if i missed anything!

summary: y/n is an omega-level mutant who finds herself on Xavier’s doorstep after an unfortunate encounter. cursed with the knowledge that whomever she loves will one day die by her hand, her heart tries its best to bury itself upon seeing color when she meets logan but the fight proves to be fruitless. 

word count: 8K

logan howlett x female!reader

Heavy lids and a limp in your right leg, you continued the trek up on the side of the winding road covered by abundant fir trees. The cold was biting and your breath fogged in front of you as you hobbled up the hill. You tried to self soothe by hugging your frigid limbs occasionally breathing heat into balled up palms. 

It was agonizing.

Every time you brought your hands up to your face to warm them up, your body shivered at the proximity of the dried blood on your hands. Your fangs extended, gently touching the sides of your tongue before you tried to retract them and your eyes rolled back with a nauseating euphoria rushing through your veins. Your breathing increased, turning into short pants as you ignored the innate feeling to hunt. 

To feed. 

You could sense every animal around you and your limbs twitched in a wicked need to hone in on their scent and drain them of their lifeforce. You needed to feel the luxurious sensation of their blood filling up and sliding down your throat feeling your power rush back to you. 

Your body betrayed you. 

There was a controlled thrashing of your head and limbs as it tried so desperately to lead to where to feed but you knew you needed to enact discipline otherwise Weapon X would forever have the final word. You’d be nothing more than an experiment gone wrong, a mutant turned haywire. You’d be the beast that everyone thought you were before the experimentation. A monster. 

Forced to haunt the shadows as any real sighting of you would invoke distress and trepidation among humans and mutants alike. You were virulent and Hell would freeze over before anyone let you believe otherwise. You stared down at your feet as you ignored the call to feed hoping that if you focused on the steel tips of your boots hard enough you could drown out the hunger.

Raising your head to see if your destination was in your sights, you could see the massive brick building with lights surrounding it as if you were about to enter heaven. Due to your fatigue, the lights were bending and stretching from the main bulb making it look like strobes were beaming out of the building. You laughed to yourself, tears brimming in your eyes as you felt relief wash over you. You tried to run but your powers were severely frenzied. You were exhausted, completely drained by the experiment and your mutations were in such an overdrive that if you tried to access them you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself. 

Sighing, you took another step forward before being completely incapacitated by your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was like someone set you ablaze. Your vision was blurry but it was the only time you saw glimpses of color. Flashing images of the experiment and your current surroundings clouded your vision in a hazy red as you furiously tried to wipe the images from your eyes. 

Continuing to walk through the excruciating affliction you were experiencing you tripped over your own feet, your knees hitting the pavement with such a force that the gravel and rock that was scattered upon it lodged itself into your skin through your jeans. You doubled over in pain letting the searing agony bore holes through your anatomy. 

Maybe I should’ve stayed. 

You feared that you were transforming into the rapscallion demon everyone was terrified of you becoming. You tried to stay upright dragging your knees across the road feeling blood pool into the fabric of your jeans. It seemed colder out now, goosebumps covering your skin and your head longing for the warmth of something that wasn’t just your hair. With every raise of your legs, the weather bitterly reminded you of the rocks scraping your skin, letting the blood pool only to be healed when your opposite leg touched the ground again. 

The entrance of the mansion wasn’t far and you were finally close enough to feel the warmth of the streetlight envelop you but it wasn’t enough to defrost your frozen skin. You wished you could see the colors of the building, feeling that maybe you’d be more motivated to reach the gates and ignore the enervation if you could see all the different hues of the building in the budding colors of dawn. With the red hue in your vision fading, so did your vision itself. You fell onto your hands and dragged your body as close as you could to the front gates before collapsing on the ground, your right hand wrapping gingerly around the iron bars. 

~*~

When you awoke, you were in a lab again. 

Fear. Unbridled fear. 

It encapsulated you. The wires placed on your chest and head, the IV bag hanging on your right side with a small needle stuck in your cubital fossa was all too familiar to what you endured only days before. The bright lights over you only continued to petrify you in your colorblind state. Everything looked so sterile in here which was most certainly an upgrade from the Weapon X facility but you couldn’t shake the terror. 

Sitting up from the table, you realized you were naked, covered only by a sheet. Even though fear rattled your body, you knew you needed to calm down to get a better grasp of where you were at.

Did I do all of that just to get captured again?

Gently taking the IV needle out of your arm, you scanned the room looking for any cameras but you found none. Calming down your breathing, you took off the jelly pads that were stuck to your skin and the monitor on the left side of you stopped the routine beeping of your vitals. You slid yourself off the table and wrapped the sheet around your body like a Greecian toga. After knotting the fabric over your right shoulder you heard faint footsteps clicking on the tile floor and you smelled two bodies. Staring down at the floor you tried to focus on who they were debating whether or not they’d be a threat. As you closed your eyes you heard the light whirring of wheels coming down the hallway outside of the room you were in, your breathing increased ready to be on the defense of whatever was on the other side of that door. 

You walked behind the table you were laid out on moments before, your bare feet sticking to the tile and echoing your steps in the aseptic room. You wanted to give yourself an advantage with a divider if you needed one but something was telling you that you needn’t be so skittish. Your fangs were bared, face contorted in mulishness just in case you needed to flee. As the silver, circular doors breathed out compressed air and opened, a bald man in a wheelchair entered. A slender black woman with short, feathered white hair highlighted with black streaks walked alongside him. 

Your chest heaved in uncertainty and with your body still on the defense, you hissed at the two. You were unaware of the new mutations you had but your eyes changed color, a black rim engulfing most of your sclera leaving little white to show, with a vibrant, luminescent red ring covering your irises. Your fangs flashed in a snarl as you were desperate to save yourself, terrified that you’d be another test. 

The two were oddly calm across your frightened form and seeing their demure nature, it knocked your body into calming down. Your eyes return to their natural state, a vibrant hue that wasn’t natural. Your eyes were a sight, hypnotic to most as the jewel-toned color became the focus point of your face. As you calmed down you realized your fangs didn’t retract. It was usually a passing thought and you were able to blend in with society as best as you could but they weren’t budging. Running your tongue across your top row of teeth you realized that it wasn’t just your canines anymore, but now your incisors were sharpened as well. Your eyes widened slightly in horror, afraid of yourself now. 

“We’re not here to hurt you, but to help.”

You looked around the room looking to see who it was that spoke. 

“Look forward.”

“Who are you people?”

“I’m Charles Xavier. Ororo, but most call her Storm. You’re safe here. Nobody took you elsewhere, you made it to the mansion. I must say though, you made quite an entrance leaving us to find you bloodied and bruised on our doorstep.” 

You bowed your head, ashamed that you couldn’t even walk to the door but left for someone to find you. You were embarrassed that they found you in the state that they did, hoping that they didn’t view you as a brute freak splattered in dried crimson and sweat. 

“I didn’t know where else to go. I tried. I tried to make it past the gates but I was in so much pain. My body gave out on me, please forgive me. For the state in which you found me and for how I just greeted you. I’m not in my right mind.” 

Charles nodded at you with a tight-lipped smile and motioned for you to follow the pair. 

“Come. We have much to discuss.”

Storm handed you folded sweats for you to put on and waited for you to get dressed. As you zipped yourself up in the hoodie, you followed closely behind her with your hands shoved in your pockets and your hood hiding your head. 

~*~

Sitting across Charles at his desk, Storm was leaning against the wall behind you, the door to Charles’ study left ajar. 

“So, my dear what’s your name?”

“Omen.”

“Your birth name?”

“Y/n.”

“So Y/n, why Omen?” 

You sighed, closing your eyes to relive all of the memories of your past.

“Always been a bad omen. People were afraid to look at me, understandably so, I’d be a little freaked out by someone with eyes like these. But…it stemmed from other mutants. I could hide really well amongst humans but when other mutants found out what I am, and what I can do, they treated me like the plague. Like I was a death sentence, they feared me so in turn I fed off of that. I, a portent foreshadowing of mortality, was forced to walk alone in an effort to save myself and those around me. If you see me, well, a bad omen might’ve been sent your way. And that’s how-”

You paused, your nostrils flaring for barely a second.

Someone else was in the room now. 

You didn’t even bother to turn around, you continued to stare at Charles not ready to confront another introduction. You mouthed to Charles. 

Who is that?

“Y/n, this is Logan. Logan this is Y/n, or ‘Omen’ as we’re learning.” 

There was a pit that settled in your stomach, a foreboding that was tantalizing and horrifying all in the same breath. You were fighting an internal war between turning around and hoping that whoever Logan was would leave the room, assuming that he was the reason for this feeling brewing within you. You stayed stiff in the chair, not daring to move. You were hiding your eyes behind your hair as if Logan could see right through you and make the same judgments as everyone else. You hung your head as you heard his footsteps get closer to you before he sat right in front of you on the corner of Charles’ desk. 

“You know it’s rude to not say hello.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath hoping that your words wouldn’t fail you. 

“Hello.”

“Normally, you look at someone when you greet them.” 

Raising your head, that feeling in your gut intensified and as you opened your eyes to properly greet him suddenly the world around you gained a vibrance that you never had the luxury to experience. Your eyes widened and you frantically looked around you as experienced the color of the furniture come to life. Looking down at your hands, you notice the color of your warm skin come to life, no longer bound to the greyscale of before. When you raised your head again you looked to Charles, then back around to Storm before landing on Logan, your eyes wide with shock, adoration, and a bit of fear. Logan was looking at you with the same intensity and suddenly you didn’t feel so weary of looking at him anymore. 

“Hello, Logan.” 

Your brow furrowed, he looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite discern yet, but you didn’t have a hunch that it would be anything negative. Charles leaned forward and Storm came up closer to understand what was happening between you two. 

“Y/n, what’s happening?”

“I-uh, I can see.”

“See what?”

“Color. I can see color.” 

His voice was low and gravelly, it had a sweeter tone to it now.

“So can I.”

Before you could relish in the feeling of finally finding your soulmate, it was quickly shrouded by the fear of what having a lover meant for you. There was a more sinister meaning to your name besides being completely repudiated by all aspects of society. Your mutation meant many things, but in finding your soulmate you’d have to blood bond them which meant dependency for life. The bond would be completely inseparable and invasive. 

It frightened you. 

You’d feel every emotion, every pain, every suffering. You’d be unstoppable together but if ever separated you’d be an extreme danger and with all things considered you were terrified if the experimentation amplified that. You didn’t want to be the killer they made you out to be. You stood up, overwhelmed by the situation.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I need to go. I don’t want to make things worse, I don’t wanna hurt anyone again.”

“Y/n, please. We can’t help you if we don’t know everything. I’m not going to fish through your mind. Sit, please.” 

You glanced at Logan and then back to Charles before speaking again. 

“You were saying that if people saw you that meant a bad omen was sent your way, what did you mean by that?”

“It’s part of the reason why they snatched me up.”

“Who?”

“Weapon X.”

There was a bitter silence that filled the room and you didn’t want to relive it, but you had to. You needed to. If you were to overcome these feelings, this internal war within you, you had to face it. You waited for someone to speak but the silence remained so you broke it resentfully. 

“My mutation makes me an omega-level mutant, the government likes that. They like having murder puppets at their disposal. A genetic war machine, a hitman for hire I was. Weapon X caught wind of my efficiencies in execution and promised me an upgrade I couldn’t refuse. They told me that this experiment they did on me would make the mutation adamantine. They packaged it up in a pretty box, topped with an elaborate pink bow and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I felt useful for once like I finally mattered and had a purpose. I was a natural born killer so might as well stop fighting it, right? I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Tears were beginning to brim at your waterline as you wrestled with your feelings of dejection and the perpetual pit of undesirability. You just wanted to matter and you did, but only as a murderer. 

“You see I was able to control the hunger before, practically ignore it but after the experiment it was insatiable. They put me on a medical table and injected me with some sort of serum but my body, my mutation harnessed it like a bloodthirsty demon that spent years caged in civility. They did what they wanted to do with me, they made me the monster everyone thought I was, the killing machine they needed. What they failed to consider though was if I would comply once the experiment was completed.” 

Tears were now slowly falling from your eyes as you recounted the memory of days before. How rabid and vicious you were. The blind rage and wolfish animal you’d become.

“I slaughtered them. While they completed the transfer, they wanted to wipe my memory–make me a murderous android and that’s not what I was promised. I was promised unbridled control over my abilities. So as I lay on that table, wires coming out of all my limbs, I ripped them out, an intemperate bloodlust surging through me.”

You stared down at your hands imagining the fresh blood that was once splattered all over them and how delicious it felt to be in a power like that. 

“All I had to do was look at them and I could make their blood do whatever I wanted. Hemokinesis, they were completely at my will. Crimson splattered the facility as I ripped through their veins or made weapons of their insides. I had enhanced strength and speed now making me a fiendish nightmare. I ate every bullet, laughing at their futile attempts to stop me or my now regenerative abilities. They created a monster and now they wanted to bury it. Very Frankenstein of them except like the creature created by Mary Shelley, I lived. In a more violent nature but I lived.” 

You swiped your tongue over your teeth before bringing your pointer finger to the side of your mouth to stretch the skin and show your fangs. They were sharper now and you were starting to prefer it. As you recounted the events of earlier this week, you almost stopped feeling sorry for yourself and stopped feeling so scared as you came to terms with how powerful you’d become. 

“The mutation was always blood manipulation but never at this intensity. I had heightened senses, or bloodsense as I like to call it.”

“Why bloodsense?”

“Well, it’s not like an animal. I can’t smell people for their scents but I can smell their blood. It gives me access to their location, a new presence, and even their emotional state. Which is why the government found me useful, I was better than a sniper scope.”

You sighed. 

“Problem now was, I was hungry. Normally, I would’ve controlled myself, controlled the thirst, but whatever they did to me I couldn’t help it. Whoever was left and not entirely splattered into pieces, I sunk my teeth into. I can’t describe the euphoria I felt draining them. I would heal before but at a slower rate, now if I feed it’s almost instant.” 

Looking around the room, you thought before you spoke. 

“After I felt the threat was gone and I returned to my body, I ran. I couldn’t believe the massacre in front of me, I had never been unhinged like that and it scared me. I heard about this place before through them, they wanted to shut it down, eradicate all the mutants here.” 

Logan spoke and it startled you slightly. 

“So, you were gonna be a mutant killer.” 

“Not exactly. I thought I could con them into making me more powerful and running away to warn you guys, to help. I suppose I did but not in the way I intended” 

You laughed, finally finding some humor in the unfortunate reality you were sitting in. 

“On the way up here I was able to fight it. The urges. I think at the moment I was just so new and so frightened of what was happening to me that I spiraled out of control. I don’t think I need to feed on people I just need access to some type of blood. I was trying to train myself to focus on the animals on the journey up here. I think I can do it just with some more practice.” 

You fidgeted with your fingers before looking up at Charles doubt suddenly flooding your mind. 

“Do you think I’ll be of use here? Or am I just a lost cause?”

Logan piped up first. 

“I think Dracula here will be of great use to us, just gotta give her some adjustment time.” 

Your eyes darted up to Logan, feeling as though the comment was more than a joke but contemptuous. You could sense the amusement coming off of him knowing that he riled you up a bit. Rejection flooded your brainwaves as you thought about how cruel other mutants had been towards you. You’d think your “soulmate” would’ve behaved a little differently but it seems no extenuating circumstances would ever be granted for you. 

“Logan!” Storm scolded. 

“No mutant is ever a lost cause, y/n. We all can learn and be helped. We just have to be willing, which you seem more than apt to do.” 

You nodded, the tears coming back to your waterline as you felt acceptance. Genuine acceptance for you, not just your mutation but for you. 

“We’ll get you training by tomorrow. Time mustn’t be wasted. Logan show her to the open room across the hall from yours, I need to speak with Ororo. We’ll have y/n settled in by this evening.”

Logan cocked an eyebrow at Charles before looking at you motioning you to follow him. You stood up from the chair, following oddly close behind him, unable to control the intrinsic need to be near him. 

“You always walk this close?”

“Not usually. You’re an outlier.” 

He chuckled somewhat amused by your response. His gait held such confidence and it was something that you wished you had yourself. Maybe the bond wouldn’t be so bad, maybe you could learn from him, and maybe the more you learned about him and his powers the less you would have to feel about your interactions. The mansion was so massive that you thought the walk to your new home would never end. Logan broke the silence between you two right before you reached the door to your room. 

“Soulmates, huh?” 

“Guess so.” You felt heat rising to your face somewhat embarrassed by the admission even though it was true. 

“Pretty cute for a killer.” 

You were stunned. You were at such a loss that your mouth opened and closed searching hopelessly for words that would never form. Logan smirked at your silence and turned around to walk into his room. 

“If you need anything just come knock. If I’m not there I’m sure you can sniff me out.” 

You shook your head, finding the way that he spoke to you unbelievable but you also couldn’t deny that you found it somewhat humorous. You were glad that he was able to make light of something that you were so hardened about. Turning around to enter your room, you were met with a bare dorm. Sheets and simple furniture you were determined to make it look more like home during your time here. Lying down on the bed you stared at the ceiling taking in all of the colors around amazed by the simplest of hues.

~*~

You adjusted quite nicely, acclimating to the rules of the X-men relatively easily. They had simulated training which helped you hone in on your new abilities and unleash them when necessary. You were careful not to overexert yourself so you could limit your blood intake but oftentimes you needed to satiate the hunger in the dead of night when no one could be the wiser, running out into the trees and finding small animals to feed on, a deer if you were lucky. 

You didn’t feel so ashamed anymore and you honestly felt lucky for the first time in your life. You felt like you had a family, a home, but most importantly that you belonged. Walking in the front door, you were carrying a bulk of grocery bags in both of your hands. You finally had the time to purchase some items for your room. As you pushed through the door, Logan happened to be walking down the hall and made his way over to you holding his hand out to grab some of the bags. 

“Jesus, you know you can ask for help around here.” 

“Didn’t wanna bother anyone. I also didn’t think I was gonna buy so much shit.” You laughed. “It’s all going in my room if you wanna follow me.” 

“Think I’ll just stand here and hold them actually.” 

You smiled and walked to your room with Logan not far behind. As you opened your door you dropped all the bags at the foot of your bed relieved to have the weight off of your fingers. Logan did the same before placing a hand on his hip and looking around the room. 

“You want some help putting this stuff up?” 

“That’d actually be great, thank you Lo–Logan, sorry.”

“Y’can call me Lo, bub. Call me whatever you want.”

You felt meek in his presence but were ultimately glad that he gave you permission for a nickname. The two of you had grown fairly close with one another over the last few months and you were elated. There was something so pure and unfeigned about the connection that was forming between you two that you forgot about all the horrors of a soulmate. You were more than overjoyed to have found your other half and them not be fearful of you, even though you tried to seem nonchalant about your feelings. 

You were seen by Logan you were just trying to find a way to fully see him. He was hard to crack but as the days went by he was loosening up more and more and it seemed like you were privy to sides of him no one else was. There were urges within you that were becoming harder to control and the urge to bond with Logan was difficult to ignore. There was this innate hunger that was growing within you and you knew it was a partial side effect of the experimentation but you also understood the possible danger you would be even without the upgrade in your powers. 

When you looked at him, an insatiable hunger caped your entire being and you wanted nothing more than to have him your way. To make him need you the way you needed him. To incapacitate him with desire. You wanted to watch him dissolve into nothing underneath you and dominate your body with the next breath. 

You watched his muscles stretch and relax delicately underneath his skin as he grabbed the items out of your bags, holding them up to inspect before laying them on your bed waiting for direction from you. The only direction that clouded your mind was how you could get him to lay you on the bed. Your brain fogged with desire; you had no shame as your eyes stayed fixated on him. 

“Take a picture it’ll last longer.”

“I think I prefer the real-life option.” You smiled at him and you lost the meekness that you felt earlier. Something settled in your bones while he was standing in your room with you that let you breathe a little easier. Logan was safe, protective, and yours whether he liked it or not. You tried to hide the verity of your emotions but Logan had caught on within the first few weeks of spending time with you. He just preferred the entertainment of making you squirm and letting you think that you had it under control. 

Staring at your barren walls you were trying to envision the plan for your room before Logan’s voice brought you from your thoughts. 

“The Downward Spiral? Aren’t you a little young to be a Reznor fan?”

“Never too young to enjoy music, plus aren’t you a little old to know about anything other than Cash and Big Band music?” You cocked your brow waiting for his face to fall at your jab and when it did you let out a hearty laugh. 

“Where do you want it?”

“You can just roll it up, I wanna get a frame for it. Don’t wanna put holes in it. But I do need help hanging up this tablecloth. I’m gonna make it like a short curtain, you’ll see.” 

Taking the lace fabric out of the bag, you stretched your arms as far as they could go before deciding that you had plenty of fabric to drape it like you wanted. Turning around to Logan you pointed to the piano stool you had shoved under the keyboard in the corner of your room. 

“Can you bring that over?”

As Logan brought the stool over you grabbed a few push pins from the container on your bedside table and swaddled them in your hand. Stepping on the stool you stretched your arms to reach the center point of the wall above your window and made a preemptive hole before nestling the fabric against the wall and securing it with the pushpin. 

“Why don’t you let me help you?”

“I got it! Just make sure the stool stays steady, please.”

You did have it until you didn’t. 

You were getting ready to put the last push pin in and even though your shoes were gripping the stool you felt somewhat unsteady about your position. Stretching to get the last pin in the wall, the stool wobbled and you almost fell and would’ve if Logan didn’t catch you. His large hand cradled your waist while his other hand landed on the curve of your ass before swiftly moving down to your thigh and his foot stepping on the leg of the stool steadying it again. 

A surge of heat blasted through your body and simmered as Logan continued to hold your body steady while you shoved the last push pin into the wall. Stepping down, you turned around to face Logan getting ready to thank him before you realized the proximity of your bodies. He towered over you, and the energy that radiated off of him was virile but oddly soft. There was a gentle heat being shared between your bodies and as you looked up at him you felt so demure beneath him, ready to just give your all to him. 

There was a hesitance before you spoke, afraid that the vibration of your voice in the stillness would ruin the moment. 

“Thank you.”

“Told you you should’ve let me do it.”

“But then you wouldn’t have been able to catch me. I think we both win here.”

“Oh, you like that? Me saving you?”

“Think I could get used to it, yeah.”

Your faces were inches from each other now, lips begging to be against each other but there was a restraint coming from the both of you. Like magnets on the wrong side, neither one of you wanted to give in but your bodies exhorted the desire brewing to be acted upon. Logan’s hands found purchase around your cheeks, cupping your face and breathing out a small “fuck it” before he caught your lips in an impassioned kiss. Your arms hastily wrapped around his neck, your fingers pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. Your hands soon traced to cup his face before resting on his built chest, your fingers toying with the chest hair that peeked out of his wife beater. 

A low growl rumbled in his throat as you bit his lip and pulled the skin away from the warmth of his mouth. Logan’s hand roamed down the curves of your body before guiding you to the edge of your bed where you flopped into the sheets and scooted to the middle of the bed to take in his form. There was a lecherous famine boiling in your bones and you looked at Logan with such an intensity it sent a shiver through his limbs. When your eyes grazed down his body you landed on the tent forming in his jeans and the thought of what lurked beneath the denim had your pussy clenching around air. 

Logan crawled over you and placed a few kisses near the sweet spot on your neck which had you rolling into him reveling in the feeling. As he hovered over your body he brought his knee up in between your thighs pressing a delicious amount of serene pressure against your core. Logan kissed all over your body and you wanted to continue the euphoria but hesitation was eclipsing your desire. Logan could sense you retracting and scanned your features to try and understand. 

“Listen, we don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, bub”

“No, no–I want to. It’s just.” You trailed off and Logan raised his brows waiting for you to continue. 

“It’s just, if we do this, you’re bound to me until death.” 

“You saw color when you saw me right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the issue?”

You almost wanted to sabotage this. To tell him the worst of the worst and advise him to run away, pretend that you never existed. But you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to save yourself the heartbreak and tragedy, you feared love was painting over that panic leaving you to wrestle with the inevitable sacrifice you’d have to make. 

“My mutation binds us, intertwining our fates, and weaving us into one. It’s more than soulmates it's a blood bond. It happened with my parents but their circumstances were different. They didn’t choose a life of government executions and eradicating villains, there was no imminent threat of death.” 

His brow furrowed waiting for you to finish. 

“It’s innate–an irresistible need to claim you, mark you as my own. It’s a frenzied scene of passion and with a soulmate, the cauldron of emotions threatens to control me. Once this is done, we are bound beyond flesh. Our minds merged, and every memory–cherished or forgotten will be laid bare. I’ll feel every pulse of your thoughts, every feeling that ravages your soul and you, mine. You will become my life.”

“I’m not really seeing a problem here, sweetheart.”

“The problem is death. With this bond, every wound, and every pain will be felt as if it were our own. Our own agonies amplified. And God forbid if one of us dies, we will feel every second of that excruciating agony. There’s no autonomy. There is no freedom in loving me and should we ever be separated I–we’d be defenseless Logan.”

You paused, finding the courage within yourself to bear the worst. 

“There’s something else. My eldritch cross to bear.” 

“What’s that?”

“I will slowly kill you.”

His brows unfurled and he brought his hand up to your cheek as you closed your eyes with the confession. 

“Maybe I won’t. Maybe your mutation will counter mine and you’ll be able to regenerate fast enough before my influence roots. Or perhaps it’ll just take longer for you, but death came for my father and he understood the sacrifice he was making by loving my mother. He cherished and learned to love the reality he’d have with us, for us. I just don’t know if I can be that selfish.”

With tears threatening to spill you looked up at Logan, the fear you were swallowing for months now coming to the surface. 

“I don’t wanna kill you, Lo.”

Logan sighed and moved to sit next to you grabbing your hand in his, tracing over the grooves of your palms. 

This was it. 

You found him and you lost him all within a confession of something you couldn’t control. Your powers ameliorated for destruction you were left to bathe in the aftermath and be forced to solitude once again.

Taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips to kiss, he finally spoke. 

“Sweetheart, nothing can kill me.” 

Your head turned to face him, your face contorted in confusion before he continued. 

“And if loving you brings about my end, then God dammit it’ll be a death worth the sacrifice. I’ve lived lifetimes y/n, don’t deny yourself to save me. Ion need saving, I need you.”

Beneath the watery clouds of tears that glossed over your eyes, stars and hearts rested within them as you processed Logan’s words. There was no fear, no hate, no promise of abandonment from him, and while on instinct it scared you, you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity in his arms. This was more than seeing color, this was a testament to souls spending lifetimes to find each other, to reignite their flame and rival the brilliance of stars. 

The tears that fell were no longer out of fear but admiration and joy. Moving to straddle his lap, you cradled his face memorizing his features before playing with a few strands of hair that were falling on his forehead. 

“Why you crying, bub?”

“Just happy I found you.”

Placing an ardent kiss on his lips, you locked them between yours for a few moments savoring the sanctuary you had found in him. Pulling away you pecked his lips a few more times before staring into his eyes that shimmered with autumn hues of adoration for you. 

“You still want me, baby?”

“Always gonna want you, sweetheart.” 

You smiled before kissing him again and uttering a soft “lemme make you feel good.” before peppering kisses across his skin. The scruff of his facial hair tickled your cheek as you freckled kisses along his neck, hitting the sweet spot under his ear that had him sighing soft moans into the air. Trailing your hands down his chest they rested on his abs before you traced the outline of his belt buckle with your fingertips. Looking up at Logan you silently asked for permission before continuing your movements and he granted you sanction over him by wrapping his thumb and forefinger around your chin to bring you in for a kiss. 

Rolling your hips into his, you sighed fervidly into him feeling him tent beneath you. Pulling away from his lips, you palmed your hand over the stretching denim encasing his lap and locked eyes with him. You couldn’t quite explain it but you wanted to watch every emotion of his unfold in front of you. Eyes fixated on him like a silver screen projecting your favorite film, you relied on your sense of touch to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans. Eyes falling to his chest you noticed his breathing becoming heavier as if he was holding himself back. 

Snaking down his body, you rolled his pants down with you just enough so that his cock could spring free from its confinements. He was picturesque in every sense of the word. His cock was the perfect length and was nested in a bed of untamed umber hair, his tip a flesh rose color that was leaking arousal.

Licking your hand, you brought it down to wrap around his length, the tip of your thumb and middle finger barely touching and you stroked up and down. Sliding your head down to the base, you flattened your tongue and licked a fat stripe up to his tip, dribbling a bead of spit onto the head. 

You looked at Logan through your lashes as you took as much of him as you could into his mouth. The sensation of your mouth wrapping around him had him gripping the sheets of your bed as you bobbed your tongue in and out of your mouth across his length. His moans slowly become more vocal, filling the atmosphere with a sexual symphony. 

Low groans and strangled breaths escaped his throat as you continued to suck him off. Logan took one hand off of the sheets to gather your hair out of your face. creating a makeshift ponytail with your locks, his hand resting on your head following your movements. Sucking in your cheeks, Logan let out a groan that sent pulses to your pussy and encouraged you to bring him to his zenith. 

Moving your hand in tandem with your mouth you felt him fulminate your mouth with his seed, the taste a salty piquancy of flavor. Swallowing every drop you continued to suck his orgasm out of him, his stomach caving in with zeal as you overstimulated him. Coming off of him with a pop, you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb before Logan pulled you in for a kiss, groaning at the taste of himself as your tongues fought for dominance. 

Logan’s hands roamed the trunk of your body before landing on the swell of your breasts kneading the skin like a cat. Pulling away from your lips he rolled your bodies over so that he was on top. Ridding himself of his jeans and tank top, his nose traced the line of your pants the scent of your arousal pouring out through the fabric. Carefully unbuttoning them, he rolled them down your legs along with your underwear. 

Nuzzling his nose against the fatty rise of where intimacy finds its home, he breathed in your scent a primaeval urge seizing control over him. 

“Lemme take care of you.”

Logan’s hands followed the curve of your sides before situating his body in between your legs. Wrapping his hands around your hips, he swiped a few kitten licks at your center before flattening his tongue and devouring you like his last meal. The scruff of his beard tickled the inside of your thighs and the vigor with which his tongue was lapping at your petals had you rolling and writhing beneath him. You were squirming with pleasure, frantically searching for something to ground your body outside of the euphoria that was gushing through your bones. 

Your hand was hesitant to rest in his hair, not wanting to ruin the perfectly sculpted duck tail, but digging your nails in the sheets wasn’t enough to steady your arousal. Giving into your resolve, your hands threaded themselves into his surprisingly soft locks, given the style. As you gripped at his tendrils, he moaned against your skin, the vibrations sending frenzied waves of pleasure through your haven. 

Your moans were becoming more frequent, breathy, and low in timbre. As you came closer to your peak you began chanting Logan’s name like a prayer, desperate for salvation. Release. 

It came in an electrifying wave. A rapture seizing your body at an intensity you’d never felt before. It inflamed you and you wanted nothing more than to make Logan as yours in any way possible. The sexual paroxysm that caged your being was impossible to ignore now and your body moved before your mind could resist. 

You flipped your bodies again so that Logan was flat on his back. Ripping your shirt off over your head, you motioned for him to scoot back so his back would be against the headboard. Crawling over his body there was a libidinous heat running through you and it felt like something else was controlling your movements. You were just watching from the passenger's seat. Straddling his legs, you perched yourself over his cock holding it at the base. 

“Inescapably, eternally, you’re bound to me.” Your voice was dripping in seduction but you said it almost as a warning, a bitter reminder of what was to come and before you had the chance to drift your mind elsewhere Logan’s voice brought you back. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

You kissed him, smiling into it before you pulled away gasping at the stretch of his cock while you lowered yourself on him. The stretch was ambrosian, your honeyed hole sucking him in greedily as you became flesh with the base, his pubes tickling the tip of your clit. You bounced on him with vehement hunger, your sexual desire throwing you into a zealous delirium. The feeling of his cock stretching you out was something you fantasized for weeks; your imagination did little justice for the actual feeling. 

Giving your legs a break, you moved to rock your hips against his, stimulating your precious bundle of nerves against him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you licked a stripe up the side of his neck before letting your head rest in the crevice where his shoulder and neck met. His large, calloused hands held your hips and helped rock you against him, occasionally detouring up your back and gripping at your skin. 

It was like the veins in his neck were screaming out your name and your fangs began to tingle in your mouth, a sharp pain shooting through your gums. You let the tip of one of your fangs poke at his skin, a guttural moan leaving his throat before the craving of the bond, of the feed eclipsed any trace of logic within you. Fangs bared, cock still sheathed in your cherubic cavern, you sink your teeth into his neck. The intoxicating taste of salty iron washed over your tongue and slid down your throat covetously. 

You need not drain him to the point of death, but just enough to memorize the taste of him for the years to come. Logan moaned out his nails digging into your skin before flipping you on your back. In the movement, you removed your teeth from his neck, carmine staining your lips and the tips of your teeth. 

“Thought you didn’t wanna kill me, baby?”

“Thought you couldn’t die.”

In the prurient haze you were in, the harrowing anxiety from before had vanished, replaced by a fleeting sense of primacy. That feeling was soon wilted as you were shadowed by the dominance of the man above you. 

“I’m gonna fuck that right out of you, sweetheart.”

Swollen with erotic pride you laughed, a wordless challenge for him to conquer. Lining his tip back with your entrance, the stretch was more noticeable on your back and you could feel his tip pressing gentle whispers against your cervix. You were rolling your hips to meet his thrusts and Logan wrapped his arms around your body holding your flesh against his, the sweat on your bodies plastering you to one another in a heinous display of desire. 

His thrusts became urgent like it would be the last time he was inside of you. His moans were louder and the heat from his breaths was leaving a sheen of condensation on the crest of your ear. 

“Fill me up, Logan. I wanna feel all of you.”

You dug your nails into the skin of his back leaving deep red trails in their wake. Wrapping your legs around his waist your hole preemptively squeezed around him as you felt your orgasm build in your lower half. 

“You’re fuckin mine, y/n. Never gettin’ rid of me now.” 

His hips stuttered against you before you felt his balls pulsing against your puffy lips as he flooded your grotto with his thick, alabaster seed. The warmth of his cum filling your pussy left goosebumps to flutter across your skin and he continued fucking you through his orgasm. He overstimulated himself until he felt you pulse around his length, indulging in your juices spilling down the shaft of his cock. 

Pulling out of you, you quickly closed your legs not wanting to get up just yet to rid yourself of his cum. Logan rolled onto his back and you turned on your side placing your hand on his chest before looking up at him ardently. There wasn’t a flaw about him and your mind began to imagine what the rest of your life would look like. You were about to fall victim to your thoughts before Logan’s voice brought you back to mind. 

“So when do I start dying?” 

You slapped his chest lightly. 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m serious, when do I start dying.” 

“Hopefully never, bub. Hopefully never.  Whenever you do, I won’t be far behind.” 

© yeonjuns-beanie ‘24

[surielstea]

Ruined Ice

Pairing: hockey!Azriel x figure skater!Reader (fem)

Summary: Az shows up early for practice and catches reader in the middle of her program, rutting up the fresh ice.

Warnings: cursing | name calling | fluff

A/N: Guys I know nothing about hockey or figure skating so please don’t come for me if some of this is wrong lmao 😭

2.3k words

The blades on the bottoms of my skates could cut through steel they were so sharp. I had made the mistake of running my thumb pad across the toepick and nicked my skin, no bigger than a paper cut but I barely even touched the metal before blood began to bead at where it had made contact.

My mood, however, was improved to its full extent when I stepped onto the ice and realized it was untouched.

I beam wildly as I begin to glide on my smooth blades around the rink, beginning my warm-ups and leaving light trails with every move I make.

Warming up took a quarter of my rented time in the rink, and the next two quarters were spent practicing my program. The state tournament was close, and approaching all too fast. My coach wasn’t able to make it tonight, yet he practically ordered me to practice anyway. I wasn't complaining, well I had been, but on this fresh ice with the cold wind nipping at my cheeks in an empty rink, I had never been more at peace.

That was the case, at least until the Hockey Players began showing up for their practices. I still had fifteen minutes left of ice time but none other than the infamous Azriel Teller was lacing up his skates on the sidelines, staring at me as I went through my routine, doing my best to ignore his gaze.

It was hard though, the man was so damned observant and I swore I could feel his eyes tracking me across the ice.

I finish my routine in my final pose, heavy breaths escaping me as I let the stance fall and I go back to my phone on the side of the wall where I can restart my music.

My phone that happened to be right in front of Azriel.

I ignored his stare and kept my eyes on the wall, making sure to go slow, knowing my freshly sharpened skates would force me straight into the wall if I went any faster.

I grab my phone with cold hands but before I even get the chance to unlock it, the male in front of me speaks up.

"You're ruining the ice," He hums and I look up from my phone, glaring at him, silently asking him if he was serious.

"Your whole team ruts up the ice every chance you get, don't start," I wave him off, scrolling through my phone to find a song to cool down to since my ice time was coming to an end.

"We rut the ice? You and your fancy twirls practically make holes straight through," He defends and I wince because I knew he was right. Especially since my skates were extra sharp tonight.

"It's not my fault you can't evade them like some bad skater," I taunt, picking a song and letting it blast over the speakers to drown him out as I skate away.

Calling Azriel a bad skater was absurd, he must've been the fastest on the ice when compared to the rest of his team, not to mention his accuracy when it came to scoring goals was outmatched. I had heard from Feyre— my best friend who was dating the team captain, that Azriel was the brains for the whole team as well, always the one planning the strategic plays, but apparently, he wasn't allowed to be a captain since he got into one too many fights during his first season.

When my cooldown music ended, mostly everyone else on the Velaris Bats had shown up for practice, staring at me as I stretched my leg up beside my head like I was an animal in the zoo. I still had five minutes left of ice time, so I made sure Azriel was watching when I practiced doing my ‘fancy twirls’, the exercise had exhausted me but it was worth it to see the look of silent rage on his face.

I continued to grin, using him as my spot as I whipped around in the air and landed gracefully down onto the ice, at such an angle that it left a horrid chip in the ice I'd have to avoid for the rest of my routine.

I spot some of the other boys noticing this as well, scowls on their faces as I give them a wink before they rush off to what I assume is the locker room to get their equipment.

Again, leaving only Azriel and I. He steps onto the ice before my time is up and I glide past him with a smirk and he returns it, something in his gaze telling me he knew something I didn't.

I brush it off and continue with my spins and jumps.

I had just come out of a lutz with enough momentum to push a boulder down a hill when suddenly all the lights in the rink shut off. I freeze, my legs buckling at the sudden change, my eyes not used to the atmosphere and before I know it I'm speeding towards a wall, incapable of scrambling to a stop on my skates that were far too sharp.

I shrieked, attempting to pivot on my toepick but it only sent me tumbling forward. I blanch at the realization that I was about to slam into the ice over such an amateur move.

But before I make contact with the frozen ground, hands come to my waist and pull me away from my sudden doom. I gasped, catching my breath as a figure steadied me, gliding along the ice along with me until I managed to come to a stop.

I look up to my savior only to find Azriel standing in front of me, his hands still on my waist as if we were pair skaters. Why was he so effortlessly graceful in the rink?

"Thanks," I mutter, my skates making a crisp sound as they halt against the ice.

"Don't thank me, it was my teammates who turned off the lights," He said, looking down at me, his hands still on my waist as we stood in the center of the rink with the lights shut off.

With the absence of his pads, I could feed his abdomen pressed to my chest, I had been panting from my restless jumps but he hadn't seemed affected when he saved me, like he knew I'd panic.

"Still, I can't afford to get any more bruises," I say through heavy breaths. He cracks a smile.

"I know the feeling," He hums, making no move to let go of my waist, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't heavily supporting my tired limbs at the moment.

"Usually I'm better at stopping, I just got my blades sharpened," I explain and he arches a brow, his gaze almost amused.

"You don't have to make excuses, Princess, you could just admit you wanted to be in my arms," He taunts and I roll my eyes, pushing him away to which he glides back.

"Quit calling me that," I toss at him as I slowly make my way off the ice, returning to the solid ground as I put on the guards over the blades of my skates. Snow Princess had been my stage name when I was younger, it was my mom's choice, and I had been happy with it at the time, Azriel liked to remind me of it every waking moment he saw me, in fact, I couldn't remember the last time he called me by my actual name.

"Not in a million years, Princess," He continues his teasing and I huff, untying my laces and shucking my blades off, favoring a pair of tennis shoes that felt like walking on clouds compared to the tightness of my skates.

The lights turn back on and I look out at the rink, seeing just how much damage I did with my turns. I smile in triumph as I watch Azriel avoid the chips in the ice as he practically soars throughout the rink.

The rest of the players came out onto the ice only a moment later while I shrugged my coat on, losing interest in the others once it wasn’t just Azriel. They had all pushed him off the rink, telling him to hurry up and change so they could start practice already.

I ignore their raucous laughter and crude words as I make my way into the locker rooms, eager to get my stuff and then go home. I could already feel my legs aching with soreness and it's barely been a few minutes off the ice.

I opened my locker just as Azriel strolled in.

I hadn't known his locker had been situated directly next to mine until he opened it and took out all his pads and equipment, then, right then and there to my utter shock he began changing right in front of me.

"You know there's changing rooms, right?" I avoid looking at him, my eyes pinned straight to my locker as I clean it out, stuffing things into my bag.

"I'm in a rush," He said and I could see him shrug from my periphery. "I was too busy saving you from the wall," He remarks and I whirl to face him, then immediately regretting it because he was still shirtless.

"You didn't have to do that," I wished my words came out a little more sour but instead they trailed off, similar to how my eyes dipped from his face to his exposed skin, the cut of his abdomen, the ripples of muscle in his arms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When my eyes meet his again, I'm also met with a stupid smirk on his lips. "Seems like you wanted me too," He teases, leaning dauntingly closer. I swallow thickly. He was so damned near I could practically feel the heat from his skin. "Seems like you want a lot more from me than just my arms wrapped around you," His gaze was entirely predatory. I swallowed thickly, heat staining my cheeks and I knew that I was blushing. "Do you want to wrap around something else?" He arched a brow and I pushed him away, my hands feeling like they were burning the moment they touched his bare skin but he stumbled back and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"You're such an asshole," I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"That wasn't a no, Princess," He crooned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" I frown. I could leave if I wanted to, I have my bag, I was ready. But he knew I'd rather sit here and argue with him than go home.

"I thought I told you no?" He retorts, taking a long stride forward and pinning me between him and the lockers. "It suits you," He surmised. "A stuck-up, prudish, princess," He leans closer with every word, and by the time he finished speaking his nose was nearly brushing mine. I maintained eye contact, holding my ground.

"I'm not stuck up, and I'm definitely not a prude," I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

"Is that right?" He tilts his head, his voice low. His eyes flick down to my lips, then so leisurely trail back up to my eyes.

"I'm not kissing you," I scoff, I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but now the bastard's smirk was wider.

"I don't remember saying anything about a kiss?" He taunts and I grit my teeth. “Is that what you fantasize about to help you sleep at night?”

"Oh, just shut up already.” I crash my lips onto his.

He immediately reacts to the movement, his arm wraps around my waist while his other cups my jaw, pulling me into him, not wasting a second before we have to pull away for air.

I melt into him, my cold body from the ice immediately heating as my fingers press against his bare abdomen, sliding my hand up his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, slipping to the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, my back pressed against the lockers as my legs wrap around his torso. My arms wrap around the nape of his neck as I taste him deeper, every flick of his tongue over mine sending waves of pleasure down my spine. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," I whisper against his lips.

"I don't care," He confessed, his hands gripping the underside of my thighs tighter.

"Someone could walk in," I argue, but I don't bother pulling away.

"Are you nervous about being seen with me?" He taunts and I hit his shoulder playfully, kissing him deeply as a reply before pulling away a fraction to say,

"You're going to be late," I try to defend but I swear he could barely hear me with how drunk he was on my lips because as soon as I was done speaking his mouth was back on mine and any other words I could conjure were swallowed by his all-consuming kiss.

"You worry too much, Princess," He grumbled.

"Yo, Az!" A familiar voice shouts through the doorway of the locker room, and gods we were lucky that he had me pinned to the wall. "What's taking so long hurry up," Cassian calls, and Azriel slowly pulls away from my lips.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," He retorts and my head slumps back against the lockers while Azriel slowly puts me back down onto my feet.

"You're lucky we didn't get caught," I glare up at him but he only returns it with a smile. He grabs his equipment bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"This," He gestures between me and him. "Isn't over, alright?" He leans in close and I only nod. He pecks my lips before leaving the locker room, the door creaking as it shuts and leaves me standing there utterly speechless.

What the hell just happened? And why did I enjoy every second of it?

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[thegoldencontracts]

(Not) A Stand-Up Guy

Summary: Your boyfriend is being insulted. Naturally, you defend him. Problem is... That's kind of hard.

Characters: Azul, Jade

Azul Ashengrotto

It was a peaceful day as you passed through the hallways to run a quick errand; delivering papers to Professor Crewel. The halls were almost completely deserted, every little sound echoing through the walls.

And one of those sounds was the sound of people insulting your boyfriend.

"Ugh," said some guy. "The damn crook. Can't believe people like him can be housewarden."

"We should beat him up." Silence. "I-I'm joking," said the other guy hastily. "Obviously, I know that wouldn't work with those goons of his. He's still annoying, though."

"His voice pisses me off."

"His voice?" Said another guy incredulously. "What about the fact that he's a terrible person?"

A terrible person was definitely an overstatement. Though he definitely had his flaws, Azul wasn't Satan incarnate or anything Iike that.

And- now that you thought about it, didn't these guys cheat off you during Alchemy? What were they doing insulting you boyfriend when they knew you could hear them? Didn't they have an ounce of respect?

...Or did they just think you were a pushover?

You were beginning to feel offended on your own behalf, too.

"Hey!" You said, turning to face them, closing the gap between you and the group of miscreants. "Don't talk about my boyfriend like that!"

"We're right," said one of the guys nonchalantly. You paused for a second.

He was a crook, and he did intentionally get on people's nerves. Curses.

"Uh, well-" You raised a finger to try and prove your point, except there was no point to prove. "He has a very lovely voice!"

"That he sweetens up to get on people's nerves," said a guy. He was right.

You paused for a second. They were right, weren't they?

No, no. You weren't going to let this slide.

"Still," you said, steeling yourself. Your voice instantly turned stony.

"Let's face it: Night Raven's a school of schemers. You're all probably up to no good yourself. Azul isn't particularly worse than any of you, nor is he the morally irredeemable prat you seem to think he is. He's insanely hardworking, and probably more talented than you could ever be, considering how often you all try to pull a fast one and look at my answers during tests."

You paused for a long breath, taking in their shock at your words—and the fact you knew about them cheating off of you.

"So," you continued. "If you're going to use me to cheat or whatever, at least don't talk shit about my boyfriend when I can clearly hear you."

That promptly shut them up.

"Sorry, sorry," one of them said. "So... You won't tell Professor Crewel about... Uh...?"

You beamed.

"We're all good!" You said, switching up your tone immediately. You had gotten what you wanted.

The guy sighed.

"T-Thanks," he said, not really caring about Azul so long as he could keept cheating off of you during Alchemy.

"No problem!"

You beamed, off on your merry way. And, afterwards, you bumped into none other than your darling himself, Azul.

"I saw your little skirmish earlier today," he said with a grin. You laughed.

"I'd stick up for you again," you said. He smiled. "Even if it is super hard to do."

The smile fell right off his face.

"You'd do well to cease this line of conversation."

"Nah," you said. "I think I'll keep talking about it some more. I'll talk about you being a crook, and how you talk like Squidward from SpongeBob sometimes, and-"

"Insolent cretin."

"I love you too, Azul."

Jade Leech

Getting to pick Jade's mushrooms was quite the pleasant experience. They were all so pretty, and the garden itself was so well taken care of, not to mention how much glee you felt at the thought of Jade trusting you enough to ask you to pick some of his precious mushrooms for him!

As you finished storing the last of the mushrooms—Lactarius Indigo, a really pretty one; edible too—you practically skipped back to Octavinelle. Oh, how you loved mycology. The world of fungi was really quite fascinating.

So why did everyone think they were creepy? At least, they did in this school. Seriously, mushrooms weren't just not creepy, they were awesome! Mushrooms were one of the key players in the ecosystem, a great source of food, so varied in utility it was insane, gorgeous, not to mention-

"Oh, look," some guy said." It's the creepier Leech's servant, here to collect his fucking poison mushrooms."

"Don't say that! They're supposed to be together!" Said another guy with a snicker. "They're totally equals, you guys."

Your eye twitched. You could hear them. They knew that, right?

No, no. You had to be calm about this. Move on, ignore them.

"I wonder what kinda blackmail he's got on his little servant-"

"Oh, shut up!" You said before you could stop yourself. You'd lost your temper.

One of the guys scoffed.

"Your precious little boyfriend's a creep, and you know it," he said. Another guy nodded along.

"Wasn't that there thing about him finding people's private online accounts or some shit?"

You grit your teeth. That was... True, actually. He did that, and he also messed with others for his own amusement.

Curses.

"It's just the truth," said one of the guys. You noticed the yellow band on his uniform. Savannaclaw.

You smirked.

"Were you or were you not in on it when your dorm orchestrated the mass accidents? What about the stampede on Diasomnia?"

His eyes widened.

"I- uh-"

"That's what I thought," you said. "Might want to shut it, then. You're not exactly a saint yourself."

With that, you walked off, making one last comment about how they'd never been in a healthy relationship before. Still, you couldn't help but sigh.

You hadn't actually won the argument. You just- deflected their point.

Then again, did those guys really have a point? This was Night Raven. What made the things Jade did any worse than the misdeeds of other students?

You were pulled from your lamentations by the sight of Jade Leech.

"Thank you for so bravely taking a stand on my behalf, dearest," he said with a teasing look that contained a vague trace of sincerity. How did he even get that information? Hell if you knew.

"No problem, my dear princess," you said with an entirely straight face. "On that note, your knight has brought the requested items."

You pulled out the bag of mushrooms, presenting them to him with a smirk.

"Please, accept this humble offering," you said. It was all too satisfying to catch the split second of frustration on Jade's face at you playing along. Turnabout was fair play, wasn't it?

But, of course, he had to keep playing along. It was actually pretty funny, to be honest.

"I accept, my darling knight," he said with a smirk. "Of course, I must reward you."

"And how exactly do you intend to go about doing that?"

Your question was promptly answered when he pulled you in for a kiss.

[caffeinateddino]

i wanna see Kuchel Ackerman interacting with reader SO BAD. so here it is! levi x reader modern au (Gender neutral pronouns for reader. SFW)

---

You stepped into Levi's teashop again, just like you did every morning for the past four months. Before any other customer came in, you’d arrive, order the exact same tea, flirt with him (or at least try to), get rejected, and then leave.

"Hi, handsome!" you chirped as you walked through the door, flashing him your brightest smile. "You're looking as pret-tea as usual." So proud of your cheeky pickup lines, weren’t you?

Levi sighed, his brows furrowing as he wiped the counter. "Good morning," he muttered, not looking up. "Regular?"

Oh, isn't he just the sweetest? Already knowing your favorite order—you wish. He knew a ton of things about you by now, but not because he was interested. No, it was because you reintroduced yourself AT LEAST twice a week. He knew your name, age, job, the name of your first fish, and even that middle school friend you still had beef with. He knew it all.

"Aww, look at you! Memorizing my order?" you teased, leaning on the counter to get a better look at him.

"No," he deadpanned. "It’s just the cheapest tea in the shop, and you order it every time you come in." He stepped back like you were a germ that he had to stay away from

“There’s a customer already?” an unfamiliar voice called from the prep area. You frowned—new employee? But no, as soon as she stepped out, you realized this wasn’t just anyone. She was one of the most jaw-dropping women you'd ever seen. Long black hair, steel-grey eyes, pale skin, and a sweet smile as she walked to the counter. Definitely related to Levi.

Ignoring Levi, she smiled directly at you. “Hi, what can we get for you today?”

Okay, you were persistent, but you weren’t dumb. She was obviously related to him. His sister? His mom? Either way, time to impress.

“I already got the ord—” Levi started, but you cut him off.

“Hi! I love your eyes!” you said, beaming at her. She smiled, a little shyly. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

“I’m changing my order,” you declared, causing Levi to pause and raise an eyebrow. “I’ll have a cup of jasmine tea,” you continued, scanning the menu above. “And, uh... lemon cheesecake, and that thing.. I can’t pronounce.”

You were picking the most expensive items on the menu. Levi couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

“Sure, dear, we’ll get it right out for you,” the woman—probably his mom—replied sweetly, turning to help Levi. Getting a smile from someone related to him? Wild. You thought his whole bloodline had to be as stoic as he was.

After you got your tea and moved to a table by the window, you glanced back at the counter. Kuchel nudged Levi with her elbow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "So... who’s that?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Tch. No one. Just a regular customer," Levi replied with a shrug, continuing to wipe the counter as if it was his life’s mission.

“Really? They seemed interested in you,” she added, clearly enjoying the moment. Levi sighed. Maybe bringing his mother here had been a mistake. “They are,” he admitted, moving to brew a fresh pot of tea.

Kuchel’s smile widened. "They're pretty, aren’t they?" He paused, visibly uncomfortable but unable to deny it. “… I guess?”

"Alright then," Kuchel said, clearly up to something, before leaving the counter to sit across from you.

'Oh god,' Levi thought, feeling a headache coming on. He knew what his mom was about to do…

You blinked in surprise as Levi’s mom—Kuchel —sat right across from you, a warm smile on her face. You glanced at Levi, who was now standing behind the counter with the most deadpan expression, silently begging the universe to stop this.

“So, how long have you been coming to this shop?” Kuchel asked, leaning in like this was a cozy little chat between best friends.

You tried not to choke on your tea. “Uh, about four months now. I, uh, really like the tea here.”

And the view, you thought but wisely kept to yourself.

“Four months! That’s dedication,” she remarked with a knowing smile. “Levi must really enjoy seeing such a loyal customer every morning.” Levi’s eye twitched from across the room.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nice to see a familiar face,” you said, laughing nervously. Kuchel nodded, clearly entertained. “You know, he doesn’t usually get attached to customers, but I think you might be special.” She paused dramatically, then added, “He talks about you all the time.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Wait, what?

Levi nearly dropped the teapot. “Mom,” he said sharply, voice low with a warning edge. what the fuck now

“Oh, hush, I’m just making conversation,” Kuchel waved him off, fully embracing her mom duties. “He mentioned just the other day how you always come in so cheerful and—” she leaned in as if sharing a secret—“how you flirt with him every morning.”

Your face burned, and Levi’s hand gripped the counter so tightly it might break.

You stammered. “H-he told you that?”

“Well, no, but it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” she winked. “And you know, Levi here could use someone with your energy. He’s always so serious, isn’t he?” She turned her head slightly to address her son. “Levi, dear, you should take some notes—this one knows how to have fun.”

Levi groaned audibly. “Mom, please.”

You almost choked on your tea again. This was both mortifying and the best thing that had ever happened.

Kuchel continued undeterred. “He’s really sweet once you get to know him, you know? Sure, he’s got that broody, ‘I-don’t-care-about-anything’ look, but deep down, he’s very caring. Protective, too. He always makes sure I’m taken care of. Isn’t that right, Levi?”

Levi’s glare could’ve melted steel at this point. “I am right here, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t be so shy,” she teased, ignoring him completely. “What’s your name, dear?” she asked, turning back to you.

You told her, still a bit flustered but managing to smile. Kuchel’s face lit up.

“What a beautiful name! It would sound so lovely with ‘Ackerman,’ don’t you think?”

You almost spat out your tea. Levi nearly knocked over a stack of teacups. “Mom!”

Kuchel giggled, clearly enjoying every second of this. “What? I’m just saying. No harm in thinking about the future, right?”

Levi closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath, as if summoning every ounce of patience in his body. “I’m going to the back,” he muttered, turning away before his mom could cause any further damage.

Kuchel just smiled after him, unfazed. “Well, he’ll come around eventually. Boys like him always do. Anyway, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, dear. And don’t worry—I’ll make sure he brews your tea just right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this point. “Thank you. I’ll definitely keep coming back.”

As Levi disappeared into the back of the shop, probably questioning every life decision that led him to this moment, Kuchel leaned in one last time. “Don’t give up on him,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He needs someone to loosen him up. And between you and me…” She grinned, eyes twinkling. “I think you’re perfect for the job.”

You were certain Levi was somewhere back there facepalming so hard, but honestly? You were starting to like Kuchel a lot.

[delicatebarness]

the Red Rooms | prologue

Summary: In the gritty underground, the Red Rooms is a notorious establishment, in which, you must navigate a perilous hierarchy and prove your worth amidst a world of seduction and power.

Warning: Prostitution/Sex Work. Sexual Harassment/Assault. Violence/Threats. Power Dynamics/Control. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1579

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: A lot of you asked for this one so here it is. Also, this is a part of 'Prologue Season' so if you do want more, you gotta let me know :D - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Red Rooms: I have tagged everyone from the OG post about this fic, but please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed - @scott-loki-barnes | @bo0mccc | @zuri-767-666 | @buggy14 | @curlycow01 | @waywardhunter95 | @saranghaey | @scoonsalicious | @thezombieprostitute | @crazyunsexycool | @startcarvingdarling | @jae0515

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

Pulsing like a heartbeat, the city’s neon glow cast long shadows across the grime-slicked streets of the underground district. Among the towering spires of steel and glass, you stood at the doorstep of the more notorious establishment in the district: The Red Rooms. Ran by Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the sprawling brothel was a labyrinthine for those to seek pleasure and escape. For you, it was neither. You were here out of desperation. 

Inside, an unspoken hierarchy governs the world, symbolized by the height of a girl’s heel. The higher the heel, the more power and influence the girl wields. And, at the pinnacle of this ladder stood Natasha Romanoff. Clawing her way to the top, she proved her worth through years of cunning strength, and an unwavering will. Now, Steve and Bucky entrusted her with an immense responsibility– overseer of the girls, she would recruit, assign, and train the girls in the art of seduction. 

Natasha knew every girl under her command, she understood their strengths and weaknesses, and with sharp eyes and that knowledge, she maintained order and efficiency. So when you, a lost soul, bedraggled and tired, appeared on the doorstep of The Red Rooms, Natasha’s skepticism was palpable. 

You were different from the other girls, too innocent, too fragile– Natasha could tell in your pleading eyes. 

“Please,” you begged, your voice small and trembling. “I need a chance. I’ll do anything.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Natasha’s lips curled, a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Anything, you say?” she mused, tapping her manicured fingers against the back of her clipboard. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice firm. “But, you need to prove yourself or you’re out. And, you’ll start from the bottom, in flats.” 

“Thank you,” you beamed up at her, your gratitude boundless. “I won’t let you down.” 

Her tone left no room for failure as Natasha replied. “See that you don’t.” 

Swelling within you, your gratitude was overshadowed quickly by the reality of your situation. The world you were thrown into was as foreign as it was ruthless. Eyes mixed with curiosity and disdain followed you, towering heels clicked against the grime, and sticky floors as they passed. You were a lamb among wolves, out of place.

The menial tasks were assigned to you at first– scrubbing the floors, fetching drinks, and running errands. “Here,” Natasha said, handing you a mop and bucket, “the VIP lounge needs cleaning. Make it quick; clients hate waiting.” 

Nodding, you got straight to work, knowing that each task you completed was one step closer to proving yourself. Slowly, Natasha began to see glimpses of your strength as she watched you closely, her sharp eyes never missing anything. 

~

The girls in The Red Rooms rarely saw their bosses, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes– preferring to remain in the shadows, the men oversaw their empire from their office. They were only known to descend when they were bored and in need of entertainment themselves. 

One night, as the red hue of the lights flickered and the floor buzzed the murmurs of secrets and transactions, the men stood observing the floor from their office, taking in every detail. That was when you caught Steve’s gaze. 

“Why the fuck is there a lost puppy on the floor?” He muttered to Bucky, annoyance and curiosity laced in his tone. Bucky stood with an inscrutable expression as his gaze followed Steve’s, landing on you. “What is Romanoff thinking?” 

The men continued to watch you, for a moment longer, Steve’s eyes narrowing as he assessed your movements. You could sense the intensity of their stares, the weight of Steve’s scrutiny, even from the floor below, and it made you nervous. A heat rose within you, flushing your cheeks. You tried to focus on your tasks and ignore them.

Later, Steve called Natasha up to the office. “Romanoff, what’s the deal with the new girl?” he demanded in a low but firm voice. “She’s not even in heels. We have a reputation to uphold.” 

Meeting his gaze, Natasha never flinched. “She’s different, Rogers. She needs a little time… but she has spirit and is an eager learner.” 

Steve’s eyes darkened as they bore into hers, he searched for any sign of doubt. “She better be worth it. We can’t afford any liabilities.” 

“She will be,” Natasha assured him, her tone unwavering. “Just trust me on this.” 

With a grunt, Steve dismissed Natasha. He was not entirely convinced, yet he knew better than to question her judgment. After all, she had earned her position through intelligent decisions. Meanwhile, Bucky’s intrigue grew. He stayed stood at the window, watching you more closely. An instinct coursed through him– he had to ensure you were safe from the predatory patrons. 

As the nights went on, the pressure mounted. Now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Bucky observing from above, his presence felt like a warning but yet, a strange comfort. On this particular night, Natasha handed you a tray of drinks. 

“Serve them,” she instructed, nodding and pushing you by the small of your back toward a table of upstaters in the VIP lounge. “And remember; confidence.” 

Taking a deep breath, you approached the table. Keeping your hands steady despite the growing flutter in your stomach, you served them quickly and efficiently. The clients barely looked up at you, engrossed in their conversation, except for one. A taller man, with a gleam in his eyes, took an interest in you. His gaze lingered as you bent to place the drinks on the table. Suddenly, you felt his hand start to slide up the back of your leg. 

“Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns along your inner thigh. “How much for you?” 

Fear and discomfort flooded your senses, causing you to freeze in the moment. Remember Natasha’s advice, you tried to remain composed. “Confidence,” her voice echoed in your mind. Straightening up, you forced a polite smile as you began moving away from his reach. 

His grip tightened against your skin before you could escape. “Don’t be shy, baby,” he cooed, a smirk played on his lips. “I don’t bite… hard.” 

“I-I’m not available t-tonight,” you stuttered, your voice betraying you. The fear gnawed at you. “An-another time, p-perhaps?” You tried to retreat again, but he wasn’t having it. His hand only tightened, and before you knew it, he pulled you closer.

“Come on,” he said, his smirk growing as he dragged you onto his lap. “Let’s have a little fun.”

Your heart began to race as you struggled against his hold, panic surging through you. “Please, I–” 

Just then, a shadow detached itself from the darkness. Emerging with a swift and decisive stride, Bucky’s expression was a mask of controlled fury. His presence commanded the attention in an instant. 

“Let her go,” he was cold, authoritative. The man flinched under the carried weight of Bucky’s tone. With an intensity, promising trouble, his eyes locked onto the man’s.

The man’s confidence wavered, faltering his grip as he met Bucky’s gaze. “Hey, I was just–”

“Not interested,” Bucky cut him off, no argument brooked in his tone. Reaching out, he firmly but calmly pulled you away from the man’s lap. “If you have any more questions, you can take them up with me.” 

Realizing he was outmatched, the man grumbled and slunk back, he was deflated. Guiding you away from the table, Bucky’s touch was gentle. He led you out of the immediate fray, to a quieter corner. 

“Are you alright, little pup?” Bucky softly asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. Once you looked up at him, your eyes were wide and tear-filled, and your lower lip trembled slightly. “T-thank you, M-Mr Barnes, I didn’t t-think–”

Bucky’s expression softened, and for a moment there was a rare flicker of empathy in his eyes. “No need to thank me,” he interrupted, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Just doing my job.” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t want to get in trouble.” 

“You’re not in trouble,” Bucky said firmly, his hand reaching to cup your cheek, his thumb reassuringly wiping a stray tear away. “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. If anyone gives you trouble, you come straight to me. Is that understood, pup?”

Biting your lip to hold back more tears, you nodded again. “I understand, Mr Barnes.” 

“Good girl,” he replied gently, his protective gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he took a step back. His hand slipped away from your cheek as he straightened up, but his eyes never left yours. “Now, get back out there, there are drinks to be served.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered, wiping away the last of your tears, your resolve strengthening. 

With a final nod, Bucky turned on his heel and disappeared back into the shadows. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and stepped back onto the floor. The crowd murmured, swelling around you. 

As you moved through the floor, you couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the patrons on you, you held your head high this time. Balancing your tray of drinks with newfound confidence and a determination to push forward. 

You caught sight of Natasha, giving you a slight nod of approval before her eyes flickered briefly toward the shadows, where Bucky stood watching. And, with each tray you served, your fear and hesitation diminished. 

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[the-kr8tor]

Could we get some chill fluffy writing/hcs of hobie with an S/o that likes hanging out with minimal talking? Yknow just sharing their space and feeling safe :3? ❤️❤️❤️

S'cute!! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You enter his workspace with a blanket trailing behind you, a thick encyclopedia-like book in the crook of your arm, and two mugs of steaming tea. The door was already open, a sign that Hobie openly invites you in. He feels your presence immediately, taking his eyes off from the contraption he's been tinkering with for hours, he senses that you want to be near him without interrupting his flow of work. To which he's most grateful for, he'd hug you if not for the high voltage tech he's handling.

“Plannin’ on stayin’, lovie?” Hobie asks, goggles fitted on his eyes, rubber gloves on his hands that he silently curses at because he can't hold you with it on— and because of the electricity coursing through his tools.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod, placing his cup on another table, safe from all his tools and thingamabobs. “Can I?”

“‘course.” You smile sweetly, leaning slightly, lips puckered up and head tilting questioningly. Hobie chuckles, and without another word, he purses his lips to meet with yours.

Your lips feel slightly tingly, you guess it's from the electricity. Nonetheless, you gladly kiss back even though it was quicker than you'd like. It's for your own good you bet as he beams up at you, goggles making him look a thousand times cuter than he already is. (which you thought was impossible at first) His brown eyes are all big and round, a sight that has you giggling and wanting to kiss him more. But alas, he has to continue working so that you have the rest of the day with him.

“I'll be there in a bit, yeah?” He whispers to you, matching your energy, and you immediately want to kiss him back for it. Fighting the urge to hold you, he returns to his work.

You nod, walking quietly to the cozy armchair that he specifically placed for you. It's a deep green colour, just looking at it brings you at peace. Laying your mug in the cup holder (which he installed for you) you wrap yourself with the blanket, perfectly tucking yourself in. With your book opened on your lap, you begin to relax whilst the soft whirs of Hobie's tools fills your ears.

You read while he works quietly, just two people living in comfortable silence. And loving each other in the same room but in different corners of it, it's love all the same.

Mug now empty, and belly fully warmed up, you're on page 210 when you feel him snuggle up to you. Hobie sits on the arm of the seat, body slightly folded to accommodate for your own; chin tucked atop your shoulder, lips brushing along your cheek. His arm finds its place wrapped along your middle, palm splayed over your stomach that he has since moved the blanket and your shirt over to feel you closer. Skin still warm, skin still making you giddy after all these years. His other hand meets with the other, fingers linking together, properly warming you up and embracing you like a burrito.

You lean close to Hobie, pulling him impossibly closer by the ribbons on his sweatpants. He chuckles against your skin, pressing a quick affectionate peck on your shoulder. You inhale his presence, he smells of steel and the green tea you've made him earlier.

For a minute, you two just sit there, you read and he watches your expression change depending on the paragraph you're reading. You suddenly sigh longingly, curious, Hobie follows your line of sight, reading it silently with you.

Hobie scoffs in place, rolling his eyes at the passage you're currently on. He points at the exact sentence that's full of pining and longing from the main character. You look at him as he points to himself right after, making a face that says ‘can’t be me, love’ and his hand gesturing a slash across his neck.

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly saying, ‘you sure about that?’ Poking his chest, you shake your head with a smile and then you point at the same passage in the book repeatedly. ‘this was literally you, Hobie’

He shakes his head, mirroring you, ‘no, ‘m not.’

You correct him with a simple gesture that you know will have him melting into you further. And you winning the ‘argument’ Holding his cheek with one hand, thumb pressing softly on his chin, you lean forward, eyes slowly shutting close, lips reaching for his own.

Of course he'd chase your lips, especially when you flutter your eyelashes at him like that! His hands fly towards your own face, tenderly holding you close. Your lips brush along his, but before he could finally close the small distance, you move away with a smug smile. Hobie's mouth is agape, feigning offense. He follows where your finger points at the book where the main character literally did what he just did, chasing down his love interest’s lips like a thirsty man stranded in the desert.

You lovingly poke him again. ‘it’s you’

He sighs, defeated, ‘it's me.’

You're not a monster, so with all your heart, you continue what you didn't do just a moment ago. Wrapping your arms around him just like he did to you, you kiss him just like in the books you devour, you devour him also. To which Hobie clearly indulges himself in.

[atzfilm]

— the most lonely creature (m)

〰️ pairing; k.yeosang/f.reader

〰️ word count; [35.9k]

〰️ genre; dragon serpent!au, water god, fantasy

〰️ summary; finding a yeouiju in the forest brings terrors unlike you've ever seen– in the shape of a water god

〰️ warnings under cut

content; use of explicit language, mythology (not completely accurate), smut, mate mentions, injuries, Blood, Strong Language, cursing, dehydration, anxiety, age gap, double penetration, marking 

-

You brush off your sleeve, glaring at the tree that prickled the fabric. You stretch your shirt slightly, seeing the small, dime-sized hole it left. Your friend insisted that this material was high quality, the best of the best. But from that small hole from a branch, you wonder if he only thought this because he saw it in one of those buy-it-or-you’ll-lose-the-discount commercials. You roll your eyes, giving the branch another pointed look before continuing your climb.

You love the outdoors. The soft breeze that flows through the air, the sounds of the animals and insects speaking to one another. Sometimes you'd see a deer dash through the thick brush, too quick for you to admire its beauty. The fresh air that you adore; better than the city, filled with noises of angry people and an odd odor that never seemed to fade. You breathe in and out slowly, sweat coating your forehead.

Your former coworkers always wondered why you loved being in the mountains by yourself, instead of in the office with everyone else, slaving over a desktop and complaining about the cheap coffee. But what can you say? Maybe listening to them whine about the broken air-conditioner for what had to be the hundredth time finally struck a nerve. And who wouldn't want to be outdoors? The sounds of nature are all you listened to. And nothing could be better than that.

After about an hour of hiking, you spot a coursing river. You raise a brow. A river? This high? You stumble along the rocks and sit by its side, watching as the clear water flows over the rocks and misses easily, disappearing down the steel tilt of the mountain. You reach down, letting the clear water roll along your skin, a small dent in the ever flowing current.

It feels almost oddly lukewarm, a bit like a hot spring. It's strange. You glance up, the sun beaming down on your surroundings. Could it be that? Your eyes move over to the opposite side of the river, a glowing light catching your eye.

You glance at the river, large rocks making a strangely perfect path across the water. You debate in your head whether to ignore the shiny object in the distance, or take the risk to cross the water. It doesn't even look too deep if you slipped. You bite your lip, before deciding. You toss your bag over your shoulder tightly before taking the first step on to the rocks. Your hiking boots aren't cheap, but they're made for tougher terrain so you assume that they would work easily on this surface.

You slowly cross, making sure you're fully stable before moving on to the next one. It's a lengthy process, hands trembling as you finally toss yourself into the small pile of leaves on the bank of the river, cushioning your fall. After taking a few seconds to breathe, you dust off your clothes and look at the object you couldn't help but feel drawn to. You crouch town, pushing the grass away.

It looks almost like a large pearl, a bit dusty and covered in grime. But as you wipe it away with your fingers, the shine peaks through, its outer layer egg white. You pick it up, surprised at how lightweight it is. It has to be less than two pounds, but with its size you'd assume it would be much heavier. Nothing scratched your interest on what it is, and the only person that comes to mind is your old office buddy.

Wooyoung. Wooyoung would know what this is.

You opened your bag, lightly pushing it between your belongings before standing up. The sun's beginning to set, and you'd rather not be out here, not when you're not the best hiker. You glance at the spot once more, before walking back the way you came.

-

You walk through your door, tossing your bag into the mud room and kicking your shoes off. You send little kisses to your fish before walking into the kitchen, pouring water into the pot and placing it on the stove.

"Oh shit the Pearl," You run back, looking through your bag and seeing it shine at you. You wash it off in the kitchen, then place it next to the window by your door. It glows softly in the low sunlight. You stare at it for a bit, before dialing your person.

He picks up after only one ring.

"It's almost 6pm so it's not late enough for a booty call," is the first thing he says. He's sitting in his office, knickknacks piled on shelves behind him.

Jung Wooyoung. The bravest man alive, at least in your book. When you were an intern at your editing company, he was one of your superiors. Compared to everyone else he was much more mellow, not caring much about deadlines and always encouraging the people underneath him to take their time with assignments. It didn't bring much favor to him whenever all the departments had meetings, but he always had excellent reviews from the authors. And that made the management hate Wooyoung just as much as they loved him.

Once you were transferred to Wooyoung's department, a soft hello and a tasty coffee made you both best friends. You were inseparable; assignments were given to you and he always stayed by your side to joke about his team or to laugh at the typos some authors did. Every moment spent with him was amazing, and if you were honest with yourself, you did have a little crush on him. At least until he told you that he didn't really imagine himself with someone. That he loved artifacts and stories more than people. It’s more of a fondness now than anything else.

But that day. The day that Jung Wooyoung poured coffee on your department manager. The day that Jung Wooyoung leaped out of your office, high speed and was followed by what had to be dozens of security guards. The day that Jung Wooyoung decided to quit editing and to be a historian, searching for artifacts and educating people when necessary.

And damn he is good at it. You know how smart he is, but never in your life did you think he'd open his own shop in the city and be one of your wealthiest friends within a span of years. Him leaving your office is probably the reason why you wanted to work at home. He's bold enough to go for his dreams, and you felt that too.

"I'm not calling you for a booty call, idiot," You snort, and he laughs. "What's up? How's it going?"

"Ah, you know the usual. Rich men walking in with their trophy wives and wanting to buy one of my babies for way less than it's valued. And then the wives pout and he puts out some extra cash to buy it," he frowns as he looks at his papers. "Did I tell you how much I hate millionaires? All they do is take money and sleep with it."

"Aren't you a millionaire?" You say through a soft smile.

He nods. "My point exactly."

He grabs something off the shelf behind him, before showing it to you. "Hyung came into my shop the other day and said he found this letter from the twelfth century. It's a love letter," Wooyoung traces the words delicately. "It's a bit cheesy, I think you'd like it."

"Yunho really came into your shop to give you a letter? How much did you give him for it?"

Wooyoung sighs. "Nothing. All he wanted was a date."

"That's cute," You laugh, and Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"It would be, if I didn't say yes."

You blink. Yes? He said yes? You try to keep your face as straight as possible, his eyes moving to the camera. You don't notice the longing in them, they want to hear you protest and say that no, you don't think that going on that date is okay. But all you do is smile, and nod.

"I think you deserve a date, Woo. You've been cooped up in that shop for so long, time to explore the outside world," You move your face closer to the screen. "And from what I can see, you probably haven't showered in days."

"Ah, you're not my Mom," He sighs. "Why did you want to call me anyway? Just to make fun of me?"

You bring your phone with you, flipping the camera to the back one. Your stone sits in the same spot, no longer glowing like before. Wooyoung leans closer to the screen as you align the camera.

"I was hiking and found this thing in the underbrush. I wiped it off a bit 'cause it was dirty but I have no clue what it is?" You say the last bit as a question.

Wooyoung stares at it, his head cocked to the side slightly. He pouts a bit, and you hold back your aww's, knowing he loves being called cute a bit too much. He'd probably go on about it for a week.

"Is it heavy?"

"Nope," You reply. "Can't be more than a few pounds, give or take."

"What kind of color is it? I know it's white, but is it more pink-white or a yellow-white?"

You move the camera out of the way, squinting your eyes at it. "Probably more yellow-white? A bit darker than an egg."

"I can't really tell from this camera to be honest. It can't be a pearl, because it's too big. Almost like the size of a fist. And it isn't heavy either. Would you mind if I came over to your house tomorrow? I'll probably see it better that way."

You flip the camera back to your face. "Will I ever say no to a visit from my favorite person in this universe?" You say, "And I can finally give you your nasty underwear that's been here for way too long. I'm tired of staring at them in my drawer."

"Are they... in your underwear drawer?"

You glare at the screen. "How old are you again, dirty old man? I'm hanging up, see you at twelve!"

He opens his mouth but you've already ended the call, tossing your phone on the counter. You wince as it slides all the way off, the loud drop echoing around your small home. You glance over to make sure it's safe, before walking around it, throwing yourself dramatically on the couch and letting out a sigh.

Your eyes travel back to the strange orb-like thing, sitting next to the window. Whatever it is, you know it's only a reason to not work on the next editing of your client's story. You love the story, actually. Filled with more sci-fi elements than you could think of. You're sure that she's going to become the next James something one day. But goodness, the angst. You needed breaks in between or else you'd be sobbing over a bowl of ice cream, questioning your life choices and wondering if you'd ever find someone that loved you as much.

You push those thoughts away, running your fingers through your hair slowly. Tomorrow's a long day.

-

A knock on the door makes you put your coffee to the side, eyes flicking to the window next to your door. Wooyoung stands there, waving his arms frantically. You grin at him, hopping off the stool and opening the door. He immediately walks in without even saying a good morning. At least he kicks his shoes to the side, walking around the small hallways until his eyes land on the sphere next to your window.

He leans forward, poking it lightly with his finger. "This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," he mumbles, rubbing it with his thumb. "Where did you find this again?"

"Next to the river in the mountains about an hour out from here. I thought I was an egg from an ostrich or something-” He gives you a deadpanned look at that comment- “But it doesn’t sound like anything is inside. It’s not hollow, which is weird because if not-”

“Then this thing would have to weigh at least ten pounds,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Do you mind if I pick it up?”

“Be my guest,” you say, gesturing to it. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Just don’t make too much of a mess, yeah? We both know how you get around new things.” A literal mind boner, you think, walking back into the kitchen.

You listen to him play around with it, mumbling his thoughts to himself as you sip your coffee. After about twenty-ish minutes, he runs back into the kitchen, flopping himself on the stool across from you.

“You have to take me to where you found it!” He says, giddy in his chair. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I want to go back there,” You mumble, taking another sip. “It’s a bit of a ways away. And my legs are sore from yesterday. Plus, I barely edited today and it’s due in two weeks.” You complain, and he scoffs.

“You told me about this thing, and you don’t even want to show me where you got it from? How could you?” He pouts, hand over his chest as he glares at you.

“Wooyoung, you don’t even have hiking-”

“All of it is in the car. I always come prepared,” He says, and winks. “In any situation.”

“You’re disgusting,,” You tease, and he laughs. “Alright, we can do it. But for crying out loud, if you scream at a bee we’re going to turn right around and come back. I’m serious, Woo.”

He frowns. “I am not scared of bees, y/n.”

You raise a brow. “We’ll see.”

-

“Fuck, did you see that?”

“It was a fly, Woo, a fly.”

He laughs nervously, “Ah, I was just testing you.”

You two climb slowly, Wooyoung not far behind you. He jumped a bit at various things, but oddly didn’t at snakes mating. Instead he watched, until you called him a creep and he walked away. You’re almost at the spot where you found it, the sound of running water and the smell seeping into your nose. You glance back at him to make sure he’s close behind, before pushing past some leaves and overgrown plants to reveal the beautiful river.

It’s a bit drier now, but it seems to glow slightly when you enter, as if to give you a soft Welcome. You stand there for a moment, hands resting on your chest as you admire the water. It’s clear enough to see the bottom, various species of sea life swimming through, oblivious to this outside world. Wooyoung finally makes it next to you, breathing heavily.

He opens his mouth to complain, but his eyes widen at the scenery, looking at you. You smile softly at your surroundings, lost in your own thoughts. He doesn’t dare interrupt; he loves seeing you like this the most. You take a couple more moments to breathe in the fresh air before turning to him.

“You see those stepping stones in the middle?” He nods. “That’s what I used to get across. It was close to the bank of the river, hiding a bit in the mud.”

“Interesting,” he begins walking to the stepping stones, and you follow close behind. Just because he knows about these artifacts doesn’t mean he knows nature; he spends more time in his office than the sun.

"Be careful-" You utter, watching as his shoes slip slightly on the pebbles. He looks back at you. His purse is tight around his waist, hair pulled into a small bun on the top of his head. He sticks his tongue at you.

"Real mature," You mumble, and he laughs. You don't notice how close his left foot is to the water, his grip on the rocks slipping. He looks back at you in panic before falling back into the water.

"Wooyoung!" You yell, reaching out and grabbing him by a strap on his travel bag.

He lurks forward, and you reach onto one of the big stones. The rock digs into your fingers and you curse to yourself, grinding your teeth as you try to hold onto him and yourself. But the river...

It has other ideas.

The current picks up immediately, flinging you back from the rocks you desperately held onto. Wooyoung struggles to grab something, anything in his grasp, but the branches are too far away from him. You turn around, your head bobbing up and down from the depths as you try to think of a way to get out. But your feet don't even touch the bottom, and you feel the panic begin to rise in your chest.

"Fuck, I'm sorry y/n, I wish that there was someway we could get out of this-!"

You turn your head, spotting a stump not too far from where you two are. With all the strength you can muster, you yank him through the water. You wrap your arm around the stump, Wooyoung holding on tight as well. You both catch a breath, before he begins to laugh.

Your anger subsides, and you giggle with him as well. "Fuck you! We could've died!" You yell, splashing water at him.

He chuckles slowly as the two of you make your way back to dry land. "You didn't tell me how slippery it was. I could've died!" He jokes.

"Keep talking like that and I'll throw you back in there, idiot." You grumble.

The two of you finally make it to shore, breathing heavily. He flops on his back,chest rising and falling. You lay next to him, your hair slapping against your cheek. You two don't say anything for a moment, heart still pumping at the rise of adrenaline. You glance back at the log, watching as it detached itself from its spot and continued down the river, falling over the incline and from your sight. It was a miracle; it suddenly appeared as you turned your head. You were sure the both of you were done for; but you suppose that that's how life works.

Wooyoung leans up, picking leaves off his clothing. He looks at you, "Hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying close enough attention-"

You wave him off. "As long as we're alive, you don't have to say sorry. Now, if we both fell and I had to walk with your sorry ass to the gates of Hell, we would've had some issues."

"Hell?" He frowns. "I'm too good for that."

"You saying that brought you a little bit closer to burning for eternity."

You two continue to tease one another as you walk back down the mountain, the small orb of yours still tucked safely in your bag. Through the laughs and pushes, you notice Wooyoung wince. You look down, a slash on his left forearm, bleeding profusely. After much protest from him, once you get down the mountain you insist on bringing him to the hospital. Even though he whines for a bit, you call Yunho; the one person you can count on to bring him there in one piece.

He picks up after the first ring.

"Papa's pizzeria, delivery or pickup?" Yunho asks, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead. These two idiots are plucked from the same tree.

"Woo is hurt and I need you to take him to the hospital," You hear him stumble over something in the background, and your frown deepens. Maybe you'll just bring him yourself? You already have to deal with enough as it is, and if you're being honest with yourself, delaying your editing for another day won't do much to your workload. You'd still procrastinate until the last second.

"How hurt? Did he get his finger stuck in the garbage disposal again?" You hear him fumble with something, "I told him to stop sticking things down there, and here we are."

"I think he'll tell you the story once you get there, since he won't let me bring him," You glance back at pouting Woo, "I think he's a bit embarrassed," You whisper.

"I'm right here!" He complains, and you snort.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, make sure he elevates his finger and stays away from the sink. I'll wait in the car-" Yunho stops in the middle of his talk. “Wait. Please tell me he didn’t try that butt thing again.”

You’re quiet for a moment. Wooyoung takes the phone out of your hand, and you stare at him, a brow raised. He turns away from you, but you can still see the blush that brushes his cheeks.

“Stop saying stupid things and get here already before I bleed out and die, okay?” He ends the call, turning to you. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

-

Yunho stands across from Wooyoung, clicking his tongue as he examines the abrasion on his arm. "What did you do, fall off a cliff?" He scolds, and Wooyoung looks at you, a grin cracking his face.

"If you weren't so busy saving lives, I wouldn't have done this to get your attention," Wooyoung says with confidence and a wink, not noticing how red the tips of Yunho's ears get.

"Let's go to the hospital before this thing gets infected." His eyes flick to yours. "Are you okay being alone? Unless you want to come with us."

"Nah, I'm good. I have to finish up some work before leaving. Woo, please let Yun take you and don't try to convince him otherwise," You glare at Wooyoung, rubbing warm water on your cut. Yunho notices the slight winces you do, and glances in the sink.

He frowns. "I'm a doctor, and you're asking for me to ignore your hand. Sometimes, I wonder if Wooyoung's the idiot."

"Hey!" You protest, and he takes your hand out of the sink, examining it closely.

"It's only a surface wound, nothing too big. Just clean it and put a bit of antibiotic on it and change it every six hours. Let it breathe a little before replacing the band-aid and you'll be fine." He says, smiling at you.

Jeong Yunho. Before meeting Wooyoung, Yunho has been your friend for several years; probably since you were small kids, running around the playground. You were close, perhaps a little too close. Your other friends always insisted that you two should date, because you were compatible, but god, you know too much about him to even give it a second thought. He's pretty, you'd give him that. But if you could barely stand Wooyoung's jokes; Yun's were on another level. He couldn't stand five minutes without saying something stupid.

And you love him, you do. But if you had to stand that for more than a day you're sure you'd go mad. Handling one of them is enough to give you a slight headache. But two? Absolutely not. You'd rather fall down that mountain.

"Thank you Yun," You say and he nods quickly, turning back to Wooyoung.

"Time to get your ass to the hospital. I would help you myself, but technically I'm not allowed to since I haven't seen your chart," he says, and Wooyoung only rolls his eyes. He glances at your bag quickly.

"Hey, I'll look more into that orb thing okay? Don't miss my call or else, y/n," he points a finger at you, before following Yunho out to the car. You wave them off, a coffee in hand. Once they drive far enough away, you close the door behind you.

You dig through your bag, placing the orb back in its spot by the window. You think back to the river, a frown on your lips as you stroke the sphere. It still had plenty of water in it, but not enough, you think. You wish silently that it goes back to its original shape, worry about your features. Global warming is a bitch.

You let go of the ball, placing your cup in the dishwasher and stretching your arms. You're exhausted from everything that's happened today, but you still have to edit that angst, sobbing-over-your-popcorn story. So you puff out your chest, taking one last look at the shiny orb shining softly before walking into your dungeon.

-

Wooyoung is fine, he just had a few bruises and they stitched up his abrasion on his arm. Yunho told you the whole story, from Wooyoung's loud screaming to the nurse frantically looking at him and asking if he needed to be sedated. And even with Yunho there, Wooyoung almost stopped the circulation of blood in his arm from how tight he was holding onto him. You can only imagine how dramatic he was; Wooyoung is all bark and no bite.

You flick off a stray leaf from your arm. Some would say you're out of your mind for coming out there without even a week passing since you two almost killed yourselves crossing the river. You know Yunho would have a fit, locking you inside your home and not letting you see the light of day for a month minimum. But you consider yourself a bit fearless, so what's so bad about climbing the mountain again? Seeing the pretty water and having a picnic next to the river?

You finally make it to the spot. A rush of calm flows over you as you set up your spot, lightly flapping your blanket over the forest floor and taking out your small snacks. You sit next to the water as you sip your tea. There's so much more water now, completely different from a couple of days ago. A bit of it splashes against the sides of the bank, some falling over you like a mist. You hum softly, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Your eyes flick over to the other side of the river, and you stop what you're doing. A small cabin is there; it's dark wood almost masking itself against the foliage behind it. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. That couldn't have always been there; there was no way you and Wooyoung would miss it. You tuck the rest of your food away, standing up.

Vines creep along the sides of the small home, flowers decorate the bottom of the windows. It looks a bit old but well kept, signs of someone living there clearly seen. A small part of you is curious, fingers itching to see what's inside. But you shake your head. There could be someone in there right now, and you could be invading their space. You glance down at the blanket.

You could be on someone's property right now.

You crouch down, folding up your blanket as quickly as you can. A creak makes you stop what you're doing, eyes moving back across the river. A man locks the door behind him, staring down at the river. His eyes move along the bank, confusion in his gaze. You look back down, packing away your things. No need to attract more attention to yourself. You shove it in your bag, looking back across the water.

The man's eyes are frozen on yours, an unnaturally bright blue, almost as translucent as the water below you. You don't move, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at you. You feel a strange feeling roll over you, your skin prickling and your hairs standing straight up. Whatever this man... thing is, you know he's not friendly. He takes a step forward, and your body moves into overdrive. You throw your bag onto your back, running through the forest.

You try your best to leap over the rocks and fallen sticks in your way, desperate to get away from him. You hear the stomping of his feet behind you, your heart beating in your ear blocking out most sounds. Your feet catch onto a piece of bark sticking out of a stump, and you stumble before falling onto your back. You hear his steps getting closer and closer, and you try standing up, but curse, staring at your leg. A deep gash covers your calf, and you try your best to hold back your tears.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

His voice is right behind you, and you tense up, quickly turning your head around to face him. He stands above you, arms crossed. His blue eyes narrow, pupils similar to a snake's. He cocks his head to the side, glancing quickly at your leg before flicking back to your face.

“Why are you here?”

You open your mouth, before closing it. This man could be a serial killer, ready to kill you at the slightest mistake in your words. You’re sure that he knows what you’re thinking from the inquisitive look in his eyes. He’s waiting for you to lie, he’s waiting for you to make something up.

“I was having a picnic. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t know this was someone’s property–"

“You shouldn’t be able to see me.” He says plainly. “How can you see me? Have you visited a witch? Are you dying?” He presses you for answers, taking a step closer. “Tell me now, Human.”

This whole situation is getting weirder by the second, so you shake your head, trying to drag yourself away from him. He grabs onto your arm, glaring at you. The bright blue pierces through you, and you quickly realize that they aren’t contacts or a stylistic choice. His eyes are really that color.

“Answer me.”

“Let go of me first, creep.”

He glances at your leg again, before letting go of your arm. You lift yourself onto the stump that tripped you up, breathing heavily. The blood leaks out of your leg slowly. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, and you rub your eyes.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this. If you want to report me to the police or something, can you just do it already? I don’t think I’ll last much longer.”

“Are you feeling faint?” He asks, crouching down to touch your leg. You wince as he brushes your cut. “You can’t leave the mountain like this.”

“Of course I can’t, idiot-”

“But I cannot help you. I need to know where Yeouiju is first. I can sense it on you.” He says, pulling back.

You huff in irritation. “I don’t know what a Yeouiju is! Can’t you just help me?”

“Yeouiju has gone missing ever since you appeared, Human. It rested in the soil next to the river. It has gone missing ever since you traveled across the waters.” His eyes move to your bag, before looking at you. He knows it’s in there, but he hasn’t said a word. “If it is not in my hands, terrible things could happen.”

You open your bag, taking it out. “I didn’t realize it wasn’t yours, I’m sorry.” You give it to his open hands, and he sucks in a shaky breath as it touches his skin. You see the stone glow slightly, before he places it in his pocket.

“You made a wish.” He says softly, “And you didn’t use it for yourself.”

It seems like he’s waiting for you to respond with something, but you keep your thoughts to yourself. He stares at you, frustrated. He shakes his head slowly, lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. You yelp, wrapping your arms around his head. His skin is cold, your hands shivering against it. He walks through the forest with ease, barely rocking you. You come to the river, and he glances down at you.

“Close your eyes, human.”

You hold them tight, and he walks. You’re not sure how he gets over the water so easily, but you open your eyes as he opens the door to his cabin. He places you down on his sofa, telling you to stay put as he disappears into another room. His home is cozy, a fireplace in the corner crackling, filling the silence. Everything looks handmade; from the chairs at his table to the clock on the door to the cabinets lining the walls. He has candles in every corner of the room, flickering softly. And the floor is… moist. You're sure every surface of the wood is wet.

You notice that he doesn’t have electricity anywhere in the house, a wood burning stove in the living room and it looks like the kitchen doesn’t even have running water. You try moving your leg but pain strikes up your calf, and you let out a low groan, biting your lip. Here you are, in a stranger’s home without anyone knowing. You curse yourself for leaving your phone at home, even though it’s no use; there’s no signal out here.

-

Yeosang stands in the opposite room, staring down at Yeouiju. He doesn’t quite understand how you were able to see and wield the orb; it could only be held by wise ones, and ones of pure heart. He hasn’t seen a human hold it in ages; it always sat outside, a stray passerby oblivious to its presence. And yet, you hold it without even knowing its power, using your wish to refuel the river’s waters.

He frowns, placing Yeouiju back on his shelf. Many humans who were able to see it in all its glory used their wishes on selfish things; riches, glory, full health for themselves, immortality. But you, you used yours to help a river. Once you took it from its holy spot, he felt the pain of it being gone from his presence in his chest, a hole ripped out cleanly.

He rubs his chest, but it feels different ever since he touched the stone. He knows that something is off, something the other gods didn't tell him about. He runs his fingers through his hair, glancing back at the stone before walking out.

-

"I told you to stay still." He says as he walks back in.

You finally take in his appearance. He's wearing old clothes, loosely fitting to his form. White shirt and cargo pants, though his shoes are oddly clean. He kicks them to the side, staring at you. His hair is blond, overgrown and covering a bit of his eyes. He walks to you, holding a small, leather bag in his hand. He sits on the floor next to you, digging through his bag. You see him take out small clothes, he sniffs it once before looking down at your leg. He frowns, glancing up at you.

"It was foolish of you to run. You could have hurt yourself more than this," he takes out small tweezers. "Close your eyes if looking at me doing this is uncomfortable."

Before he begins, you move your leg away. He sighs, dropping his arms.

"What's the issue?" He asks, already exasperated. "This will be finished quickly if you cooperate."

"How do I know you're not going to poison me or something? Or is this your evil plot to lure me into your home and keep me as your pet? Huh?"

He stares at you. He pulls your leg close to him, holding it tightly. He blows on your leg softly, and you feel it grow numb at his breath, and you widen your eyes.

Okay, at this point you can only come to one conclusion. This must be some weird dream of yours. Though it is a first, seeing someone like him. You try to calm your heart as he leans forward, slowly picking out small pebbles and other debris. The silence is comforting, but your curiosity is lingering as you look at him. There's something off about him, from his eyes to his calm demeanor to his strange home in the mountains. And there's more to it, but you just can't figure it out. His eyes flick up at yours, emotionless.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole time, or ask your questions?" He asks softly. "I will not tell you my name, and I will not tell you why I have a home in the mountains, or about Yeouiju. But you may ask about other things, and I'll decide if I want to answer."

So the things you want to know, he's not going to say. He digs into your skin as you try pulling away, but his grip is so strong and steady that it doesn't even faze him. His pupils widen as he focuses on cleaning your wound.

"Why don't you have electricity?" You ask softly.

"Why have man-made things when you can live off the Earth? She has given us everything that we need, there is no use for electrical appliances. I have candles, and I have wood. I live near a river. Nothing more is needed." He says simply. "I am going to cleanse your wound, please tell me if the pain is too great."

He slowly dabs the cloth on your skin, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. Not finding any, he turns back to your cut.

"Why did you decide to help me? To bring me to your home?"

He stops cleaning for a moment, and you wonder if you asked too much. He closes his eyes for a moment before speaking.

"The River told me that you were pure, the waters flowing through the mountain whispered to me, and I only listened. There is nothing more to that." He takes out his butterfly stitches, looking at you. "Close your eyes, it will hurt less."

"No, I'm fine—"

"Close your eyes, I don't have time to argue with you about this. Just, close your eyes."

You glare at him but shut your eyes, putting your hand over them. He huffs, then begins to take care of your wound. You could barely feel his touch, the light brushes against your skin still cold. You wonder if it's because he doesn't have heat, but the fireplace should suffice, right? And it's almost the end of Winter; Spring is right around the corner. Wait, why are you worrying about a man who lives in the woods? He's probably been here for years and knows how to live without assistance from you. You aren't his friend; why are you even thinking about it?

Your eyes flick open, moving to the stone necklace resting against his chest. Carved into each stone are symbols you don't quite recognize, a light blue peeking out from the strokes. He grunts, and your eyes move back up to his. He frowns, looking down at your leg.

"You need to rest before leaving; it will be too hard to hike back down the mountains with a wound like this," he stands. "I'll give you some of the stew I made earlier since you didn't finish your lunch." He doesn't ask if you want any, walking back to the kitchen.

He looks back at you sitting next to the fireplace, hand reaching out to feel the waves of heat flowing off of it. Your hair has leaves sticking out of it, some falling to the floor without much notice from you. He leans on the counter, running his fingers through his own.

They will not approve of him having a Human in his home; he knows that. He can only imagine what his brothers might do if they stepped into here, fresh off a trip to see Mother. Eyes moving to the Human in the room, bringing less hospitality with their stares than him. Perhaps San will accept you, but it is a reach. Even though he’s the brother with the most light-hearted mind, he's furious when he needs to be.

He reaches over, taking out a wooden bowl from his cabinet and opening the lid to the stew. Steam moistens his face as he places chunks of meat and potatoes into your bowl. He looks at you again, and this time, you're staring out the window. You rock your not-injured leg, too deep in your thoughts to notice his stare. He places his hand in the water, breathing slowly.

He almost drops the bowl at the sudden onslaught of emotions. He closes his eyes, teeth grinding as his heart swells in his chest, a ringing in his ears and his hand shaking. He's not able to produce sweat, he knows that, but he feels it fall from his cheek. His eyes dilate, looking at you. The word keeps on chanting over and over in his head, and he tries his best to suppress it. Because it cannot be. You are an ordinary Human, it is impossible-

Mate.

"Hey, are you alright?"

You turn to him, and jump. He's trembling; tears falling down his cheeks and sweating more than you've ever seen. You stand, limping slightly.

A small breeze drifts through the window, and he tries to hold his breath. But the creature in him takes control, awakening. The sweet smell of your pheromones brush his nostrils, tickling his nerves. He closes his eyes again, struggling to tell you to stop moving. If the counter wasn't between you and him ...

"Don't move." He says, voice rumbling.

You immediately stop, as his eyes burn into yours. They're completely black as they look at you, the pretty, crystal blue gone. You see as he clenches the counter with his hand, as if he's struggling to keep himself from jumping over it.

Mate. Mate with her, she is yours.

The same words continue in his head over and over, becoming too much to bear.

"Leave, now." He says.

You look outside, the sunset almost turning into the starry night sky. But if you're honest, you'd rather deal with the woods than the strange man in front of you, whose eyes move to every flick of your muscles, neck strained. You grab your bag quickly, limping out the door. Before you leave, you turn back.

"Uh, thanks. For helping me. And I'm sorry I stole your stone."

You shut the door, quickly hobbling across the river, ignoring the loud crashing sounds behind you. You don't know what's up with him, but you don’t want to know. Not really. God, Wooyoung and Yunho would laugh if you told them about this, about meeting a strange guy in the woods and going into his home. Well, scold you first, before bursting into laughter. Telling you that you hit your head a bit too hard on the ground, that you should've gone to the hospital along with Woo. That you have a concussion.

You shake your head at your silly thoughts, your flashlight guiding you back home.

-

You shut the door behind you, taking stuttered breaths. You toss your phone to the side, running your fingers through your hair. Leaves catch onto your nails, and you grunt, tossing them in the small bin next to your door. Whatever the fuck just happened, you wish you can just push it out of your mind, toss it to the side and pretend that today is just another ordinary day.

You throw yourself onto your couch, a nightly routine. A shot of pain goes up your leg, and you hiss, looking back down at it. He bandaged it up pretty well, neatly cleaning off your wound and leaving only the aligned butterfly bandages behind. You run your fingers along the side of it, humming to yourself softly. Was he high? His face was so red, but it just looked like he smelled something terrible.

You reach for your remote, turning on National Geographic. MythBusters is on, talking about the loch ness monster and dragons. You raise your brow, relaxing into the cushions. As he begins his trip to some Forest in China, you hear the familiar beep of your phone. You glance at the caller ID, and see Wooyoung's kissy face. Is he already fine and dandy? You were sure that he caught something with that deep gash. You answer, balancing it between your ear and neck.

"What's up-"

"Where is the stone? y/n, tell me that you don't have the stone anymore," he says through rushed breaths. It sounds like he's run a marathon, gasping through your phone. You lean away slightly.

"Your voice is muffled Woo. Move away from your mic," You complain. "But yes, the stone is back where it's supposed to be. Out of my hands. Deep in the mountains, never to be seen again."

"Thank God. I was researching about it and it talked about it having omnipotence power, and it belong to the ancient dragons-"

You hear a soft knock on your door, and you lean over your couch, looking through the side window next to your door. You see a figure standing there, completely still. Wooyoung continues to yap about the end of the world and something about serpents as you groan, standing and stretching. The banging gets louder, and you sigh.

"What? Who are you?" You yell.

"y/n?" Wooyoung says, "When did you go to the mountains? Did you go alone?"

"Woo, shh. There's someone at the door-"

"Who's at the door, y/n?" You hear the nervousness in his voice. "Fuck, can you just answer me already? I'm about to piss myself."

You walk to the door, but stop, staring at the small window. You can recognize that frame from anywhere. Large body almost blocking the whole window, blue eyes shining through the glass. Your hand shakes, barely listening to Wooyoung's rants into your phone.

"y/n, tell me who the fuck–"

"What did you say, Woo? About the stone and the dragon?" You say softly, your eyes never leaving his.

"Well, it's not a well known story, but sometimes there's a four-toed, Korean dragon that carries a stone called Yeouiju, carried either in its mouth or claws. This is all legend, but it says that whoever is worthy of it and carries the stone, will have the blessing of the gods. Something about the abilities of omnipotence and creation at will. Almost like a wish fulfilling stone, y/n. And it also mentions something about if dragons lose their hold of the stone and is found in the hands of another, they are destined."

"Destined?" You say breathlessly. The door begins to shake, a smile slowly forming on the man's face. You hear a small mhm from Wooyoung as he continues.

"Yup. Whoever is able to hold the stone, is destined to be with one another. Like mates, I guess."

The door begins to rattle after Wooyoung finishes. You take a step back from the door, eyes wide.

"I don't know what that stone that you found was and I know you don't believe in things like this, so please just drop the skepticism for a bit and listen to me. Don't go back for that stone, y/n. It's better to just pretend that it doesn't exist, and live your life without it. I'd rather you not go up the mountains either."

The door groans under his weight, small cracks slowly forming. You move into your kitchen, looking at your phone.

"Wooyoung," You say softly.

"Yes, what's up?" You don't respond after a moment, and he begins to panic. "y/n? You never told me who's at your door? What's wrong?"

"Do you really believe in this whole dragon thing? Because if you do, I'm ninety-fucking-percent sure he's right outside my door," You say. Wooyoung doesn't say anything for a moment, before a chuckle erupts through the phone.

"Don't shit me right now, y/n. Wait..." he trails off, before speaking again. "What happened when you dropped off the stone? y/n, this isn't funny, I'm being serious."

The banging gets louder. You wince each time, putting your phone on speaker, your hands shaking too much to hold it.

"I met a guy in the woods, Woo. His house was weird, he didn't have electricity and his eyes looked like some type of lizard's... And I ran back home, Woo. He told me to leave, and I did. But right now, the man I found in the woods is outside the front door, and he wants to come in."

You hear crashing through the line, and things thrown all over the place.

"y/n, do not open that fucking door. y/n, go hide somewhere, in your room or something–"

"Why won't you let me in?"

His voice echoes in your home, and your eyes flick back to the door, seeing him staring right at you, even through the tempered glass.

Nothing will happen, don’t you want to see me? I won’t hurt you. Just listen to me, okay? Open the door, and everything will be fine.

The cracks in the wood grow, and you feel your heart beating in your ear. The dark wood is slowly coming apart, and Wooyoung is too far to come and save you. You're on your own.

"I'm on my way, y/n, please go hide somewhere, don't open that door! I'm not going to hang up the phone, okay? I'll be on the line with you," he says, and you hear him zipping up his coat. It takes him over an hour to get there every time, and even with him speeding he could only knock off about twenty minutes. And that's if he doesn't run into city traffic.

Your phone beeps, blinking and showing you your low battery.

1%.

Who are you talking to? Is that your mate?

His voice drips with jealousy, and you're sure if you stay on the line any longer–

"Woo, I'll have to hang up now, but I'll make sure to call you back, alright? My phone is running out of charge." You say, hearing the curses fall from his lips.

"Don't you hang up on me!"

You click the end call button, keep your eye on the door as you plug it into your charger in your kitchen. The thumping slows down a bit, and you hear a soft knock on the wood.

I'm sorry for making you walk down the mountain alone, but I was with you the whole time. I didn't let you out of my sight.

That was the feeling that itched your skin, making you turn back every couple of seconds. He was protecting you– no. No, he was chasingyou.

Why don't you let me in, y/n? I want to check up on you, make sure everything is okay.

You shake your head, though you're not sure if he could see that gesture. You're too scared to speak to him, to say a word that'll show your weakness. Show how desperately your body wanted you to fling that door open. You don't know what's gotten into you, but the pull, the urge to see him is slowly overcoming your rational thoughts.

Are you feeling okay, y/n?

You love the way your name rolls off his tongue, familiar and yet, not. He slowly pushes his body against the door, waiting for you to say something to him.

I know you want to speak to me, please. Just say something so that I know you're okay.

You wrap your fingers around the edge of the counter, keeping your eyes to the floor.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," You whisper. You're not sure if he hears you, until a low moan falls from his lips, his jiggling of the door handle increasing by the second.

You sound like you need my help. I can hear it in your voice, you need me, don't you? You feel that, you feel that feeling rolling over you? I can smell you from here, y/n. I know you want me. I know you want me to make love to you, don't you?

You fall into your stool, wrapping your arms around your body, legs tight together.

Want me to fill you up with my cum, have you shaking with how good I pump into you? Biting into your neck, sucking marks into your skin. I bet you'll like that, right?

You try to control your breaths, but a low moan falls from your lips, and you hear him fall to the ground. The TV is too low to hide the sound of him unzipping his pants. Too low to cover his loud moans as he rubs himself just outside your door. You can only imagine the sweat dripping down his forehead, head thrown back and eyes tight as he fucks himself into his hand.

Fuck, I'm here, y/n. Just open those legs for me, hm? Don't you want me to smell you? To suck your clit, to make you cum? Just open them. Do it for me, now.

His voice turns aggressive at the end, and you don't move. You know what will happen if you do. And you're not sure if you'd want to stop yourself from throwing that door open, taking him without a second thought.

You're mine, you know that right? Since you grabbed my stone, we're destined for one another. No mortal will make you feel like I do. I can hear you panting, you know. I can see you, sitting there. Struggling to listen to me, trying your best to keep yourself in that chair.

I know you're thinking about me fucking you. Opening the door and shoving you against the wall, shoving my cock into you without a second thought.

He stops moving for a second, standing up. He begins hitting the door, the brute force breaking off one of the hinges. You need to hide now. You look from the floor to the glass, and between the foggy texture, you see something peeking through. Are those… wings?

His eyes meet yours, and his name rumbles in your mind. It isn't from his mouth, you just feel it being given to you.

Yeosang.

You get up from your chair, not thinking about the repercussions of your actions. Not thinking about how he can smell you. He grunts loudly, slamming himself against the door harder. You run into your bedroom on the opposite side of the house.

Your eyes move all over, before they rest on your closet. It's such a typical place to hide, but you have no other choice. Then your eyes move to your bathroom, but you shake your head. No, that'll be the first place he'll check. You quietly open your closed door, shutting it behind you with a slight click.

You hear your door being kicked in, and you flinch, cursing at yourself for not checking your phone charge before running in here. You hear his soft footsteps as he walks around your home, your breaths hushed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says softly, voice echoing throughout the empty hallways.

You say nothing, not daring to even move an inch. The door squeaks open, and you press your hands over your mouth, eyes watering. Your hands shake as you hear his slow breaths. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you, deep down you know that. But the fear of the unknown, the fear that he’s actually here to damn you for taking his Yeouiju, makes you think otherwise.

“Why didn’t you open the door?” He asks, stopping in front of the closet. His finger scratches the wood, and you hold in your sobs. “Aren’t we meant to be together?”

The door flings open, and you scream, covering your face. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to steal the stone, please!”

Hands pull you up, and you yell, trying your best to fight against him.

“y/n! Y/n! Hey, listen to me! I’m not him, I’m Woo! Hey, hey,” He says, and you open your eyes, looking at the soft brown eyes of your best friend. “Hey, calm down. Just breathe, alright? I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.”

He pulls you into his arms, trying his best to calm down the shakes that just won’t stop vibrating through your body. You cry against his shoulder, clutching so hard against him you’re sure you’ll leave bruises.

“Don’t you ever fucking hang up on me, alright? Don’t you ever do that to me again.” He says sternly, and you feel his tears drip onto your neck. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, I thought… I thought-”

He doesn’t say it, but you know. A small knock makes you jump, and Wooyoung holds you tight, standing in front of you and turning to the door. Yunho stands there sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“I know you said to stay in the car, but it’s so dark out there and the loud music could do only so much, ya know?” He glances behind Wooyoung, meeting your eyes.

“So I heard you caught the eye of a dragon?”

-

Wooyoung stands in the kitchen, flipping an omelet. His eyes stare at you through the window, watching you swing yourself softly on the swing. Yunho stands next to him, balancing on one leg. His eyes follow his gaze, and he sighs.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off of her for days, Woo. She’s fine.”

Wooyoung looks down at the pan, shaking his head. “She says she’s fine, but I know she’s not, hyung. She pretends, you know that. She always says that she’s okay, but then I hear her crying in her room, telling us that it’s just an emotional movie. Every time she goes into the bathroom alone, she locks the door and takes less than two minutes in and out. She’s anxious; and she’s trying to hide it from us.”

Yunho nods slowly. “So, this dragon thing, it’s real?”

Wooyoung knows he doesn’t want to believe it. Believe that just up those mountains, a creature lays in wait, waiting for Yunho and him to leave so he can see y/n again.

“It’s as real as sliced bread,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can’t believe it myself; but what else do you think broke in the door like that? And it was from the outside. No human or animals around here could do that much damage. And I’m sure that an elephant didn’t travel over here to knock down her door.”

“So, what do we do?” Yunho replies. “Do we bring her back to our apartment?”

Wooyoung elbows him, ignoring the smirk on his face. “I haven’t told her about that yet, idiot.”

“Better now than never,” Yunho shrugs. “But I’m being serious. We know she hates the city, but if she’s too afraid to stay alone, well, if we’re too afraid to let her, then we should bring it up.”

Wooyoung grumbles. You already have so much on your plate; dealing with the head editor at your job, this dragon nonsense. Bringing up his new relationship with your childhood friend would probably bring more stress to your life. Wooyoung frowns as he stares at his egg, taking a small bite.

“Fine, we’ll bring it up. But let me tell her first, okay? I think it’s better for her to hear it from me.”

Yunho shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. I think she’ll be happy you finally have some dick in your life.” Yunho narrowly misses Wooyoung’s spatula, laughing as he chases him around the house, the stove of course, safely turned off.

-

“This is not possible. A wise one never mates with a mortal, a Human of all the possibilities,” Seonghwa says through clenched teeth, staring in disgust at his younger brother. “What have you done?”

“Do not scold him so much, Seonghwa. He must have made some sort of mistake, I cannot see Yeosang’s mate being a Human. It is impossible.” Jongho says, defending his brother. “He is the wisest of us all, don’t be so harsh.”

“Or perhaps he would like for this to happen,” San says, eyes on his brother. Yeosang says nothing, listening to their complaints. “He has always followed what Mother says, but at some point, we all rebel. This may be his time.”

“You all are being harsh,'' Mingi mumbles, staring at the blood on the couch. It smells like Human, the stench not too bad on his nostrils, since he has been infatuated with one before. He looks at Yeosang’s tired eyes. “I trust Yeosang with my whole life. Let him explain himself first, please.”

“Fine,” Seonghwa murmurs. He glares at Yeosang. “Explain, now.”

Yeosang keeps his eyes on the floor, exhaustion not the only thing taking a toll on his body. He hears his inner dragon desperately wanting to leave his home, and run to yours, completing the mating ritual. A chain attached to his legs, made with the toughest metals that Earth can provide. It wraps around his kitchen counter; keeping him in his place.

He stares at the chain for a moment, before sighing, pushing his long locks away from his face.

"The dragon told me, this was not my choice and never will be. I just helped her in the forest, tended to her wound. And then when I was about to feed her, I felt the pain in his chest. The overwhelming feeling of the beast trying to claw himself out and mate with her. My dragon is never wrong, even in this Human form. This is why I have myself chained up. Even now, it wants to shred the four of you apart to get to her. And your insults are only fueling the anger in my chest."

He looks at them, and Mingi tries his best to hold in his shock. Scratches cover his face from his claws, slowly healing. Dried blood stains his cheeks but he couldn't even begin to notice. He sees the tightness in his brother's jeans, the reigned in anger that keeps him from leaping at the rest.

Because he has felt this way before.

"Hyung," Mingi mumbles softly. "We all know what happened when my lover was a Human. I am afraid. Afraid that the same would happen to you and y/n. I don't think... I don't believe we should allow you to see her again, or vice versa. It is for the best."

A low growl rumbles in his chest, and the others stare at him, ready for an attack at any given moment. But Yeosang closes his eyes, calming himself.

"We are ancient ones; there is no reason we should even be able to have mates," San mumbles, rubbing his forehead. His red hair is striking compared to the rest of them; but he is a fire dragon. It is expected for him to look this way. "Why did Mother insist?"

"She wanted us to have a chance at a normal Human experience. Ever since she gave us this," Seonghwa gestures to his body in disgust, "Human form, she has wanted us to assimilate into everyday society. But Yeosang has kept to himself, as well as the rest of us." Seonghwa looks to Yeosang, white hair covering his light pupils, almost translucent. He wears his brown human contacts when necessary; but he prefers to let his eyes breathe.

"You should have left that Human to die. It is the natural order. I know that you are... slightly leaning to caring for them, but they are not like us. And you seemed to have forgotten that.

"I couldn't leave," Yeosang explains. "She had Yeouiju. I couldn't leave without retrieving it. Without it, our rivers will dry. Even if I am in control of the rain and river, that doesn't mean that I can stop it from drying out. Finding out I'm to mate with y/n, that was just a mistake."

Mingi shakes his head, brown hair and eyes more normal than the rest of them. Besides the reptile slits as pupils, nothing else was out of the ordinary. At least, from what the normal Human could see.

"I don't approve, Yeosang."

"I heard you the first time," he grumbles. "But this is not our only issue."

Seonghwa tenses up, and San speaks. "What is it now?"

"I am not the only one that has a Human mate."

They all exchange looks, knowing exactly who he speaks of.

"What will we do about that? He hasn't been careful, but mother will approve. She will stop us if we ever interfere. She would scowl us."

"Make sure that he does no harm to the Human. Even though most of you despise the creatures, they are Mother's creations. Seeing them harmed only disturbs her rest. And we are the guardians. Yunho will stay in line." Yeosang is confident in his resolve. Yunho is the one that has spent the most time with the lesser beings. He knows how to be like a Human.

-

Yunho pouts as he stands at the door, Wooyoung next to him. You lean against the wall, rolling your eyes at the behavior. You're fine, and they continue to insist that you go with them. But from the lingering gazes Yunho gives his ass and the smirks Wooyoung sends his way, you've had enough. And you love them, you do. But the constant laughing at higher volumes than necessary and the toilet seat being up, you've had it. The only reason why you haven't kicked them out earlier is because they were worried out of their minds. But you're okay now.

For now.

"y/n, please eat more. You're stuck in that room all day and never come out. I'm serious," He adds, seeing the look on your face. "I bought vitamins and left them in your room. And if you need more—"

"Ah, Woo! She'll be fine, she is an adult not a child," Yunho complains. "And I've been standing here for ten minutes as you showed her around her own house and told her where her own things are. The new idol show is going to start soon, let's just go." Yunho pulls at Wooyoung, kicking him outside. He gives you an apologetic look.

"Call us if you need us. We're here for you, you know that, right?" He says softly. "I don't want you to be hurt, especially by this strange man. Call me if he appears. Do not hesitate, y/n."

You see the plea in his eyes, desperate for you to listen to his words. You nod, and he pulls you into a quick hug, squeezing you tightly before kissing your forehead and stumbling after Wooyoung. You wave to them as they go, your heart clenching. You know that you should have gone with them. If he wanted you this bad, he knows. He'll be waiting for you to be alone, and you're not sure if the feeling in your chest is anxiety or excitement.

-

You frown as you submit your edit of the chapter, shutting off your computer. You let out a long, breathy sigh, throwing yourself back in your chair. The wheels give it’s last sad effort and you yelp, falling back to the floor. The drop echoes around the house as you groan, small whimpers falling from your lips. You hear a loud bang, and you barely glance up, Wooyoung’s probably forgotten his underwear that he still didn’t take back. Hands reach and lift you from the floor with ease, and you laugh slowly.

“Don’t make fun of me I know I’m an idiot, Woo,” You say, reaching down to pick up your fallen chair.

Hands reach for it instead, and a cold shiver rolls up your spine. His hands are too big to be your best friends’. Your eyes follow his arms, meeting the light blue that you’ve tried to erase from your head. His hair is pulled back from his face, resting in a low bun. He looks at your shocked expression, and slides your chair under your desk. You take a step back once he moves forward, and he stops.

“I-”

“Why are you in my house? How did you get into my house? Why are you in my room? Get out!” You yell, eyes flicking to the phone text to your computer. He follows your gaze, shaking his head.

“Calling more Humans to assist you won’t make me go away. And I heard the sound, and I came as quickly as I could. Are you alright? You hit the floor pretty hard.”

As quick as he could? Was he waiting outside your door? You know that the hike from his home to yours is at least an hour, and that’s if you don’t stop to take a break. He takes in your confused expression, waiting for you to object, for you to scream and run away from him. You wear your thoughts on your face, your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hair looks like you’ve ran your fingers through it over and over, and you’re wearing your sleepwear, loose on your frame.

His dragon rumbles inside of him, and he closes his eyes for a moment, too quick for you to think it’s more than just a blink. He opens them again, keeping his gaze with yours.

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, “Are you waiting outside my hours, waiting for the opportunity to pounce on me?” You know you sound crazy, but he’s crazy! He’s the one that broke your door, which led to Yunho standing there in confusion as he tried to fix it.

“No, I told you that I came-”

“Yea, you came when you heard the sound. But you had to be close, it’s not possible.”

“Are you sure it’s not possible? You know that I am not a Human,” he says simply. “Just accept it, and then you’ll understand that I can find you anywhere and be there within moments.”

He sits on the bed, and you hear something drag. You glance down, seeing chains wrapped around his ankles. He doesn’t explain why he has them, just stares at you.

“Please leave my house.” You say softly. “I don’t want you here, Yeosang.”

That shatters the expressionless look on his face. His mouth forms a small o, eyebrows tight in concentration. “You know my name. I haven’t told you my name, but you know. How do you know?” He stands this time, eyes flicking between yours. The pupils narrow into slits, blue darkening.

“I heard it. When you were outside my door, I heard your name whispered into my ear.”

He nods slowly. “So this is not a lie. It’s true, you are my mate, y/n.” He takes your figure in. “I cannot believe you’re my mate, a Human.” He says that last word with a bit of revulsion in his speech, almost hissing as it comes out. “I couldn’t … I didn’t think it was possible to mate with a Human. I didn’t think that Mingi was telling the truth, but you are here.” He reaches out, but moves his hand back quickly when you flinch. “I will not hurt you. You know that.”

“I don’t know that, Yeosang! I don’t know you, I have no clue who the fuck you are, and you continue to just barge into my home, thinking it’s yours. Saying that I’m your mate, but I’m not. I don’t even know your last name, I don’t know anything but the fact that you live in a small house in the middle of the forest and you’re horny as Hell!”

He snorts at that. “I’m not sexually aroused all the time. It’s just when I’m in the presence of my mate. My dragon inside of me wants to have children, that’s its goal. But when I’m alone, I’m fine. I don’t have the desire.” He looks at you, “I didn’t want this either. To be your mate. That’s why I live in the forest alone, away from Humans. I would rather be away from all of you, isolated and live on my own. But unfortunately, you decided to come into my forest and take Yeouiju. If you just left it alone, none of this would have happened.”

You stay silent at that. He sighs, tugging at a small hair that fell out of his bun. You notice that his fingers are lined with silver rings, each one has a strange symbol. Just like the necklace that rests on his neck. You look away, trying your best to comprehend whatever the Hell is going on right now.

He’s right; you’re not scared of him. Your chest leaped when he appeared, but a wave of calm fell over you once you realized it was him. Despite everything, you feel safe. With a man who claims he’s a big, bad dragon that lives in the woods. With a man who claims that he’s your mate. With a man that almost made you drop to your knees just a week or so ago because he told you to. You consider yourself an independent woman. Not listening to the begging of some man to shove his dick in you. And yet, you’ve been drooling over that night, wonder what would’ve happened if you opened the door…

“Stop.” He says, clenching his jaw.

“What? I didn’t even say anything!” You say, your face warming by the second. Oh God, you’re making a face, aren’t you? The fuck me face? How more embarrassing can this get?

“You didn’t need to, I can smell you. If you continue I won’t be able to stop myself.” He says simply. Your body shivers, and he growls.

“I said stop.”

“I am! I am, can you just go?” You open the door, gesturing out. “And never come back?”

He looks out into the hallway, closing his eyes for a moment. He opens them again, a tired look in his face. “If I leave, I will be back unfortunately. Even now, my dragon wants me to stay. To set up my nest here because your home is filled with the scent of you, and those other men,” He wrinkles his nose. “I thought that I could speak to you, about more than just mates. About why I am like this, and about my dragon that I mentioned and you don’t seem that fazed that I keep on saying it.”

Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, this guy was right! Your nerdy best friend is right! You look at Yeosang, frowning. He doesn’t even look like a dragon, did he adapt as the years passed? Changing his form to walk among you humans easily?

"My friend, he's really into this stuff. He researches old objects and keeps many. A kind of Indiana Jones if you really think about it.”

Yeosang stares at you blankly and you can only sigh, your reference meaningless to his ears.

You rub your face, turning around and walking into the kitchen. He follows behind, a bit slow on his part. You start the coffee maker, before turning back to him. His eyes are empty, not even a peek into what he’s thinking. But you notice how they flick all over your kitchen, taking in the environment with caution.

"What are dragons?" You ask, staying a bit away from him. The counter is the only thing separating you, but he doesn't make any motions to get closer to you, and you're glad. "Are they giant lizards?"

Yeosang scoffs at that. "We are not giant lizards. We are..." He trails off. "The best description would be a mix between a lizard and a serpent. We are cold-blooded, and we mate for offspring in the early Spring."

You tense up at that, knowing that Spring just began.

"Is that why you picked me as your mate? Because it's early Spring?"

He shakes his head slowly. "No. Mother, when she created us we were supposed to guard our realms. Make sure the balance of the Earth always stays the same. But she noticed how lonely we were. You see, I don't often see my brothers. Since I am in charge of Earth's water, I have stayed alone on that mountain for millennia. No human has ever had the ability to see me or my cottage, because it is hidden from their eyes. But you," He looks at you. "You have changed everything. And a part of me is afraid of this. I've never wanted a mate, because..."

He looks down at his hands. "I have seen my brother care for a Human. And watch him die in his arms, unable to do anything. He wasn't his mate, but he cared for him like so. Mingi didn't deserve to get his heart broken like that, so I swore that I would never do the same. I would never interact with a Human, I will stay away."

"But your eyes met mine from across the river. At that moment, I knew that you were different. And you happened to be the one mother chose for me. A Human who would die in a few decades, only a few hours for a creature like me."

He told you the harsh truth. He doesn't want you, and it's not like you want him. You barely know him. But the feeling of rejection swirls in your chest, the burning sensation of knowing that you're unwanted making you want to vomit.

"Then why are you here? Is this supposed to make me feel better? Make me want to throw myself into your arms and thank your Mother that she made us mates? I don't know you, Yeosang. And I don't think I want to. Not after you basically called me a waste of time."

He winces at that. "I didn't mean to–"

His eyes turn to the open doorway, narrowing. He moves in front of you, blocking your view. You try to push him out of the way, but he glances back, glaring at you. You stay silent then, hiding behind his wide stature.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, emotion lost in his voice.

The new person laughs, and it's like magic to your ears. Not as pleasant and mouth watering as Yeosang, but pretty damn close.

"Ah, do you want to hide her from us now? We just wanted to take a peek at your mate."

"Leave." He says simply. "I told you to not involve yourselves in this, it'll only overwhelm her–"

"Overwhelm me? Why do you keep on treating me like a fucking kid?" You peek your head out from around him, and he sighs, letting you stand in front of him without much protest.

A man stands there, arms crossed as he tilts his head and takes in your figure. His eyes roam over your body, teeth biting his lower lip. His eyes rest of yours, filled with something you can't figure out. You wouldn't have noticed anything strange about him, but his eyes are a lighter brown.

"Yeosang didn't say you were a beautiful Human," his voice is smooth, slithering into your ear as he speaks. He takes a step forward, "Perhaps you'd want me instead?"

"Cut it out," The man standing behind him mumbles. His hair is a dark red, eyes matching the same. His eyes flick over you quickly, frowning. "She knows how easily you fell in love with a Human, and yet, she continues to do this to us." He tsks, looking away. "How despicable."

"San, Mother makes decisions for a reason. We must be grateful, she is the one who made us into who we are," The slick talker rebuttals. He looks back at you, nodding his head once. "Nice to meet you, I'm Mingi. The one with the bad temper is San. Seonghwa isn't here, he decided to go back to his Home."

Mingi looks at Yeosang, a small pout on his lips. "Don't hide your playthings from us anymore—"

A low rumble echoes around the room, stomping Mingi in his speech. You feel Yeosang move closer to you, almost inches away from pressing his back against yours.

"Watch what you say," he says.

San sighs. "He's already bonded, there's no use. If we remove her, it will only tear him apart."

Remove? Remove? Were they going to—

Yeosang feels your heartbeat race and he stands in front of you, wrapping an arm around you protectively. His skin is cold but it's comforting, his grip strong as he holds you to his side.

"I won't repeat myself, San. Remember your place. Both of you leave her home, now."

Mingi's face drops. "I'm sorry," he tilted his head to you. "To both of you. Please be well."

San sniffs, eyebrows furrowed. "Doesn't it smell like–" Mingi slaps his hand against San's lips, a nervous laughter erupting from him.

"Haha! Time to go, San. I'll see you back home, Yeosang. And it was nice meeting you, y/n. I hope to see you again soon."

Mingi pushes a resistant San out of your home, shutting the door loudly behind them as they leave. Your hand brushes lightly against Yeosang's arm, and he slowly lowers his chest, heart beat steadying to a normal pace.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect them to show up here so quickly." He confesses, turning back to look at you. "And I understand if you don't want to be my mate. I'll just stay away."

You feel your body reject the idea. Tears spring to your eyes, your hands begin to shake, and your breaths kick up in speed. You shake your head, not wanting to meet his eyes."No. No, I mean... We can be friends, Yeosang. I don't want you to disappear. Not until I've given you a chance."

His somber expression fades as he takes in your words. "You don't have to do that to make me feel content. I'm okay with being away."

"Are you? Are you okay with not seeing me?"

His eyes move to the floor at that. He doesn't say anything, but as the old saying goes, actions speak louder than words. You nod slowly.

"Okay, then we can be friends. Just... when you come to my house, maybe knock before barging in? And don't break my door anymore please, it took Yunho way too long to fix it."

You see the disgusted look on his face, but before you can question it it fades away. He moves his head in agreement, slightly tilting it to you.

"I'm fine with that. When you are inviting people into your home, do you trust them? There are many who say they are something when they are not. You should be wary of that."

"No one that's come into this house is someone that I don't trust. At least, not until today."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't you trust my judgment?" You ask through clenched teeth. If he's referring to you not letting your best friends into your home, you'd shut it down immediately. They're the only people that you love and trust in this world. Not even him, your destined mate, can get in between that.

He sighs, mumbling words in a language you don't understand. He takes off his necklace, rolling the stones between his fingers for a moment. "You've kept your eyes on this for a while, so before I go I should tell you what this is. "When we were first created, all of us were given a token of Mother's love and protection. She gave me this necklace and the silver on my fingers. The symbols are something that your Human mind won't quite comprehend. But essentially, it protects you from danger and deep woes. Since... Since I worry for you, I would like it if you kept this with you."

You stare at it in his hands, his fingers brushing lightly over the stones.

"I can't take that—"

"I am a dragon, y/n. I do not need protection like this. And I have my rings, if you are worried about that. Please, this will make me feel better about leaving you alone without my protection."

Before he was complaining about having to be your mate, but now he's basically confessing his love for you. You nod, barely, and he takes a step forward, slowly dropping it on your neck. You think that some feeling will go over you, but there's nothing but the smell of him that surrounds you. He stares at the necklace on your neck, letting out a breath of relief.

"Please don't take it off unless I'm with you. Now that you're my mate, it makes you a target for beings that are too terrifying to name. Beings that lurk in the forest."

He hears your heartbeat pick up at that, and curses himself for scaring you.

"They won't come to you, I've already placed protection around your home. Nothing within a twenty mile radius will come to you unless I perish. And I am older than the stars."

You laugh, and his chest whines at the sound. He closes his eyes, trying his best to remember the beautiful symphony. His eyes move to how yours crinkle at the corners, how your nose scrunches up and your cheeks lift.

"I cannot believe the universe decided to make my mate a dragon that constantly reminds me that he's older than dirt. And people said Twilight was bad."

He listens to you mumble on and on about how unfair the world is and something about sliced bread. You look at him, and your eyes still. A small smile graces his lips, and it's one of the most ethereal things you've ever seen. You feel your cheeks warm at your thoughts. Watching him stand there, your doubts go away for just a moment.

"I'll see you soon, right?" He asks.

"Yes. Yes you will, Yeosang."

-

Wooyoung walks around your home, eyes flicking over everything. You watch him with mild curiosity, waiting for him to complain about the dishes not being done or something so minuscule that not even your dragon— Yeosang, would be able to notice.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He questions, worried. That's why you love him. Despite his annoying habits and a bit of overbearing behavior, he cares about you. He cares about you so much, and thinking about it almost makes you cry.

"I'm okay, Woo."

He takes a step closer, doubt in his eyes. "Are you sure? You don't need anything?"

"No, I'm fine Woo. All I need is you and Yunho, and I'm good. Answer my calls and whine for all I care, but I'm good. No more walking around here like a zombie, no more jumping at the slightest sounds. I'm good."

He runs his fingers through his hair.

"Fine, but stay away from that forest. I'll buy you one of those treadmills that makes you think you're walking in nature."

You chuckle, and he grins at how he finally got you to laugh. Your eyes move over to Yunho, your smile slipping slightly.

Ever since they've arrived, he's been off. He was all smiles until his eyes flicked over your figure, moving from your necklace to your home. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and sat on the couch, saying nothing else. Wooyoung didn't notice the change in his attitude, too worried about you. But whatever upset him, you just hoped it wasn't you. He didn't even laugh at any of your cheesy jokes or crack one of his own. Does he think that you're lying about how okay you are? Does he know that you're hiding something without saying it?

You've been on edge the whole time because of him, waiting for him to finally snap and say what he has to say. But he's kept his lips shut, staring ominously into the muted TV.

"Alright well Yun and I have a date later, but just text us if you need anything, alright? We're just a phone call away!" He hugs you quickly before pulling on Yun's shoulder. He stands, and you almost scream as his eyes meet yours.

They're completely black, filled with nothing. But he blinks and it's gone, as if you just imagined it. Yunho breaks out into a smile, different from his quiet behavior only moments ago.

"Take care of yourself, alright? Don't get into any trouble." He says the last word with a bit of anger, and you nod, letting the both of them walk out. As they shut the door behind them, you lean on the counter, eyes unfocused.

No. It was just a trick of the eye. It's not possible for him to have black pupils. You push away your silly thoughts, trying to think coherently. He's been your best friend ever since you were a child. Whatever you think you saw, it isn't true. You keep on telling yourself this, scrubbing the plates with much more vigor.

-

"Tell me more about Humans. Do you have lifelong mates, are there people you are destined for?" Yeosang asks as he watches you type on the computer.

You sigh, "No. Well, it's not like our bond. People sometimes choose someone to spend the rest of their lives with, and it's not fate or destiny. They go through problems, some may have multiple people they love. It just depends on how their life goes, ya know?"

You don't hear anything from him, and you continue to concentrate on the words in front of you. He seems to get the picture, moving away from you and walking around your room. You don't see him stop on your drawer, don't hear him opening the top one because of your immense concentration on your work.

Yeosang brushes his fingers on the fabrics, obviously your undergarments. His hands reach deeper, something solid touching the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out slowly, a large pink cock standing in front of him. He feels his face flush as he stares at it. Do Humans... pleasure themselves this way? He pokes it, a faint smell of your pheromones coating the outside. He quickly drops it into your drawer, slamming it with such might that you jump in your seat, turning around to look at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Pink cheeks and red ears greet you back, and your eyes move to the drawers behind him. You think about what you have in there, panic immediately reaching your eyes.

"Just... Don't look at people's stuff, alright? And haven't you lived for several millenniums? The first thing that you should've learned was privacy!" You hiss, and he nods, bowing quickly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you pleasure yourselves—"

"Stop! Stop, please don't make this more embarrassing than it already is."

He nods, and you turn back to your desk. Your eyes can't seem to concentrate on the task, and you throw your head to the desk in frustration. Yeosang moves back over to you, concern about his features.

"Why do you do things that upset you?" He asks softly. "Isn't it better to do more calming activities? I have seen you stressed since I've arrived, and that will only decrease your lifespan."

You can't help but pout, "I love my job. I just hate when I can't figure out how to edit something with better words. And I need money, Yeosang. Nothing comes easily in life."

He shrugs at that. "I live in the mountains with what nature provides. The only use of money to me is a way to start my fire. But I do see how focused Humans are on it. It's a major reason why you all suffer so greatly. You should look back to your ancestors and see that the simple life is best. But barely any of you know how to start a simple fire without the use of your tools."

He glances at your computer, hands crossed against his chest. "You stared at that for so long, you don't even realize that three hours have gone by." He glances at the time on your clock. "Would you like me to make something for you?"

You frown. "You don't even know how to work the oven, why would I let you near my kitchen?"

His lips lift up into a smirk, showing the ever elusive dimples in his cheeks. "I'll bring you to my home. Something is already cooking."

You think about the last time you were there, his eyes locked on yours as he struggled to hold himself together. Hands digging into his kitchen counter as you basically ran out, your leg straining in pain as you made your way down the mountain. You were terrified at the time; a bit of you still is, even if he's your mate.

"I won't hurt you," he says softly. "I can feel the change in your temperature, and hear the way your heart beat changes. I can't read your thoughts, but from this I know enough. I won't hurt you," he repeats. "That was my dragon out of control. It's never experienced a scent like yours before, but I've controlled it. And it won't dare to hurt you, it wants to only protect."

He rubs his forehead. "This... All of this is complicated. There's so much to explain to you, but I'm not sure if you'd like to hear it." His words are coming out in soft whispers, unexpected from such a vocal being like him. But he's nervous, hands shaking slightly as he pulls on his hair. You've grown to notice that it's a nervous habit of his.

"Let's go to your home," you say, and he visibly brightens up at your words. "And I don't think you'll do anything to hurt me. I trust you."

You trust him. His lips twitch, wanting to curve into a smile. But he's so scared of frightening you away that he only nods, not noticing your shoulders drop a bit at his dry reaction.

"We should leave soon, then. Before it gets dark out."

-

You still make him nervous when you're with him. The smell of you stuck in the air, whiffing around his small home. He keeps quiet though, checking and tasting his soup frequently. He's not sure what you like; salty or sweet, spicy or mild. It makes him panic a little, hoping that he satisfies you.

You sit in the living area, eyes on the fireplace flickering. His eyes trail along your exposed skin, landing on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He's been wanting to mark you as his since he's found out, but easing you into this is what's best. You don't know anything about him, and tying you to him that way will only break you two apart. Resulting in him being more broken than he already is.

It's hard, he wants to tell you everything, from his birth to now. Everything that he knows about dragons, wanting to see your eyes shine with curiosity at his words. But he holds himself in, not wanting to overstep. You're loud and blunt, you'll tell him when he's doing something wrong. He tastes the stew once more, nodding in satisfaction.

"You know," he looks at you, and you're turned back, smiling at him. "You don't have to make the stew perfect. As long as it's edible, I couldn't care less about the flavor."

"I just finished." He grabs a wooden bowl, thinking back to how only a couple of weeks ago, you were with him. Same scenario, but this time your leg is fine. The healing water, or cleaning liquid, that he poured over it, helped. He still hasn't told you about the small trick that he did, but that's for another time.

He takes two bowls and spoons, and walks over to you, trying his best to not trip. He's clumsy, he knows that. He passes the bowl to you and you thank him. He sits across from you, watching as you take the first bite into his mouth. You say nothing for a moment, face and body motionless.

"Is it too salty? I can add more water—"

"Yeosang, if you told me you were such a good cook I'd ask you to cook for me all the time!" You say, your face bright. "What the fuck! This is some Gordon Ramsay, some Bobby Flay type shit! It's amazing!"

He sighs in relief, sipping his slowly. "I'm glad you like it, y/n."

Your smile twitches. Your name falls off his lips easily, making your whole body shiver.

"You never said my name." You say softly. "To be honest, I thought you didn't know it. But you finally said it, so we're getting somewhere, right?" You say, and he nods.

"Yes."

You hold the hot chocolate in your hand, sitting closer to the fire. It has to be past midnight, your soft whispers echoing around the room. You two have talked about everything; from your rocky relationship with your family to your friends. He talked about his family life as well, and how much he loves the forest.

"What kind of dragon are you?"

"I control agriculture and water. That's why I keep my home so close to it, I can feel everything. I could even feel when you and your friend fell in. The water is connected to me in such a way that if I concentrate on it, I can feel the sea life that lives in its depths. And when the forest breathes, I do. Everything is connected," he puts his hand on the ground, closing his eyes.

"Can't you feel it?"

His smile grows on his face, and you stare in awe. He's showing you his true self; the sharpness of his canines and the beautiful lift of his cheeks. Eyes closed into small crescents and skin glowing with the flickering of the fire. You've never seen him so relaxed, free of woes and anxiety. It's a beautiful sight.

"Do you feel it, y/n?" This time his eyes are open, resting on yours. It's not a lust filled gaze, not emotionless. It's filled with... something you didn't expect to see.

Care.

"Yes, I can." You say, the double meaning behind your words apparent. He smiles softly, looking to the floor.

"It's not proper for you to stay at a dragon's home, but I cannot let you go back down the mountain at this time of night. Not that you won't be with me, which you will, but there's too much danger when it's the night. I would prefer it if you stayed here." He scratches the back of his head. "Ah, but I only have one bed. I can sleep on the couch while you rest there."

You place your cup on the stump coffee table, shaking your head quickly. "I can't just take over your bed."

"I'm not letting you stay in the living area, y/n." He says, not leaving room for protest. "There's spare clothing in my room, and there's running water as well. Please, take as long as you'd like. I'll wait for you to finish."

You purse your lips, and he raises his eyebrow, waiting for you to challenge him. But you're too exhausted to give a hint of your usual sass so you nod, standing up.

"My room is the last door to the right. And the bathing area is right across from it." He says, grabbing your cup and walking into the kitchen. You watch him for a moment before following where he tells you to go.

You push the door open to his room slowly, peeking inside. You aren’t sure what you expected; but this isn’t what you think a bachelor pad would look like. His room has shelves of books everywhere, some in languages you can’t even pinpoint. The earthy smell of Yeosang swirls around the room, and you take it in, the scent comforting. Scattered papers lay across his desk, but you ignore all of them, walking to his closet and peeking inside. It’s lined with mostly dark colors, so you grab whatever pops in front of your face before closing it quickly. A small thought dawns on you.

You don’t have any underwear.

Your eyes flick to the drawer in the corner, but you shake your head. Nope. Even if he’s your mate, he’s still a complete stranger and going through a stranger’s things is a no-no. You quickly walk out, shutting the door behind you. Going commando is a thing, and you’ll embrace it! You glance into the living area before going into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

-

Yeosang sits on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. He can hear the scolding of his brothers in his head right now, telling him that this is a bad idea, being alone with you. Telling him that he should have rejected you long ago; that his presence in your life will only make it harder for him to resist you. Because technically, you aren’t his. Not until his marks cover you.

A small knock on his door makes him tense up. He’s been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear the pitter patter of his elder brother coming to see him. He walks in without a care, glancing around the open space before staring at Yeosang. He hasn’t dropped his glamor, eyes still the solid human brown. He frowns at Yeosang, closing the door behind him.

“Why have you brought her here again? Didn’t the others tell you how dangerous it is? You might hurt her, or worse. I thought you out of everyone would understand the risk.”

“I thought you would understand, since your partner right now is a Human. You’ve been around her for longer than myself and haven’t hurt her. Saying that I will is hypocritical.”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “You haven’t spent time with Humans in centuries. You find them revolting, you actively avoid their presence. And yet with y/n, you seem to do the complete opposite of what you usually do. Is this really because of Mother?”

Yeosang nods, but stops himself. “No. This is not only because of her. Yunho, I care about y/n. I do. She is different, much more different than the Humans I am used to. I don’t want to see her gone, not yet.” He mumbles. He can’t help but yearn for you, even when you’re still showering, oblivious to the conversation the two of them are having. “And you shouldn’t be here, anyway. You haven’t told her who you are, it’ll upset her when she finds out.”

“And I never was going to tell her, Yeosang. But, you messed everything up,” He growls in frustration. “All of the glamor I put on them, all of the backstory that I’ve made up so that she believes that we grew up with one another, you ruined it.”

“Just tell her!” Yeosang hisses. “y/n can take it. As well as Wooyoung.”

Yunho growls at the mention of his lover’s name, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing.

“She trusts you, and maybe her trust will sway a little, but in the end the two of you have been best friends since she was a child. You’ve spent more time with her than me, she won’t push you away.”

“You don’t know that,” Yunho confesses. “I care about y/n, more than you can ever know. I’ve had no problem with Humans since the beginning. I’ve seen the good nature in them, I’ve seen the destructive nature in them. I have seen them rejoice at their best and fall at their worst. y/n is a pure soul, and there are already very few. But with you… her soul will be tainted. And I don’t want that for her.”

“Mother wouldn’t make her my mate if it would have destroyed her soul.”

“I would agree if Mother wasn’t too occupied with other worlds to focus on ours. She doesn’t just have us as sons, Yeosang. Why do you think we rarely see here within a millennia? We aren’t her favorites, we are one of the first ones she’s created and abandoned. She won’t care about who she made our mates, or the outcome of it. She only cares about her most respected sons, the ones who can control whole planets on their own, not just elements.”

Yunho looks outside for a moment. “She couldn’t even think of one for me. She made me in charge of darkness. All I do is make the moon rise. You hold Earth’s waters in your hands. Mingi holds sunlight at his fingertips, Seonghwa controls the air we breathe and San controls fire. And I, darkness.” He looks at Yeosang, face solemn. “I am telling you this because y/n is more important to me than many things in this world. And I don’t want to be the one to console Wooyoung when you can no longer control the dragon within you, and hurt her in some way. And this isn’t me being a pessimist, this is me being realistic. Face it Yeosang, you aren’t capable of taking care of y/n the way you want to. You don’t even know what cell phones are.”

He sighs, pushing stray hairs from his face. “Just think about this more, alright? Don’t make a decision based on what Mother says, make it based on what’s in your head and heart. More so your head, because your heart only has that dragon controlling it.” He grumbles, taking one last look at the bathroom that you’re in before stepping out.

Yeosang watches him go, biting his lip, his arms still crossed against his chest. “Nice to see you after a few centuries too, Yunho.” He utters.

-

You wrap yourself in Yeosang’s blankets, the smell of him wrapping around you. You could hear Wooyoung and Yunho right now, screaming at you for even stepping outside your house without letting them know. Woo will probably combust from so much anger, Yun having to pick up the pieces from the floor. You puff, letting out a stressed breath. This is a bad idea. This is a really fucking, shitty ass bottom of the bottle, terrible idea.

Even though it’s almost 3am, you can’t even fall asleep. Your eyes won’t dare to shut no matter how much you squeeze them together. You’re not sure if it’s from nervousness or if you’re waiting for Yeosang to knock on your door and say something. You let out a low groan, pushing your blankets off of you and staring at the ceiling.

A mirror stares back at you, and you yelp, on the verge of screeching at your bed head staring back at you. What in the living hell? Why does he have a mirror? Does he watch himself sleep?? Is it a kinky thing? You gasp, staring at the sheets underneath you. Has he? On these sheets? You throw yourself out of the bed, paranoia running through your bones.

What the hell is going on with you? You’re pretty sure you’ve slept completely fine on Wooyoung’s sheets, even though he was known as the sex freak throughout your time as his coworker before he flipped his shit. You rub your face, small whimpers falling from your lips. All you want to do is sleep and yet here’s your mind, throwing water at you and saying no way.

A small knock on your door makes you jump, eyes flicking to the small crack.

“It’s Yeosang. Do you mind if I come in?” he asks softly, and you nod, before realizing that he can’t see you.

“Yes,” you mumble.

He pushes the door open slowly, looking at the bed. His shining eyes move to you curled up on the floor, curiosity in his gaze. But he doesn’t ask, sitting in the chair several feet away from you.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I usually don’t have much of an issue on most nights, but my eyes don’t want to close.”

You laugh, a breathy one barely escaping your lips. “Probably because I’m here,” You say, looking away from his gaze, not wanting to see him nod in agreement. “I can still leave, you know. I have a flashlight on my phone and walking down won’t be too bad…”

He snorts. “I’m not letting you walk alone at this time, and I can’t sleep because… Because now that you’re here, my dragon, no, I want to rest next to you.” You don’t lift your head, and he wonders if he offended you in any way, so he quickly cleans up his words. “Being on the couch is fine, I have no issues with that. I can sleep anywhere. But with you here, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without you being close to me.” He admits, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I think being honest is best. You… can kick me out any time, I won’t be offended.”

You’re not, not at all. Instead, you feel your chest flutter with the possibility of Yeosang holding you close, his head resting on top of yours, your back against his chest as he presses his lips to your temple and you both fall asleep.

“I want you.” You say simply.

You don’t see the way his face turns pink at your words, ears burning red. You quickly realize what you’ve said, and you backpedal quickly.

“I mean! Haha, I was saying that I want to sleep with you, in the same bed. Like, because we’re tired, not the other,” You throw your head back in frustration. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughs, and you enjoy the sound. “No, I get what you mean. I want to do that. We should do that.”

You stand up, crawling back underneath the covers. Yeosang follows your lead, lifting up the covers and sliding underneath. Your warmth compared to his cool skin gives you a different feeling. You stare at the ceiling, eyes on him. He met yours, a small smile on his lips.

“You can’t fall asleep with your eyes open,” he says simply, and you snort, turning your back to him. He laughs, and you feel him slide, his back to you as well.

You stay like that for a few minutes, and you know what you want. You’re an adult, all you have to say is-

“Do you mind if I hold you?” he whispers, his body turning to you. A small yes escapes you, and he doesn’t hesitate, pulling you against him.

His chest rests against your back, rising and lifting slowly. Your feet press against his legs, and he basks in their warmth. He wraps his arms around your waist, face in your hair. He takes this moment to breathe you in, your smell surrounding him. His skin is several degrees colder than yours, and the dragon in him tries its best to pull you as close as possible, without hurting you.

Your eyes flutter close, comfort quicker than before. Yeosang mumbles a soft goodnight into your ear, and you whisper it back. Your trip to sleep land is quick.

-

The sun shining through the windows wakes you up in the morning. You squint, trying your best to blink away the night. It feels like weights are trying to keep your eyes closed, but you know it's probably midday, already too long to stay in bed. Your boss is probably endlessly calling you about your assignment for the week. You stretch your arms slowly, palms hitting a solid body. You almost scream, until you think back to last night.

You roll over. Yeosang is still fast asleep, his chest rumbling every time he exhales. His hair is a mess, covering most of his face. You reach out to push it away from his face, but you stop yourself, dropping your arm. He pulls you closer, and you yelp softly, your chest pressed against his. His eyes slowly open, looking down at yours.

"Good morning," You say softly.

He says nothing for a moment, eyes flicking between yours. He blinks slowly, breaths slow. His hands are pressing against your bare back, and you feel something, some thing hard against your stomach. He nuzzles his nose against your forehead, sniffing softly.

You push your hands against his chest, and he tenses up. "Time to go back, yes?"

He quickly lets go, leaning up in bed. He looks at you, glancing down at you wearing his clothes, face darkening. "I need to use the bathroom." He stands quickly walking out and not ever looking back.

You glance down, seeing your nipples perked, on display for the world to see. Now you feel your face warm as you look around the room for your bra. You usually sleep with the bare minimum on, so you're glad he didn't barge in when you were getting dressed. Wearing the same underwear twice in a row is gross, and going commando once in a while couldn't hurt. But you're in his home, wearing his clothes. You slap yourself, grabbing your bra from your dirty clothes pile and quickly putting it on before he walks back in.

You think back to last night, his cool hands wrapped around your waist, soothing in the early morning. If this happened a couple of weeks ago you'd freak, demand that he bring you back home and you'd never see him again. But you like the way he feels, hands oddly soft for a man his size. Pressed lightly against your bare stomach, never traveling lower. Lips pressed against your neck, tongue—

Your hand flicks up to your neck, and you quickly look in the ceiling mirror. Nothing's there, and you sigh in relief. And a bit of disappointment, but you'd rather deal with those feelings by yourself later.

"The bathroom is ready," Yeosang says, not daring to step in the room. I've left a fresh pair of clothing. I don't grow, so everything is my size. And I've realized that..." His face is completely red now. "I don't have any new underwear to give you, since I don't wear any. I'm sorry about that."

You try to keep your eyes on his, not daring to flick down. No, you're being good. Definitely not imagining what he looks like with those pants off. Nope, not at all. Yeosang sniffs, and backs away slightly.

"I'll be in the living room. You can come whenever you're ready, and then we can go back to your home."

He walks away, leaving the door wide open. You scratch your head, grabbing your things and bolting to the bathroom, not daring to even take a glance into the living area.

-

His fingers are gripping his thigh so tight, hard enough to tear. He tries to keep his thoughts empty, but all he can think of is holding you in his arms, his dragon so close to your neck, so close to making you his. Yunho is right; he isn't ready for this. He isn't ready for you, and he's not sure if he'll ever be. You're so delicate, so alive and warm and Human, the complete opposite of him. He's cold, his heart pumps blood but it's useless, he can't die. You're a Human, and he's a dragon.

And nothing will change that.

But he can't stop thinking of how your body curves into his, how you're the perfect size for him to wrap around. How he loves how soft you are under his touch, how you smell. Why are you so enticing, so beautiful and fragile? Yeosang looks at the floor, straining his dragon. He's barely holding himself back. He can't do this anymore. He can't see you anymore, not like this. Not even as friends.

He doesn't want to say it out loud, but after today, he won't be coming back to you. He'll move his home away, in another forest far enough away that you wouldn't look. But close enough that if you're in danger, he'd be able to get there at a moment's notice.

Don't. His dragon whispers to him. This decision will only hurt more. It will hurt us being away from her.

He shakes off the voice, keeping his thoughts rational. No, nothing can change his mind. Nothing.

You walk into the living room, seeing Yeosang stare off into the forest outside. He looks back at you, his eyes a darker brown. Different from the beautiful blue you're used to looking into.

"Yeosang, your eyes—"

He nods. "In case we stumble into Humans hiking. It's better to make myself look like them, so that I don't have to deal with the aftermath. Are you ready to go?" He doesn't seem fazed by you wearing his clothing, eyes calmer than you've ever seen them. You nod, and he walks outside, you follow close behind.

He says nothing to you, despite your long talks from only hours ago. Yeosang keeps several feet ahead of you, ears probably listening to your every movement. You’re not sure what happened over the course of these few hours, but you can’t help but feel worried. Did you do something to bother him? Did it bother him that you accepted his offer so easily? Did you offend him when you were talking last night?

You stumble over a rock, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to glance back. “Be careful of your footing,” He says.

"Did I do something?" You ask after about a half hour of walking. He shakes his head, but doesn't give you a verbal response. Your irritation rises as he keeps his back to you, not even bothering to acknowledge you with a look.

"Is it because you think I'm easy or something? Or did I offend you with something I said last night?"

He shakes his head again, and you stop in your spot. No. You're not going to do this wordless answering anymore. Yeosang sighs, staring straight forward.

"The sun won't be in the sky all day, y/n. It's best to move quickly so that you're safe in your home."

"I won't move until you look at me and tell me what's wrong so we can fix this."

He looks back at you, his lips tight. His eyes are cold, the beautiful warmth from mere hours ago gone from his face. It's like you're a stranger, nothing to him. He pushes a stray strand, tucking it behind his ear.

"It's nothing."

"It's something, or you won't be treating me like shit."

"If you stopped acting so entitled, then maybe you won't feel that way." He hisses, the blue slightly breaking between the brown contacts.

"Excuse me? Me, entitled? You're the one that brought me to your house, kicked me out and then banged on my door, humping it like a dog in heat. And then you barged into my home unannounced, basically on your knees to be my friend. And then you say that I'm your mate. And you're telling me that I'm entitled? When all I've done is accept you when I’ve wanted to push you away. I even believed that you’re a dragon! I didn't even question it!"

You're sick of it, sick of this hot and cold, this warmth and bittersweetness. You just want him to accept you as you are, and not push you away. You just want him to tell you what's wrong.

He stares at you. "All of you Humans are the same. Valuing your lives above everyone else's. Not admitting your mistakes, blaming it on everyone except yourself. You are the one who grabbed Yeouiju from the ground. You are the one who took it away. You started this all, and yet you continue to blame it on me."

The anger emits from your body as you stare at him blaming this all on you. Fuck him, fuck all of this! You storm past him, too tired to give a rat's ass about what he has to say. He grabs your arm, stopping you.

"Didn't you want to know why I'm annoyed?" He asks, and you push him away. He resists, and you struggle against his grip.

"You know what, Dragon? I don't give a fuck why you're mad. Because I've done absolutely nothing but accept you as you are, I've cared for you and all I get back is anger and you continuing to push me away after you open up. I'm tired, I'm tired of playing these games with you. I've never hated someone as much as I do you." You pull again, and this time, you stumble back.

But he doesn't reach for you, letting you fall to the ground. You struggle to your feet, ignoring the dirt that sticks to your clothes. No, his clothes. Yeosang opens his mouth, but you hold one finger up.

"Yeosang, I thought this was going to be something, you know? I thought you were going to accept me being a Human and you being a Dragon. I thought we were going to learn about one another and one day... One day ..."

He knows what you want to say. He desperately waits for the word to fall from your lips, but you shake your head again.

"Don't follow me. I can make it back on my own without your help."

You continue down the mountain, cursing at yourself for believing that he'd never hurt you, that he cares about you. You hope that you can forget what he told you last night, his silent plea for you to care for him completely vanishes from your mind. Your tears stain your cheek as you walk down, but you don't dare to wipe them.

Yeosang's eyes follow your figure, until you completely disappear from your view. He can adjust his sight to watch you go back home, but it'll only be more painful for him. He clenches his fingers, claws digging into the flesh. This is the best way. You, hating him and thinking that he no longer cares for you. It's the only way to keep you safe, he thinks. It's the only way that he can assure you won't come looking for him.

He takes a deep breath, before turning back and walking back home.

-

Wooyoung sees how slow you walk around your kitchen, the bright you he's used to gone. He's not sure what's happened in the past few days, but he doesn't pressure you to say it. You're still writing and editing, so it's nothing with your job. Yunho, even with his endless jokes, doesn't crack a smile on your face. You only nod although, downing your fifth coffee of the day.

"I'm worried about her," Wooyoung says. "She's not herself. y/n always gets into slumps, but nothing this severe. She won't even push us away and never rejects our invitations to stay over. She hates when we're here longer than necessary, Yun." Wooyoung says softly, ear listening to the clicking of you typing on your computer. You keep your headphones in usually, but he wants to make sure you're not listening.

"She even leaves the house, and she never leaves the house. I mean, I've never seen her cupboard so full of crap. It's like she's here, but not. Not really."

"I know." Yunho replies, eyes on your door. Wooyoung can't see, but he can. He can see as your fingers shakes as you type, eyes unfocused. It's you desperately trying to hold on to what you have left, and he knows it's his fault. He frowns softly.

This isn't how it is supposed to be. You're supposed to welcome Yeosang being out of your life, free of the danger that is him. But it seems to only take a toll on you. And there's only one person he can ask about what to do.

Mother.

"Woo, want to stay here for a bit? I'm going to buy us some dinner and I'll be back."

Wooyoung nods at his words, biting his lip in nervousness. Yunho pecks it quickly before standing up, walking out the door. He parks the car a ways away from the property, before closing his eyes. He looks up at the stars, finally locating the one he wants to talk to.

"Hi Mother. I have an issue I need to solve. It's Yeosang, and his mate."

-

Two days go by. Then a week. Then a month. You hike up the mountain, eyes desperately looking for a glimpse of him. But the other side of the river is empty, Yeosang's cottage long gone. You fall to the grass, sobs rocking through you. You don't even feel him with you, our chest void of Yeosang. You never thought that not seeing him would make you feel this way. Like the world ended.

But you tried to move on. You let Yunho and Wooyoung over to your house often, their hilarious behavior letting out small smiles from you. Even if they're a bit strained. Wooyoung noticed the change of behavior in you. He tried to interrogate you about it, but what could you say? It's not like you were in a relationship with him; no, he is, was, just a friend of yours. And even saying that is a stretch. But how can you explain that you feel like your heart is shattered into dozens of pieces, unable to glue back together?

So all you tell him is that you're fine. That it must be the change of seasons, that's all. And he believes you, at least for now. And Yunho, you know that he can see through your facade. He can see how broken you are, although he doesn't say it. But he's over at your home more often than Wooyoung is, cooking for you and reminding you to leave your house often. And you're glad to have someone like him so close to you, someone who's been with you your whole life and won't disappear on a whim.

-

Yeosang sits on his couch, so interested in his sewing that he hasn't noticed all of his brothers arriving in his room, staring at him. Even for an immortal, they have to nourish themselves. Yeosang feeds on sunlight but he hasn't left his home in so long. His cheeks are beginning to look hollow, his eyes losing the steady light that always shined brightly. The tanned dragon is slowly turning gray.

"You can't keep on doing this, it's draining you." Mingi says, tapping him. "I've never seen an immortal close to death, but you look like it. You're losing your shine, Yeosang. Your hair is falling out. You need to go outside."

Yeosang shakes his head. "I don't need to control water and plants from outside. All I have to do is flick my wrist, and they'll be fine."

"Stop acting like a child, it's like you've lost someone," Seonghwa grumbles, and he sees him stop in his sewing for a moment, before continuing. "Wait, when was the last time you've seen y/n?"

"It doesn't matter."

They all exchange looks, before their eyes land on Yunho. Yunho says nothing, staring at his younger brother. He's never seen Yeosang so frail, so weak. He rubs his face. This isn't what he wants. He wants you to be safe, he wants Yeosang to learn how to interact with Humans before becoming your mate. But hiding out in this cottage? Not saying anything to anyone for months at a time?

"What did you say to him?" San shakes his head. "Even we didn't interfere with how he and y/n interacted. You should know better than to involve yourself with mates. You know what happens if they're separated for too long."

"She's not my mate," Yeosang says softly. His voice is a bit scratchy from not talking for so long. "We didn't complete the marking. She is still free to live her life. To be unrestricted."

"That's not how it works, Yeo," Yunho finally says. "That's how our species mates, yes. But you both, you are soulmates. Lost in their creation, and split in two. And when you met, they finally lived in harmony. But when you separate them like this, it will only slowly kill you. You have to stay with your other soul." He looks at Yeosang, reaching out and stopping his hand from moving.

"I said those things about you out of anger. Your soul won't hurt her, it's destined to protect her. To protect her soul. Yes, you have to beware of your dragon, for he is fearsome. But that is all you have to worry about. y/n is yours, you two are meant to be."

"That's why, when San and I finally visited y/n, we knew. We saw how entwined your souls were, and we vowed to never try to separate you two. Seonghwa did as well, but it seems like Yunho didn't get the message," Mingi glares at the eldest. "But you have to go back to her. Her soul is yours, and yours is hers. Please just fix this."

Yeosang scoffs, pushing his hand away. He runs his fingers through his overgrown locks, hair in serious need for a wash. He thinks back to how he cut the ties with you, left you walking down the mountain alone, not even daring to look back. You're better off without him now.

"Mother told me." Yunho says, seeing the resistance in Yeosang's face. "She told me what happens when you're separated from your mate and reject them."

Seonghwa shakes his head. "This is why you shouldn't have involved yourself, Yun. Mind your business next time, like the rest of us."

"There's no use arguing about it," Mingi says softly. "Yeosang will make his decision, and that's it. We will respect it and move on. But let's give him some time alone." He looks at how pained his brother looks, and hates that they were a primary cause of it. "I'll see you in a bit, yes?" He pats Yeosang's shoulder, walking out.

San says nothing, following close behind. Seonghwa already disappeared into thin air, a bit ironic since he controls it. Yunho is the last one left.

"Go." Yeosang says simply. "I'll figure this out, but you need to leave. I know you wanted what was best for both of us, but you made a mistake, and now we have to suffer because of it."

Yeosang looked at him, the blue faded. "Give me some time."

Yunho nods. "If it makes it better, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to get this far." He turns, walking out the cottage and closing the door behind him.

Yeosang slowly puts his materials away, thoughts consumed with you. You standing on the other side of the river, sobs reaching him as he watched you, too terrified to tell you that he never left. That he just hid his home from you. That despite Yunho's warnings he couldn't bear to leave you alone, not without being close enough to feel your presence.

He grabs his dirty plates off his small wooden table, tossing them into the sink so roughly a few break from impact. He leans over the small sink, staring down at the shards decorating the bottom. He's rejected the idea of you for so long, he doesn't know what it means to finally accept you for who you are. If he's true to himself, he has pushed you away even before Yunho told him to. He didn't like the idea of you and expressed it vehemently to you whenever he was given the chance. Now, his dragon is finally content in his chest, accepting you fully.

He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Now all he has to do is see if you're willing to love him back.

-

You bang your fist on your keyboard, groaning. All of that progress, all of the hard work and dedication you put into editing is gone. Washed down the drain of the internet, never to be seen again. The document somehow deleted since the last time you looked at it, only the first draft sitting on your desktop. You're too exhausted to even complain about it, needing coffee more than anything else.

But you don't have coffee. You rub your neck, hands landing on the rock necklace that graces your throat. You touch it softly, before reaching back and taking it off, tossing it in a small drawer in your desk. You don't need it, you don't need him. But you don't have the heart to throw it away. You glare at the drawer one last time, before grabbing your bag, leaving him behind.

-

Yeosang washes his hair quickly, the hot water not enough to scrub away his regrets. He steps out of the shower, glancing at himself in the mirror. He looks exhausted, eyes void of emotion and cheeks a bit sickly. He touches his facial hair, growing a small beard from not shaving. He eyes the razor in the corner of the sink.

Should he trim it? Perhaps you'll like the beard on his face, different from the dragon you're used to. He grabs it, and the scissors, trimming it low enough to leave a shadow, but not all the way down. He already trimmed his hair in the shower, still long enough to tuck it back into a bun if he wanted to. He brushes it back, before he feels the fingers throb.

He stares down at them, seeing the glow rise. You took off the necklace. His heart drops, mood immediately anxious. Did you not listen to him? You needed to keep it on when he's not around you, he won't be able to protect you all the time—

He grabs his sweats, not bothering to dry himself off completely. You couldn't have gone that far.

-

You stare at the prices of vegetables, frowning. Did they increase them somehow? You haven't shopped by yourself in forever, but were they always this expensive? You glare at the outside of the pepper, rubbing it slightly. It's too shiny for your liking, probably filled with nasty pesticides and other gross things to make them look this way. You groan, throwing it back into the pile. You should have stolen some from Yeo— your friend's herb garden. Or maybe one day investing on your own. You have the acres, all you need to do is use them.

You grab the most natural looking one that doesn't have brown spots, and toss it into your basket. You don't notice the frantic look of a man who's just walked into the grocery store, eyes searching for only you.

You excuse yourself around a elderly couple, smiling at the woman as she scolds her husband for picking the item that's three cents more. It warms your heart to see older couples; thinking of what brought them together and how they're still together. Did they meet when they were in high school? Maybe in the middle of school dance? Or did they meet in college, eyes meeting one another across the library? Maybe reuniting after years of not being with one another, too scared to tell the other how they feel? Your mind runs through these scenarios, until your eyes land on a man not too far away from you.

If you didn't recognize the giant coat he loves to wear, you would have dismissed him. But the pumping of your heart in your ears, the dryness of your throat as your eyes land on him. He's talking to an employee of the store, eyes the cold brown you hate. He turns around, stopping in his words, and looks to you. You clutch your basket between your fingers, not daring to move as he nods at the employee once, before walking over to you. He's not that tall, you've seen taller, but he walks with purpose, head held high.

You snap out of your daze, placing your basket to the side and excusing yourself as you navigate through the people, walking out the door. No, he can't just show up again. Not after pushing you away with a stupid explanation, leaving you to deal with whatever is between you on your own. Your hand fumbles with the keys in your pocket as you jog to your car, chest rising and falling quickly.

You click the unlock button, glancing back and forth before crossing the street. You don't see the cyclist pedaling quickly, staring at his phone instead of what's in front of him. Before he gets too close, a hand yanks you forward.You shriek, falling forward into his chest. The man in the bike yells a quick apology before pedaling away, seeing the glare of Yeosang, seeping through the contacts he wears. You pull back away from him, dusting off your clothing before opening the door of your car.

Yeosang pushes on it, closing it back.You groan, rubbing your face in frustration.

"Why did you take off your necklace?" He demands, the first words to come out of his mouth since he left you.

Is that what this is about? A stupid rock necklace? "What? Did you want it back or something? I can give it back to you, just leave me alone."

He shakes his head in frustration. "No, y/n. It's not just a decorative item. It protects you when I'm not around. That is why I gave it to you. You cannot just throw it to the side."

You huff. "I don't need your protection. If I did, you wouldn't have left. You would have stayed, but you didn't. Please just let me go home, I don't need this right now. I want to be alone."

"Can you listen to me for five minutes? I can explain why I left if you'd just listen to me. Please." He tries to catch your gaze but you avoid his eyes.

No. You won't be pulled into this sob story of his again. You don't care about the balance of the world or his problems anymore. You've moved on. Just like he wanted you to. You pull on the door again, but he doesn't move his hand.

"You're not asking, are you?"

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "I just, I really need you to listen. We don't have to do it out here, we can go to your home—"

Absolutely the fuck not. Even him standing here is making you feel things you'd rather not. Being in your small home, his scent swirling around? You'd probably go more feral than you already are.

"Follow me," You press the lock on your car, marching over to a small bench. You sit down, gesturing for him to follow. He kept his distance, sitting as far away as he could. He looks at you, waiting. Waiting for your eyes to meet his, but you stare ahead, lips in a straight line. You're giving him little pull, but he accepts it. He hurt you, and still is. Even this small communication between you is more than he deserves.

"You already know about the mates thing and about me being a dragon."

A woman walks but raises her eyebrow and pulls her child closer, pace increasing.

"I didn't want to leave you. I didn't tell you, but one of my brothers came to see me the night you stayed at my home. He was concerned about my acceptance of you being a Human, and empathized that I hated Humans so much that it wouldn't work. That I'm not around them enough to be able to even comprehend how to care for one. That I will hurt you like one of the others did. And I was scared."

You play with the skin next to your fingernails, biting your lip. You never would've guessed that the big, bad dragon could be scared. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he's still looking at you. Gaze steady. Eyes sure.

"That's why I let you go. Made you believe that I wanted you gone, even though I wanted you to stay, I wanted to be there for you as much as I could. But I couldn't risk your life just for my pleasure of seeing you. I didn't want to do that. So I hide away from you. I saw you, when you walked back up the mountain. Crying when you saw my cottage gone." He looks down, feeling his eyes grow watery. He wipes it away, continuing. "I desperately wanted to run to you and say that I'd never leave you. But that would only lead down a bad path. At least, that's what I thought until recently."

"He told me that mates are more than that. That he made a mistake. My brother, Mingi, found his long ago even though he killed them by accident. He hasn't been the same since, and we weren't sure why. We thought it was grief, but it's so much more than that."

His eyes flick back and forth. "I don't know if this term is correct, but he phrased it as 'soulmates'. Two souls so entwined that whenever they separate for too long, or a rejection, they slowly die."

You finally turn to him. You see the fading of his beautiful hair, a slight beard covering his face. He reaches up, taking out his contacts. He looks at you, and you hold back your gasp. The beautiful blue you're used to seeing is faded, as if he's aged centuries in only a few months. You reach out, rubbing away a tear that falls without thinking. You pull back quickly, blinking quickly.

"I'm dying. And you're dying too, but it's not as obvious." His eyes flick around your face; from the deep bags underneath your eyes to the lifeless hair that you have pulled back from your face. You laugh dryly, shaking your head.

"Being tired doesn't mean I'm dying."

You say those words, but you believe him. Besides the last time you saw him, he's never lied to you. You feel the exhaustion sticking to your bones. But right when your eyes met his in that parking lot, things immediately felt lighter. The fluorescent lights in the shabby supermarket didn't burn as much. You were literally stuck in place as he walked up to you.

"I'm sorry." He says again. "I'm sorry for doing this to you, for pushing you away when I wanted you next to me. I can't stop thinking about you." He admits. "And I know you won't welcome me into your arms quickly, but I hope that we can start again, from the beginning."

You want to. You want to pretend that you don't want to do it desperately, but you do. You miss him, you miss the smile that he shows you, you miss the slight pout he makes when he's in deep thought, the slight widening of his eyes as he speaks about something he loves. You can't stop thinking about him, either. You nod.

"Okay, but no more secrets."

He closes his eyes. "What if the secret isn't mine to tell?"

You turn to him sharply. "There's something else? Yeosang, what the fuck? Are you a God or something now?"

He stares at you for a long minute, before throwing back his head in laughter. "I didn't tell you this, but Humans long ago used to pray to my brothers and I, giving sacrifices and holding ceremonies in our honor." He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. "I couldn't ever understand why. We were prevented from interfering, but why sacrifice to someone you cannot see or feel? And why do you think that we will accept that? It's a strange behavior." He cocks his head for a moment, shaking his head.

"You're avoiding my question," you narrow your eyes. "What's the secret?"

He purses his lips. "It would be best if you bring your friends Wooyoung and Yunho over to your home so that we may discuss it together. It's impossible for me to tell on my own."

"You need my friends to tell your secret?" You question, and he nods.

"It will be best if they are there, yes."

"And why does it need to be in my house? Can't we go somewhere in public?"

He sighs. "I have already been given strange looks as people heard my words walking by. I am supposed to keep my presence a mystery, and not show myself. But I am already out here in public, this only makes matters more dire."

You chuckle. This silly dragon. "No one would believe your words. I'll invite them, but I still need to go shopping." You stand, and he follows your movements. "Are you coming?"

He nods quickly.

-

He follows close behind you as you grab the basket you left, thankfully still in the same spot as before. You look around the aisles, nose wrinkling as his scent fills your nose. You’re still a bit annoyed with him, angry if you really think about it, so him being so close and copying your every movement slightly irritates you. You turn back, and he looks down at you.

“Have you forgotten what you wanted to get?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No. But do you have to stand so close? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere,” You walk forward, the stomping of his feet echoing around the small store. If he’s any louder he’d break the tiles, you think.

Your eyes look for the sign for coffee, but before you could walk down, Yeosang brushes past you, eyes focused ahead. He picks up a small container and points it to you. A dragon covers the front of the box, one of the popular name brands you’re used to seeing. You see the slight pout grace his lips as he points at it.

“Dragons don’t look like this, why do Humans depict it this way?”

You shrug, “Probably because of how friendly it looks? No one wants a terrifying dragon on the outside of a box. Most things are made to look approachable, not scary.”

“But we don’t breathe fire, well, none of us but San,” He puts it on the shelf. “Humans long ago wouldn’t dare do such a thing. They cherished our presence, and would never defame us this way.”

He goes on and on about the treatment of dragons as you look through the varieties of coffee, hopefully finding the one you enjoy the most. Yeosang grabs something else, and before you could scold him for it, he hands you your favorite brand.

You raise your brows in surprise.“How’s you know?”

“Because it smells like you,” he says simply, grabbing another. “And I like how it smells on you. How many do you want?” He holds another in his hand, and you shake him away.

“Only two. Coffee isn’t that good for you, you know. And I love the caffeine, so I can’t get decaf,” you say, walking down the next aisle.

His eyes roam around the store in wonder, quickly tagging behind you whenever your smell fades. You wince whenever he bumps into a display or shelf, but admire him when he helps an older man pick something off a shelf. He complains about despising Humans constantly, but all you see is a clumsy, gentle man not so carefully guiding his way through the store with a slight smile on his face. Whatever his other brother said to him, you can’t believe it. No one that hated people this much could walk around you all with such a calm demeanor. He’s been hiding that he cares for so long, and you decide to ask him about that another time.

You put your items on the conveyor belt, Yeosang watching as the cashier slowly scans your items. He gives Yeosang an odd look but says nothing, telling you your total.

“I didn’t see you bring anything to trade,” he whispers. God, when was the last time he’s left the house? You pass the cashier the money as Yeosang stares in confusion as the currency is exchanged. You reach to grab the bags but Yeosang takes it from you, walking out the store.

“Paper? You give him paper in exchange for all of those goods? Is this how society is now?”

“When was the last time you got some fresh air besides today?” You ask him, and he thinks deeply.

“The last time I left was when people exchanged goods for goods. A cloth for a few tomatoes. Things like that.”

He hasn’t been outside in hundreds of years.

“How do you have all of those things in your house then? A shower, clothes, dishes?”

“My brothers bring me most things since they know how I feel about the Human world. And I make many on my own. Water freely runs through my shower because I control it. I don’t need the modern plumbing that you have in your home. As I told you before, there’s no reason for me to go outside since I can grow my own plants easily.”

“So water just appears out of thin air?” You can’t believe it.

He laughs as you open the door to your car, placing the bags on your backseat. He glances around the neighborhood, before holding up his hand. You feel a slight breeze as he points to his hand, slowly twirling his fingers. A small tornado appears in his hand, but instead of wind it’s a whirlpool, droplets of water spinning quickly. He watches as you stare at it in amazement. You reach your finger to poke it, and he stops, the water dripping into his hand, back into its normal state. He blows on it and it disappears into the air, as if he just didn’t make it come to him.

“All air has a bit of water in it. Since Seonghwa controls the air, he’s always frustrated when I do things like that, but yes. Water out of thin air.”

You grin widely. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

A blush immediately covers his face, and you laugh. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you glance down, seeing the caller ID.

“Hey-”

“Why are you calling me to your house? And you said it’s an emergency? Why don’t you call the police and why are you being so vague?” Wooyoung spitfires the questions one after another, “I swear to the fucking hills, if you went into that forest again I’ll literally bury you myself. Eight feet under.”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he can’t see it. “Can you relax for two seconds, please? So, do you remember that Dragon egg thing that we found in the forest?“

“We found? You mean you found, and irresponsibly brought into your home, not knowing anything about it and me finding out that it’s basically a mating egg-”

Yeosang pulls the cell phone away from you, placing it next to his ear. “Listen, Wooyoung, right?”

“Who in the living fuck-”

“We don’t have time for your antics. Listen to what y/n has to say, and come to her home. And as a clarification, it is not a dragon egg or a mating egg. It is Yeouiju, and it stays in my possession.” He hands the phone back to you, a triumphant look in his eyes.

You put the phone back to your ear, “Hey.”

There’s silence for a moment. “That’s the dragon, isn’t it?” He asks softly. “What the Hell have you gotten yourself into, y/n?”

“Just bring Yunho with you and come to my house in a few hours, alright? I’ll give you food and everything.”

“Alright,” You almost hit the end call button, but Wooyoung shrieks before you can. “Are you okay? I know he can probably hear me, but are you safe?”

You glance at Yeosang, and he’s staring off into the street, but you know he’s listening. The way his ear twitches when he hears himself being mentioned is proof enough. ”He won’t hurt me, I’m okay. See you later.” You hang up, unlocking the door to your car.

You gesture for Yeosang to enter, and he struggles for a moment, before finally swinging the door too wide and jumping inside. He slams it rather hard and you wince. He looks at you apologetically.

“It would be easier for me to bring the both of us back to your home,” He says, rubbing his neck. “That’s what wings are for.”

You gasp a bit too loudly, and he looks at you in concern. “So that night, I was right! You do have wings-! Wait, no, let’s deal with this later.” You turn on your car, glancing both ways before looking at Yeosang. He watches you, his head cocked.

“Put on your seat belt.” You say.

“What’s a seat belt?” You point to yours, and he looks behind him, seeing it resting inside the interior. He glances at you once more before yanking on it.

You hear a loud crack, and pray to the heavens that he didn’t break it. You peek over, seeing a large, gaping hole where the seat belt used to be. Your poor car, the only one that you’ve had since high school. Your baby. And he broke her.

He looks at you quickly, “Ah! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ll fix it!” He reaches out to touch it, but you grab his hand, stopping him.

“No, no. It’s fine, just pretend that you have a seat belt and don’t jump out of the window. You’ll be fine. My car will be fine.”

You take one more look at the hole, a pained clench to your heart.

-

You finally get home after the long and quiet ride, Yeosang's eyes rarely leaving your face as you drive. You never felt more unsafe in this small car of yours, his hair brushing against the ceiling of your car, your hands sweaty against the wheel. He smiled whenever you made a snide comment at a terrible driver, glaring at them as you passed by.

"I've never seen you so furious. This is worse than when you're stuck at your computer." He mumbles, rubbing between your eyebrows. Your eyes flutter at his touch as he tries to rub away the frown lines. "There's much more things to worry about in life than incompetent carriages."

"Like," he leans forward, a smirk on his lips as you lean away, "A dragon in yours."

"Yea, yea. But from the time that I've met you to now, you're not as scary as before."

The smirk drops from his lips. He thinks for a moment, moving back. His eyes flick to you, before looking away.

"Did I scare you back then? I didn't realize how much of an impact it would have had on you, but I'm deeply sorry. That's not me; I won't ever do that again. Not when I'm clear-headed." He looks at you, a strained smile cracking his cool facade. "I won't hurt you."

"I already know that, Yeo. At least, physically." You get out of the car before he could ask more questions, already putting behind the months without talking to him. You're still a bit pissed about it, yes, but your mother always taught you that it's better for you to move on. No need to dwell on the bad things in your life.

Yeosang helps you carry the bags into your home, watching as you walk around the kitchen and put things away. Your phone vibrates, and you see that Wooyoung messaged you about being about fifteen or so minutes away. You run your fingers through your hair, looking up at Yeosang. He sits on the stool, staring at his hands.

"Is it that bad?" You ask softly. "That you need to bring my friends?"

His eyes look at you pitifully. "I wish I could explain it to you myself, but it's too close to home. It wouldn't be right for me to explain this story without them being here. They both... Need to be present in order for you to believe that it's true. Especially Wooyoung." He rubs his chin, the scratching of his hairs echoing around the kitchen.

You aren't one to care whether or not a man has a beard, but your eyes keep on trailing back to the nine o'clock shadow covering his cheeks, to the new piercings that cover his ear. Whatever happened these past few months; you know he's gotten more attractive. Even the aura around him seems more sure of himself, the fearful mate gone. Your eyes move to his lips, unconsciously licking your own.

"y/n?"

You snap out of it, eyes back on his. He looks at you in amusement, a playful look in his eyes. You clear your throat, and he points to the door.

"I believe your friends are here."

You nod, quickly walking over and throwing open the door. Wooyoung looks at you, hair a mess and a wary look in his eyes. Standing a couple of feet away from him is Yunho, the grin always stuck on his face. He looks as sharp as usual, probably just coming back from the hospital. Wooyoung walks in, Yunho squeezing your shoulder as he walks by, completely different from the cold shoulder he's been giving you for days.

Wooyoung looks at Yeosang sitting in the kitchen and freezes in his steps for a moment. Yeosang stands, holding out his hand to Wooyoung. Your friend takes it, his body trembling slightly.

"Pleasure to meet you," Yeosang rumbles. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And I've heard nothing about you," Wooyoung murmurs, glancing at you in silent anger. Yunho takes a step into the kitchen, eyes on Yeosang.

You notice the air tense up once they look at one another. The Yunho that greeted you at the door is gone, replaced with a solemn him. He nods at Yeosang, arms crossed against his chest. You shut the door behind you, walking and standing next to Wooyoung. You feel the anxiety emitting off of him and you rub his fingers slowly, trying to calm him down.

They continue to look at each other in silent thought, as if they're communicating without speaking. Yeosang seems to grow in frustration as he looks at Yunho, and you knock on the table, trying to get their attention.

"What the hell is going on?" You ask, glancing between the two. "Do you know each other?" Wooyoung scoffs, and you look at him. "What?"

“It'll be hard for brothers not to know each other, right?" Wooyoung murmurs.

Brothers.

You look at Yeosang. He takes in a breath, looking down in shame. You look over at Yunho and he seems to be more relaxed, leaning against the counter as he looks at you. Too relaxed, as if Wooyoung didn't just tell you this groundbreaking fucking news.

Your head pounds as you take it in, seeing the obvious tension between the brothers. Brothers. They're brothers. Yeosang is a dragon, so that means ...

"You're a dragon," you say softly, eyes watering as you look at Yunho. He drops the careless act, taking a step to you. Wooyoung pulls you close to him, ignoring the low rumble of Yeosang's chest as he presses himself against you.

It's not possible. You've grown up with one another, you spent your whole life next to Yun. He can't be.

"Don't do that," Wooyoung says. "Don't try that everything's okay bullshit. You've lied to her, you lied to the both of us. So drop the cocky attitude and say it like it is."

Yunho touches the edge of the counter, the island separating you and Wooyoung from the brothers. Humans from dragons.

"It's true. I didn't think I'd ever have to tell you this, but I am like Yeosang. I am a dragon." He closes his eyes, before opening them.

A dark abyss stares back at you, completely different from the bright blue you love to see. His is empty, just an endless void. He turns to Yeosang, before looking back at you.

"I didn't want to lie—"

"Just stop with the excuses and tell the story, Yunho. We don't have all night for your nonsense. We've heard enough of that for a millennia," Yeosang interrupts. "Say it."

"Watch your tone," Yunho growls, and you feel the room shake slightly at his rise in tone. Yeosang doesn't flinch though, an exasperated sigh falling from his lips. Yun looks back and you and Wooyoung.

"When you were young, I found you alone in your home. Your parents abandoned you when you were only five earth years old. Left you behind in that shack. At the time, I was very wary of taking care of you. I thought about bringing you to a local shelter. So, disguised as a Human, I flew to a nearby one. I dropped you off on the steps, but before I could let you go, you called me by my name. My true name."

He smiles. "I couldn't have fathomed that a Human child would even be able to know that. And then, I looked at the shelter I was to leave you at, and I couldn't. So I raised you as my own. I was your mother and father, putting up a mask so that you'd never know. I was your friend as well, taking care of you every moment that I could. I didn't want you to have a bad life; so I raised you in a small town with people you'd know. Once you grew and left home, I didn't have to pretend to be your parents anymore. I kept the thought in your head that you recently saw them, so you wouldn't be tempted to go back."

"You... you manipulated me." You say. "You made me think I had parents, that I had this life when I was always alone."

Yunho shakes his head. "No, you had me. We had each other. You were never alone, y/n."

All through elementary, high school and college, he's been your only friend. At least, until you met Wooyoung. You've been friends with someone that's lied to you for your whole life. Your head is throbbing terribly, and you rub it slowly, trying your best to calm yourself down before you faint or have a breakdown.

"Are you alright?" Yeosang asks, and you look at him. Your eyes are bright red, your body trembling. He stands up, walking around the corner to you.

You don't bother complaining as he pulls you out of Wooyoung's arms, turning on the faucet and pressing his wet fingers to your forehead. You feel a slightly burst of heat before it gets cool, crawling across your forehead and soothing your throbbing headache.

Yunho looks at you in concern, knowing that if he gets closer to you, it'll only get worse. Yeosang bends over as he stares at you, waiting for you to tell him you're okay. You nod slowly, and he stares at you for a moment more before sitting back down in his spot.

"I'm sorry," Yunho says. "At the time, I didn't know how essential it was for Humans to be in contact with other humans, and for you to have someone other than me. I wanted you to have a good life, but it seems like I made it worse." You see the guilt ridden in his features.

"Everyday I wanted to tell you what I am. But, I couldn't. Humans shouldn't know about our existence. But since you are Yeosang's mate, and Wooyoung is my..." His eyes flick to Wooyoung, before he looks back at you. "We thought it would be best to tell you. I just wasn't sure when, until Wooyoung called me. I told him before this, that's why he's not that shocked to hear my words."

Yunho rubs his head, "And I am the one who insisted that Yeosang never see you. That you two should separate and never reunite. I thought it would be best, but as we've found out, I'm wrong."

Your head is spinning. Too much information thrown at you all at once. All of their eyes on you as you take it in, waiting for a response. But all you could do is nod and shake your head, that being painful enough. You know that Yeosang could smell and feel how you're doing, especially from the frustrated look in his eyes.

"This conversation is done," Yeosang says, turning to his brother. "y/n needs some time to think this over. Come back if she wants you to, but it's a lot of information for her to deal with. I know you wanted immediate action, but give her some time."

If you could jump over the counter and kiss him all over you would. But all you could do is give him a smile.

"Okay. Okay." Yunho looks at Wooyoung. "Would you like me to go home on my own?"

Wooyoung grips his keys in his hand, looking over at you. He presses his lips to your forehead, squeezing your hand slightly before turning to him.

"Let's go. We'll talk more about this on our way back. y/n?"

You look at Wooyoung, and you see the exhaustion in his eyes. It's hit him, not as dramatically and life changing as you, but still. He doesn't look like his happy go lucky self, bags under his eyes and hair wild on his head. You wish you could hug him and tell him it'll be okay, but you fear that if you open your mouth you'd just scream and cry. So you nod at him.

"I love you, you know that right?" He cocks his head. "And I'll kick his ass if you want me to." He glances over at Yeosang. "Call me or text me when you can."

He kisses your forehead once more before pushing past Yunho, who gives you one last sorrowful look before following after him. They close the door behind them, leaving you and Yeosang in silence.

Yeosang says nothing, the silence ringing in your ears. You feel the breakdown slowly build as you stand there, hands quickly rubbing against one another. The image of your mother is slowly disappearing, her wise words slowly morphing into Yunho's, his voice replacing hers. You never really thought about it, but your parents are a blur. You don't have pictures with them, your graduation pictures are selfies with Yun. Your whole life is a lie, no matter how you look at it.

Your breaths quicken, head throbbing. You hear Yeosang saying something, but your head spins, too overwhelmed to answer. You clutch the counter in front of you, eyes flicking back and forth.

“y/n!"

His voice rumbles around you and you look at him. He holds his face between your hands, rubbing your cheek lightly.

"Take slow breaths, in and out," His hand places yours on his chest, holding it there. "Follow the rise and fall of my chest, and do the same thing. In and out."

Your lips tremble as you try to follow his instructions. He feels your heart slowly go back to normal as he rubs your cheek. Your eyes are closed as he watches you for any signs of you beginning to faint. But you're listening attentively, despite your life crashing before you. You open them. He smiles at you, dropping his hands from your cheeks, the cool feeling gone. You're a bit better now, and you smile at him.

"Will it be okay?"

You ask with your eyes, willing him to understand. He holds out his arms, and you don't hesitate; falling into his embrace easily. His body surrounds you as you sob into his chest, his hands rubbing your back lightly. Your fingers dig into his back, a normal human would hiss at the grip but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. His lips are pressed into your hair as you shake in his arms. There's no words that could take the hurt and betrayal that you feel away, no matter how hard he thinks. He wants you to be okay, he wants to see the smile gracing your face again. So he says the only words he can.

"I'm here for you, y/n. I'm not leaving you. Not again."

-

You sit on the bench, staring at your laptop that rests on your lap. Yeosang insists that you get some fresh air, the air in your house too stale. You didn't want to; your home is so cozy and you can just open the windows. You used to love the outdoors, you spent most of your childhood outside. But after the revelation that Yunho dropped on you a few weeks ago, you didn't want it anymore. You know that all he wanted was for you to have a good life, but the way he manipulated you; you're not sure if you can forgive such an act. You close the computer, tossing it to the grass softly and stretching your body. You close your eyes as the sun beams down on you, the soft breeze comforting. You touch the necklace that rests on your neck again, wishing that Yeosang is here to enjoy the day with you.

After that night, he stayed true to his promise. You couldn't stay in your home, too familiar and too many traces of Yunho around you. So Yeosang brought you back to his, carefully taking care of you and letting you sleep on his bed alone. You missed the comfort of his cool body against your own, but he respected you, even when you whined for him to stay next to you. He didn't mind sleeping in the living room alone, although you noticed how he kept close to the fireplace.

As you stayed with him, you noticed a lot about him. He constantly wore layers, even in the summer sun. After prying a bit, he told you that the snake side of him craved warmth since he's cold-blooded. That's why his dragon wanted to stay close to you so often. That's why he always stuck close to you wherever you went. He craved warmth, soft rumbles in his chest each time you brushed against him or stood close enough.

You knew you were overstaying your welcome at his home, even though he insisted that you were not a stranger. That everything he owns is yours. Despite his intense flattery (you're sure you could heat up the whole country with how embarrassed you were), you decided to go back home.

The first step over the threshold threw you back to the terrible night. But you pushed past the negative feelings and cleaned. It took three full days, but you cleaned your whole home from top to bottom, a bit of a fresh start for you. Yeosang drops by often now, giving you the fresh vegetables he grew and not leaving for hours. He kept his promise, telling you that you're his friend, never bringing up the fact that you're both mates.

But you could feel it.

The stares he'd give you when you're freshly out of the shower, skin clean and covered in nothing but the scent of you. His eyes on you whenever you laughed at something he said, or when you snorted at a silly TV show. The tension between the two of you as you sat at your table and ate, feet only inches apart. Hands a brush away from one another. Napkins dabbing lips and licks dragging across skin. His hands would clench the table, eyes closed as he controlled his instincts, his emotions. You thought the need that you feel whenever he's with you was just a you thing, but after spending some time with each other, it's mutual. But you're scared. You know so much about him now, and you're scared that someday you'll lose him. That all of this is just a fantasy and you'll wake up alone. So you two do this dance every time you're with one another, pretending that you don't want one another when you do.

The breeze makes you open your eyes, and glance at your home. A few more hours until Wooyoung drops by.

You were never mad at him. He's the only friend you trust now; his honesty never swaying. You love Wooyoung, you do. After meeting Yeosang, and Wooyoung being in a relationship, your romantic feelings faded. You still consider him the most important person in your eyes. He's told you that he's still friends with Yunho, constantly nudging you to speak to your long time friend, or should you say parent?

You want to. Sit down and chat, tell him how hurt you still are but that you're ready to forgive. But you're not brave enough yet. Not ready to hear him speak with you. But you miss how his laughter filled the place, brightening up your day in the simplest of ways. You want to forgive him immediately, but a part of you is a bit pessimistic. Why should he be forgiven so easily? He broke your heart, shattering it. But he saved you from a life of sadness and struggle. He took you under his wing without a second thought, and raised you as his own. He was, is, your best friend. He’s been there for you whenever a boy or girl broke your heart, whenever you failed a test.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. The words that she sent you, a simple “I’m sorry we didn’t work out” stuck in your mind. A small knock on the door distracted you, and you turned, seeing your best friend, Yunho standing there. He held your favorite ice cream in his hands, along with your go-to movies. He tilted his head as he watched the tears fall down your cheeks, a small pout on his lips.

“Well, you can’t just spend all day crying about it,” He said simply. “Time to wash that sadness away with this!” He holds it up, rocking on his heels in excitement. “I have every installment of Harry Potter there is, and I even brought a little Dumbledore plush for you.” He threw the DVDs in front of the TV, holding up a small bearded man. He wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed for the first time in hours.

“You’re an idiot,” You grumbled, and he pulled your bean bags chairs in front of the small TV, dragging you as well. He kissed your forehead before plopping on the chairs, turning it on.

“But I’m your idiot.”

You take a deep breath, opening your eyes again. You hear a soft knock, and turn to your home, seeing Yeosang standing inside. He nods at you, a small smile on his lips. You lean up from your spot as he slides the door open, holding a small bag in his hand. Despite his average frame, he bumps his head into your low hanging flags, glaring at it before walking over to you.

“I apologize for not coming earlier, but I have to warn you-”

The door slides open again, and you look past him, seeing the bright red hair of his brother, San. His red eyes brighten as they look at yours, an excited wave sent your way.

After Yeosang and you mended your bond, the rest of the brothers (excluding Yunho) visited you frequently. You are quite surprised that San seems the most eager to learn more about you, stopping by your house several times a week. Yeosang discouraged him often, wrinkling his nose whenever he smelled his scent in your home, but he did like that you got along well. His brothers are his core, and it only pleased him that you and San were so well acquainted.

“y/n!” He screams, and you wince at his loud voice, rivaling even Wooyoung’s. He runs up to you, pulling you off the bench and into his arms. He always smells like a campfire, probably because his essence is entirely made from flames. He pulls back, ruffling your hair. “How is our favorite human doing?”

“Stop speaking to her like she’s an animal,” Yeosang mumbles, his voice immediately tired. “And I told you not to come out until I tell her.”

“I want to be here when you tell her.” San cocks his head, bottom lip purposely poking out as far as possible. “Yunho is leaving soon, we don’t have all day.”

Yeosang slaps his forehead. “I told you I would tell her-”

“Yunho is leaving?” You interrupt, body rigged. “But he’s lived here forever. Why would he go? Where is he going?”

Yeosang runs his fingers through his hair. “He doesn’t need to leave, but he feels that he’s bringing you and Wooyoung too much grief. He thought it would be best if he separated from this town, and left without saying so. I told him that it would only hurt you more if he left without a word, but he insists. I’m here to bring you to his home, and convince him to stay, because the rest of us couldn’t.”

You blink quickly. “Why… why? Who said I wanted him to stay?”

Yeosang raises a brow. He felt the lie before it even graced your lips, your heart beating faster and your hands fidgeting. San clears his throat. “We don’t have time for your silly human denials, Yunho is minutes from leaving.”

You push down the sour feeling that rises in your chest. He’s right, he’s right. You need to act like an adult and face your fear of seeing him again. You nod, and Yeosang wraps his arm around your waist. You yelp as he presses you against his chest.

“Hey, what are you-!”

“We have to fly there, we don’t have time to drive,” He looks down at you, your faces inches apart. “Do you trust me?”

“…Yes.”

“Then close your eyes.”

You shut them quickly.

Your body floats for a brief moment, heart jumping in your chest as you clutch your tightest onto Yeosang’s shirt. Your hair slaps against your face, cheeks sucked in and nose flaring. The burst of air is so quick, you don’t even get the chance to scream. Yeosang’s arms let you go, and you open your eyes.

You stand in front of Yunho’s apartment. Yeosang brushes your hair away from your face, eyes on yours. His blue flicks between yours, making sure you’re okay.

“Do you feel alright?” He asks, and you nod quickly.

San falls onto the ground seconds later, dirt flying everywhere. Yeosang leans back up, slight annoyance on his features. You love when they interact with one another; since Yeosang is older, he always scowls San whenever he gets the chance. San, despite his cold demeanor from before, is playful and full of life, eyes always sparkling at the newest discoveries.

You pat down your clothes, and run up to Yunho’s door. You don’t bother knocking, swinging it open. He always keeps it unlocked, explaining to you before that he’s not scared of someone robbing him. You always called him crazy, at least, until you realized why he isn’t scared.

Boxes are stacked up around his home. You push past them, looking around for him. Your eyes move to his figure sitting on the couch, head in his hands. He moves them away, looking back at you. You’re still not used to the endless black that looks at you, and he sighs, tugging on his roots.

“Yeosang brought you, didn’t he?” He asks softly. “I didn’t want you to know about this. You were fine without me being here since you found him. You don’t need me anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up for two minutes, Yun,” you move next to him, and he doesn’t flinch as you sit only a foot away. Your eyes scan him. His black eyes look at you, waiting for you to tell him how much you hate him, and that you’re happy he’s leaving.

But you pull his body into yours, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He feels the tears fall from your eyes, but he doesn’t dare hug you back. He’s afraid that you’ll only push him away. You hold him for a few more moments, before pulling back, wiping your soggy lids.

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for so long, how to tell you how much I hated-” his body stiffened at that word- “that you pretended for so long. That you lied to me my whole life, and it took for Yeosang to appear for you to say that everything was a lie. But you know, I didn’t stop thinking about how much you helped me when I was younger.”

You watch as his face stares at yours. Yunho that’s your best friend, your brother, and your family.

“You taught me how to brush on my own. You taught me how to deal with heartbreak in the best and worst ways, you mourned with me when one of my friends passed in college. You taught me that kissing a boy doesn’t mean you’re pregnant, and you taught me right from wrong. God, I hated my parents at some points, and you even came in as my best friend and helped me see that sometimes, parents make mistakes and that no one is perfect. And it was all you. You, you made me into the person that I am today, and I can’t hate you for that.”

His hand trembles when you place yours on the top, squeezing his fingers.

“I cried for so many days when I found out. I cursed at you so much that I didn’t realize that you saved me. You took me out of that house when I was abandoned by the people who created me. You could have left me to die, but you didn’t. Yunho, you saved my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.”

You reach up, rubbing the tears that fall from his cheeks. “I don’t care about you being a Dragon, I don’t care that your eyes are black or that your laugh makes me want to scream sometimes.”

He cracks a grin, and your heart warms.

“I just don’t want you to leave thinking that I haven’t forgiven you when I already did. All you wanted was to protect me from danger, and I can’t blame you for that. Like you told me, everyone makes mistakes. We just have to accept, move on and grow.”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. The same thing that your parents, no, he did when you were a child. “You say that I saved you, but you saved me.” He says softly. “And I will never regret taking care of you. No matter how much you screamed and cried as I changed your diaper, no matter how much I struggled with teaching you the Human way of things. No matter how much I wanted to give up, seeing your face the next day only brought me joy, and I’ll never regret that, Pumpkin.”

You giggle softly at the nickname, “Thank you, Mr. Adult.”

“Well, I guess I can’t leave my kid behind, huh?” He teases, pulling back. You groan, throwing yourself back onto the couch.

“No Dad jokes Yun, I swear to god-”

“Ain’t no God here but me, bay-bee,” He snorts, and you only cover your face with a pillow, a loud scream drowning out his jokes for just a moment.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” You say. “You literally talk like ‘dad’. The jokes, the mannerisms, I can’t believe I didn’t think about it twice.”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “Why would anyone think that your best friend and your parents are the same person?”

Before you can comment, San bursts through the door, holding a couple of bottles of champagne. Yeosang and Wooyoung drag behind him, both annoyed. You can only giggle at his antics, and he wiggles his brows, yelling about how he loves Human alcohol.

Wooyoung comes next to you, squeezing your shoulder. “Did you make up? Because he’s been whining about you for about a month and I could only take so much.”

“But I thought you didn’t know he was leaving-” You look at Yeosang, and he whistles, waltzing into the kitchen. You glare as he goes, knowing you’re going to have a talk with him later.

-

You rub your eyes, yawning softly as you stand in the kitchen. Yeosang is supposed to be gone for the next few days, helping a small village somewhere continents away to replenish their water supply. He told you countless times that he can do it from the coziness of his home, but you insisted that he actually leave his cabin, and your immediate vicinity for once to explore the outside world. That being said, you walk around in one of his shirts he’s left behind and your underwear, comfortably hidden underneath the fabric. You’ve been a bit cautious around him recently, realizing that you both feel the same attraction for one another. But you know how his dragon gets whenever it gets a whiff of your scent, so you stay layered whenever he’s near.

He’s been a bit strange lately, walking around you in circles every once in a while, eyes on yours as he waits for you to say something. But you immediately called him weird and pushed him away, a sigh falling from his lips as he ignored you for the rest of that day. He always sniffed you from your side as well, rubbing his arm against you for a moment before continuing on in a conversation. You weren’t exactly sure what he would be doing, and you’re a bit anxious to ask. Yeosang is an open book, but you can tell when some things bother him, how he shuts down. Especially at the mention of his Mother, who he never speaks about, and if he does, very vaguely.

You sip your coffee, sitting on the edge of your kitchen stool and flicking through the channels on the TV that rests on your counter. Gordon Ramsay pops up on your screen, and you turn it up, giggling at how he ridicules someone for not knowing how to boil an egg. You hear the creak of your door, and glance over, expecting to see Wooyoung or Yunho.

But Yeosang walks around the corner, eyes a bit tired. He looks at you, a small smile on his lips. You jump up, running over to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs as you wrap them around his neck, his face tucked into yours. He breathes in deeply, missing how you smell. His body grows stiff as you pull away, hopping over to the microwave to heat up your coffee.

You walk over to the stove, pouting at the little amount of apples you have left crisping. “Sorry Yeo, I didn’t think you’d show up until the middle of the week. Do you want some bananas? I have a couple left-”

Your eyes flick to him. The sparkly eyes that you’re used to seeing are dark, the deepest blue you’ve ever seen them. His eyes are focused on your legs, trailing up and ending where his shirt began. You tremble at his gaze and he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. His hand grabs the counter next to him, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself together.

“Yeo, are you alright?”

His pupils are blown once they look back at you, trembling each time you take a soft step towards him.

“Don’t move, y/n. Please.” He asks desperately. “Why are you wearing that? Why do you smell different?”

You feel the chill of his skin as you stand only a few feet away from him. You think back to the first time he looked like this, eyes focused on yours. This time, there’s nothing separating the two of you; only his pure resilience and your poor judgment. You think back to what you could have done to make him this way, and your heart drops. You haven’t taken your birth control in a while. Wooyoung told you that he’ll drop it off, but he never did, and it slipped your mind. His chest rises and falls quickly as he waits for you to say something.

“I… I forgot to take my birth control,” You say, and his chest rumbles at your words. You feel your core clench, and he whines, turning away.

“I can’t, I can’t do this,” he mumbles. “y/n, I need you to stand right there and don’t move, or else I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” You ask softly, pulling down your shirt. He only flicks his head back quickly.

“I’ll fuck you into that counter,” he says simply. You know that he’s trying his best to remain in control, but you see the strain on his neck, the white of his knuckles as he keeps himself steady. “Do you want me to do that, y/n?”

His voice flips, hands slowly moving off of the marble. His eyes are blazed as he keeps them trained on you, flicking to whenever you take a step back or move your arm.

“Answer me.”

You try to hear through the deep tone of his voice but your head is throbbing. He has no idea how much you’ve wanted this, wanted him to claim you as his mate. You thought his odd behaviors were only reasons to push you away, his hands rarely gracing your skin.

He stalks toward you, hands dragging against the counter as he watches you play with him, avoiding his steps and doing the opposite of his movements.“I have but so much patience, y/n.”

“I want you to fuck me,” You whisper, and he visibly trembles at your words, quickly walking around the counter. You know he loves the game, so you run quickly into the living room.

Yeosang follows close behind with ease, twirling you around and pressing your chest against his. You feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his breaths frantic with need.

“y/n, if we start, there’s no going back,” You hear the sweet voice of Yeosang speak through the lust cloud of the dragon. “Mating is a lifelong commitment. It can be treated with uneasiness. Once you say yes,” his hands brushes against your cheek. “I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

You never thought that you’d like him, let alone love him. His hard exterior is the toughest you’ve had to break through, but inside is the man that you love. The dragon that you love.You reach up, running your hands along his cheek. He leans into your warmth against his cool skin, waiting for your answer with thin patience. You can feel his growing arousal resting against your stomach as you whisper the words he wants to hear.

“I love you, Yeo. I want this, I want you.”

You pull away and he lets you, watching you as you fall back onto the pull out couch, the bed already made. The switch is almost immediate. Soft, smiling Yeo is gone.

He leans over you, pressing his lips to yours immediately. He bites your lower lip, begging to enter you. You don’t protest, letting his tongue explore you. He doesn’t let up, as if he’s searching for something within you. He sucks on your tongue for a moment before moving away.

He grabs your legs, spreading you wide. He presses himself against you, and you ground as he licks a strip up the cloth underwear, before ripping it off easily. He doesn’t waste time; pressing his face into your wet cunt as you tremble at his touch. Three fingers push into you immediately with little prep, and you yelp.

His eyes flick to yours in concern, but seeing you nod, he pushes in and out quickly. His plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance. The sounds of your moans echo around the room as he eagerly growls into you, fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. As if he’s done this dozens of times. He grinds himself into the couch, ears perking up as you encourage him to go faster with his strokes. You arch your back as you feel him slip four fingers into you, five, your high slowly reaching its peak. You almost fall over, until Yeosang pulls out quickly. He pulls off his shirt, your eyes scanning over his body.

His skin is covered with what looks like scales, brightly colored blues tracing his chest. He always wears long sleeves, so you never noticed how from elbow up, his arm is decorated with tattoos, some in writings you can’t quite understand. He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it; ripping off his pants.

His cock springs out onto his belly, and you groan at the size, until you see something else underneath. Another cock, the equal size, sits underneath the first, light blue, dripping with precum. His eyes scan yours, waiting for you to reject him and push him away.

“You’re beautiful,” You say, smiling up at him.

His face reflects his smile as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. His cocks twitch against your cunt and he groans, licking the curve between your shoulder and neck lightly.

“This isn’t like Humans,” He says, rocking his cocks between your folds slowly. You try your best to concentrate on his voice, feeling the ridges of him brush lightly against your clit. “When I’m about to cum, I’ll bite your neck, y/n. I won’t let go until I’m finished.” He curses, looking between your bodies to see his cocks rub slowly. “I need to know you’re okay with me putting both of them in you. I can put in one if you want, we can stop if you want to-”

“Just do it, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you, I want you to fuck me until I can’t speak, mark my neck and make me yours-”

He presses his tips into you, and you tremble, your first orgasm immediately hitting you, your cunt tightening against him as you moan. He lets you come down from your high, before continuing his slow descent into you. He presses his lips against yours, trying his best to distract you from the stretch your pussy is getting. He tightens his eyes, shoving himself into you in one even stroke.

Your cunt is so tight against his cocks, that he can’t even move for a moment, you hold on him too tight. His balls rest against the outside of your lips, and you’re amazed at how much can fit inside your, the feeling of him completely taking over all of your senses. You know he wants to go as slow as he can, but he can only control himself for so long.

“Ease up, y/n,” He mumbles softly, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around him, feeling the smoothness of his scales underneath your fingertips. You let go for a moment and he lets out a breath he’s holding, slowly dragging his cock out of you. His eyes look back down, seeing your arousal coating his two cocks.

Your hands reach down, pushing him against you again. He chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Can’t wait to fuck you like a real dragon would.”

Before you could respond, he sinks back into you quickly. Your soft moans fall off your lips as he moves in and out of you, the rolling of his hips hitting yours with ease. He runs his tongue along your sweaty neck, hips not stuttering once. You can feel how much he’s pacing himself, the clench of his brows and the strained veins in his neck.

“Go faster,” You encourage, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to go faster, I can hurt you.”

“Yeosang if you don’t fuck me, we’re not doing this again.” It’s a lie. It’s an utter, total lie, but he believes it.

He leans up, grabbing both of your legs and placing them on his shoulders. His pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with your flesh, the squelching sounds echoing in your living room. Yeosang couldn’t care less about how loud he’s being, groaning as he sees you in front of him, your top half still covered and your bottom filled with him.

“All of this, just for me. No one can ever have you, see you like this,” He whispers. “Look at your stomach, I can see my cocks moving in and out of you.” He grunts, strokes relentless. “You’ll look so beautiful filled with my cum, smelling only like me.”

“Yeo,” You struggle through your gasps, and he smirks as drool falls down your cheeks, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “P-Please don’t stop. Fill me up baby.”

His snarl makes your body tremble. He presses his lips to your leg, pace quickening. You hear the strain of your couch under this much movement, hoping that it doesn’t break.

His muscles strain, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, cocks easily moving in and out of you. The slap of his skin against yours only fills your mind, his moans music to your ears. You feel how hard his tips hit the inside of you, watch as your belly moves in and out as his cocks swell inside of you. If you weren’t so filled with the thought of him, you’d be terrified that he’d rip you apart with how fast he’s going.

He keeps up the merciless pace with ease, mouth open as he pants, eyes not leaving yours. The slapping of his balls against your lips are music to your ears, and you feel the rise of your arousal coming once again. It’s much quicker this time. He seems to sense it without your words, dropping your legs and pressing himself into you.

“Cum for me,” He says. He grips your hips as he slams into you, his pumping pace making you see stars. His teeth brush against your throat, and you scream as you reach your high. “I love you.”

He sinks his teeth into you, his hips sputtering as he claims you as his. You scream through the pain and the pleasure of him inside you. Your climax hits you so hard, legs wrapping around him as he pumps into you. His hips sputter, his balls slapping against you a few more times until he hits you hard once more. You feel the warmth of his cum hit your walls, filling you up. His cold body wraps around you as he runs his tongue along the wound, slowly closing it up.

Only your quick breaths fill the room as Yeosang pulls you on top of him, your sweaty bodies pressed against one another. He doesn’t slip out, letting his cocks rest inside you as his fingers trace your back.

“Two cocks? Scales?” You say into the silence, and he laughs, pressing his lips against your forehead. “You could have warned me about that, you know.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He says softly. “I didn’t expect for this to happen right when I got home.”

“Home?” You say, lifting your head and looking at him. You see the deep blush coat his cheeks, the cheeks that you love. You laugh, pressing your lips against his chest. “You’re my home.”

He chuckles slowly.“And you’re mine.”

[captainsophiestark]

Not A Doctor

Bones McCoy x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Star Trek

Summary: Bones' SO hurts themselves on an away mission and has to stitch themselves up as well as they can to buy time for a med evac to the Enterprise

Word Count: 1,533

Category: Fluff, Humor, a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Shit," I hissed, pressing a hand to my side as I slid down the wall. When I finally got up the courage to pull my hand back and look, it came away with a lot more blood than I'd hoped to find. I'd fallen pretty far and managed to avoid any broken bones based on my pain levels, but the wound in my side was gaping and looked concerningly serious.

I could practically hear the extended bridge crew chorusing "I told you so" from here.

As if on cue, my communicator beeped. I grimaced, but managed to take it out of my bag and open it to respond.

"What's up?" I groaned.

"Y/N, where are you?" came the voice of Jim Kirk, one of my best friends and the captain of the Enterprise. "Scotty's reporting he can only find two targets to beam up."

Dammit. That figured.

"I'm... not totally sure. I was trying to follow the signature on my tricorder to that plant I've been looking for when the ground just gave way under me. I'm not sure how far I fell, but I hit something pretty hard on the way down and I've got... quite the gash in my side."

Silence on the other end for a few moments, then:

"Hang tight. We're coming to find you."

The communicator hung up with a click, and I sighed, ignoring the flare of pain in my side. I had faith in Jim's determination and ability to find me, especially with Spock here helping him, but I still needed to do something if I wanted to be alive when they found me.

Thankfully, I'd watched my boyfriend, Doctor Leonard McCoy, stich people up often enough that I felt fairly confident I could do a passable job on myself. I dug some sewing supplies out of my bag that I hadn't removed from my last away mission misadventure, and pulled the hem of my shirt up to get a better look at the wound.

I grimaced, gritting my teeth and trying to prepare for this. I'd been so excited to join Kirk and Spock on this away mission. This planet was supposed to have one of the rarest plants in the galaxy, and I'd been looking forward to finding it since I'd first heard we'd be coming here. And now, I was at the bottom of this pit or cave or whatever, slowly bleeding out, without even a picture of the plant to show for it.

Ugh.

I tried to focus on my breathing as I threaded a needle and put it to my skin. I knew the wound needed to be disinfected before I totally closed it, but I didn't have anything on me to do that with, and I knew Bones would be able to take care of it for me if I could manage to get back to him.

I took a few deep breaths to steel myself, then stuck the needle through. I swore loudly and kept up a steady stream of expletives as I sewed up the wound. I pulled it closed as tightly as I dared, then held my jacket to my waist to try to staunch the remainder of the bleeding.

I sighed, long and hard, then leaned my head back against the wall of whatever hole I'd fallen into. I had no idea how long those stitches had taken me, but it certainly hadn't been quick. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too much longer before I heard Jim and Spock stumbling down some passage towards me.

I focused on deep breaths as the pain continued to throb in my side, completely zoning out to the time and environment around me. Finally, I heard some shuffling movement from a slightly more gradual incline up ahead of me. The voices of my friends echoed out, curious and searching.

"Y/N!"

"I'm here!" I called back, my voice a little weaker than normal. I cleared my throat, then tried again. "Here!"

A moment later, my friends came into view. Jim grinned at me as Spock started scanning the space, probably trying to decide on the best way to get me out of here.

"How're you holding up?" asked Jim. I forced a smile.

"Living the dream."

He scoffed, then moved to crouch beside me and put one of my arms over his shoulder.

"Spock! Come help me."

"We'll need to get around the corner and most of the way back up the incline we came down to reach a spot where Mr. Scott can register us," said Spock as he joined us. "There seems to be some property of this rock that's prohibiting the transporter signal from reaching us."

"Great," I huffed, grimacing as my friends pulled me to my feet. Even resting most of my weight on them, I was still seeing spots. "This is gonna be great."

Between the three of us, somehow, we managed to get back into transporter range. I almost lost consciousness at one point, but we'd paused, and I'd managed to pull myself back from the brink. When the Enterprise's transporter room finally materialized before me, the relief was palpable, not least of all because Bones was waiting for me.

"Y/N," he said, jumping to attention and rushing onto the pad to replace Jim at my side. With Spock's help, we started moving immediately for the Med Bay. "What happened?"

"I was following the signature of the plant I was looking for on my tricorder. Then all of a sudden, the ground gave way underneath me. It wasn't a straight drop, I don't think, but I fell a pretty long way, bouncing off the rock slide and the walls of the cave I fell into on the way down. I'm bruised, but I don't think it's anything bad besides the cut on my stomach."

Bones nodded. "We'll get you to Med Bay and make sure."

Luckily, my boyfriend was very good at staying calm and focused in a crisis for his patients. He was completely in the zone as he and Spock helped me into a bed once we reached Med Bay, and then Bones started checking my vitals and assessing my injuries. I watched him carefully for any break in his usual bedside manner to tell me if I needed to be worried about something, but none came.

Hopefully that was a good sign, and not just because he was an incredible doctor.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to me, Bones returned from his testing and reappeared by  my bedside. His hands were on his hips, but he seemed calmer, and definitely out of intense doctor mode.

"Alright, the good news is you'll be just fine. But I'm still gonna need to disinfect the wound and stitch you up," he said. I gave him the best smile I could muster.

"Sounds like a plan."

He sighed, then gently lifted my shirt high enough to give him access to the gash in my side. The light touch of his fingertips sent goosebumps along my skin, but I did my best to ignore them, especially as Bones frowned.

"What the hell did you do to yourself?" he asked, not looking away from his work on my side.

"Uh... I slammed into a rock. We covered this already, remember?"

"No, I didn't mean your injury." Bones paused and looked up at me, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. "I meant these stitches. Yikes."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, making Bones chuckle as he got back to work.

"Okay, whatever. I'm a biologist, not a doctor, dammit. I think I did a pretty good job, considering the circumstances."

"Mm, I guess so. Barely."

"Hey!" I laughed, hitting him lightly in the shoulder. "You better knock it off or I'm gonna start practicing my stitches on you."

Bones snorted, but I could see the smile on his face as he continued working. Thanks to the medical facilities of the Enterprise, it barely hurt as he undid my messy job and redid it with a much better one of his own.

"So... what are you doing after this?" I asked after a few long moments of letting him work in peace. He paused to look up at me again, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't tell me you're hitting on your own boyfriend after only the low-level painkillers I gave you?"

"I can and will hit on my own boyfriend whenever I want, no painkillers required. But I was mostly asking if you had other patients to deal with after me, or if you'd be free to come cuddle on the couch and eat junk food with me. I think it'd really help speed up my recovery process."

Bones' mouth quirked into a smile again as he put the finishing touches on my stitches.

"Well if it's for the wellness of a patient... I think Nurse Chapel might be willing to take over from me for the rest of the day."

"Thank goodness for Christine."

Bones and I shared a smile, then he returned to his work and I watched him contentedly. Obviously, life and death situations on away missions were never ideal—but I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about how this one had played out, even if I hadn't managed to get my plant in the end.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Interrupted Declaration of Love

@wolfstarmicrofic May 24, word count 399

“You should tell him,” Lily urged him. “What’s the worst that could happen?” She said as she sipped her iced coffee. Remus dropped his head into his hands. 

“He could kick me out of the house,” Remus lived with Sirius in the house Sirius had inherited from his uncle. Lily tutted at him. 

“Sirius would never kick you out, and you know it.” Lily poked him with her sandalled toe. “Remus, if you pine any harder you’ll turn into a tree.” Remus snorted and gulped his hot chocolate. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Remus gave in.

“Yay,” Lily beamed at him. “Ring me after, okay.” He rolled his eyes at her. 

“Weirdo,” He teased, but tensed at the glare she gave him. “Fine, I’ll ring you after.” They finished their drinks and parted ways. 

Remus’s palms were sweating when he arrived home and reached for the door. He took a shuddering breath and steeled himself. It was now or never. 

Sirius was sitting on the sofa facing away from Remus when he walked in. He took another deep breath and started talking. 

“Sirius, I have something to say, and I need for you to not say anything until I’m finished.” He swallowed. Sirius remained as he had been, facing away from Remus and quiet. “I’ve kept this from you for years, but I can’t go on like this, live with you anymore without you knowing the truth.” He paused again, taking another deep breath and closing his eyes before he continued. “Sirius, I lov—” 

“Bloody hell, Remus! You scared me!” Sirius yelped. He’d turned his head to the side to grab something off the sofa next to him and spotted Remus standing there. 

Remus’s eyes snapped open, and he watched in horror as Sirius reached beneath his curls and plucked the tiny bluetooth earphones from his ears. “Were you saying something? Sorry I couldn’t hear you.” He said, a kind smile spreading across his face. Remus lost his nerve and shook his head. No.

“Just saying I’m back, that's all.”

“Shall we get a takeaway, tonight?” Sirius asked him, picking up his phone and turning the video off that he’d been watching.

“Yeah, okay.” Remus's returning smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m gonna go shower.” He turned away from Sirius and headed upstairs. He pulled out his phone once he closed his bedroom door. “Lily... It didn’t go well.”

Part 2

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Shadows of Fluttering Leaves

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist             Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 

warnings: depressed reader, grief, victim blaming, implied history of sexual assault/harassment, bad parenting, not super healthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I am so sorry I've updated everything sporadically this year, y'all. I've been working really hard to stockpile updates so I'll be able to post at least biweekly for the rest of the year (if everything goes to plan!) As always, please comment/reblog to leave feedback. And a giant thank you to @gracethyomen for helping me plan this arc and make their fight more cruel. She is the queen of angst, go follow her.

w/c: 4.8k

You didn’t recall much from the past three days, but that was because there wasn’t anything to recall. After your conversation–if it could even be called that–with Frank, it was as if your soul had unstitched itself from your body. You went through your days as an emotionless husk. Your creative spark extinguished, your joy unreachable.

The walls in your building were thin enough that you could hear him moving around. Going to work and returning home to Max as if you'd never existed. Perfectly fine without you. Every heavy footfall that penetrated the rotting drywall brought a fresh sheen of tears to your eyes. 

The burly marine had become such a welcomed part of your life, losing him was like losing a limb. His absence felt like a bad dream. If you focused hard enough, you could still feel his calloused hands, smell the cheap soap and spicy clove aftershave he used. But a simple exhale would wash the scent away, and you were alone again–tired, anguished, and unloved.

You drifted through the day, unsure what to do with yourself. You couldn’t bring yourself to go into work, or even communicate with Leo and Stacy for more than a brief text to prove you were still alive.

While this evening hadn’t been much different, the sight of your mom’s name flashing across the top of your phone screen as it buzzed had caused enough of an adrenaline rush to force you to chat with someone. Your throat felt sore after talking for the first time in nearly 72 hours, your vocal chords still recovering from their sudden overuse. Shuddering as you willed the memory of the call to fade, you felt the tell tale prick in the corners of your eyes.

Staring down at the damp concrete, you blinked frantically in an attempt to keep the endless tears at bay. The tilt of your head caused raindrops to drip off of your hood, rolling down your forehead. Around you, the slam of water against pavement and steel drowned out the thud of your determined footsteps. Blowing out a breath you slipped an unfeeling mask onto your face as you continued your walk to the bakery.

It wasn’t more than a few blocks from your apartment to the Rainy Day, but the beams of street lights would draw attention to your glassy eyes, and you didn’t need to highlight your fragility for any creeps that might be lurking at this hour. You'd had more than enough unwanted male attention for the week. Once you were safely behind the locked doors, you could look as broken down as you needed to.

Though you were exhausted, your confusion-and-betrayal-addled brain was still unable to rest and your hands itched to do something. Wallowing in your bed wouldn’t quell the uneasiness that speaking with your mom had ignited mere hours ago. But cooking might. At least, you hoped that was the case.

A crackle of lightning illuminated the bakery as you approached; the strike of light refracting through the windows made the place look rather sinister, draping it in oddly shaped shadows. Slipping the keys from your pocket, you tried not to cringe at the cold rain as it splattered against your exposed hand. Thunder rolled overhead as you waggled the key in the lock, finally getting the damn thing to budge enough for the door to shove open.

Stepping inside, you bolted the door behind you, using your phone flashlight to maneuver through the stacked tables and chairs as you moved to the kitchen. Before getting to work, you stripped out of your semi-drenched top and slipped into a clean t-shirt adorned with the logo of the cafe. Flicking on the overhead lights, you threw a hand up to shield your sensitive eyes as they strobed briefly before steadying into their normal bright rays. Taking a place by your preferred station, you took a moment to reflect on the tasks you had cut out for you.

Though Leo was more than capable of replicating your work if you detailed the recipes, they were happy to let you be the creative lead in your shared kitchen. As they’d mentioned multiple times over text the past few days, your absence from the space meant less variation in pastries for the bakery, and more for Leo to do. If you weren’t so emotionally depleted, you would have felt more guilty about abandoning them so suddenly.

Apparently, the emotional turmoil that talking to your mother always stirred was good for something. It had gotten you here, at least. Coating your station in a thin layer of flour, you ran through the motions of a basic croissant recipe.

You weren't quite feeling up to experimenting yet, but croissants you could do.

Soon enough, the smell of salted butter and yeast engulfed the room and your fatigued mind began to wander. Despite your best efforts to forget the comment, your mother's voice echoed in your ears.

“Really, sweetheart, what did you expect?”

The condescension in her tone clung to you like the barbs of an untrimmed rose. Your brain feebly tried to reassure you that she had no idea what she was talking about. To remind you that she didn't even know his name, that you'd told her—at most—three sentences about the whole situation.

But the majority of your brain was still reeling from the abrupt collapse of your relationship with Frank. And it was far too weak to not spiral at the implication of your mom's question.

Because, while she wasn't fully aware of who Frank was and what he meant to you, she was intimately informed of your history with men–hence her thoughtless words this evening.

Your dating history was...pitiful, to say the least. You tended to draw attention from the wrong men. Bosses, teachers, even your own relatives.

It had been your reality for as long as you could remember. As a child, whenever you'd come to your mother with another sob story about attention that you hadn't meant to attract, the blame was always placed squarely on your shoulders. Your outfits were too provocative, your actions too enticing. It didn't matter that they were the ones misunderstanding your kindness as an open invitation. It was still your fault.

Expecting her to sympathize with you when you told her you'd been grabbed by a stranger as you left the construction site was foolish. But it still hurt to know that she didn't.

What hurt more was the little voice in the back of your head that agreed with her. Knowing damn well that you'd chosen that outfit to fetch the gaze of a specific man. That the low cut neckline was meant to be provocative. That it was your fault that you'd been humiliated. That your own desperation had led to the continued phantom sensation of a large hand gripping your arm against your will. 

“If you dangle bait long enough, something will bite.” She reminded you. It wasn't the ocean's fault that you'd been hoping for a specific fish.

“But I didn't want them.” You'd lamented to her. You were tired of being a plaything, a quick fuck. You wanted something more, something real. And it had turned to ash in your delicate grasp before you could so much as appreciate it.

She wasn't sympathetic. Chastising you for forgetting your place, for getting attached, for seeking love in places it didn't exist.

“Love is harder to come by when you're, well...you know.”

You slammed the ball of elastic dough onto the bench, kneading it aggressively as tears poured down your face. Your stomach twisted as it heaved with sobs, the sentiment from your mother sounding eerily similar to the curt observation that Frank had hurled at you.

You ain't my wife.

He was right. You weren't his wife. His wife was beautiful, and caring, and patient. She'd loved him, had children with him, made a home for him.

Think I'm your little boyfriend or somethin'?

Biting your lip to stifle a sob, the feeling of foolishness crested in your chest again. It was humiliating to be called out like that,  especially when your naive little heart had been convinced he felt the same way.

I never wanted that.

Those words still hit you like a sock to the gut. He never wanted a relationship. He never wanted you.  Your stupid feelings were clearly unrequited, but how were you supposed to know that?

Was your childhood so deprived of love that simple acts of kindness had your heart doing backflips? Were his pet names and compliments just his gentlemanly nature because he was afraid to offend you?

This was a mistake.

His sweet remarks, calling you beautiful, the constant teasing—the relationship you once had with Frank began to play in your head; the muted colors of the picture doing nothing to make your chest ache less when his face sprang to mind. Your brain continued its depressing montage: Frank smiling at you, his gruff voice lifting around the word “sunshine”, his genuine interest in your work, his daily visits to the cafe, the way he leaned into every touch you offered him. All meaningless. Just another regret.

Exhaling forcefully, you flapped your hands in an attempt to stop their trembling. If the fragile dough ripped between your fingers, it would ignite a full meltdown. Clenching the muscles in your hands, you relaxed them as you forced every thought from your head, focusing on the pliant mass beneath your rolling pin as you mashed it into a lopsided rectangle. Carefully lifting the edges of the shape, you tossed it onto the sheet pan you'd prepared as tenderly as you could.  Using your fingertips to stretch it into a more appealing shape, you nodded in satisfaction, shoving the tray onto a cart and picking up your rolling pin again.

Each extension of your forearms, pressing the wooden cylinder into the raw pastry, condensing and lengthening the blob with small, stiff movements. Your elbows creaked with every stretch of the elastic dough, the swing of your arms feeling almost foreign despite being a common practice in the kitchen. A 72-hour break was too long, apparently. Any other day, you'd dance through this recipe effortlessly; Today though, every step felt choppy and hesitant, as if your brain expected you to fail again and again.

You hadn't felt this hopeless in a kitchen since the last few weeks of your atrocious entrepreneurial experience years ago. Yet another example of you being too trusting, too optimistic.

Your mouth flooded with the metallic tang of blood as your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek, halting the choking despair that threatened to drag you down to the linoleum floor. You wanted to give in; your brain was still a ball of exhausted mush incapable of handling your day-to-day tasks.

Sloppily prepping a few more trays for their initial rise, you shoved the croissant dough onto the proofing cart and out of sight. The smell of yeast usually made you happy, but the biting edge of the scent was turning your stomach. It was becoming increasingly clear that you'd thrown yourself into your work without the stability to handle the sensory input of the bakery. Your head was pulsing because of the fluorescent lights, the whir of the electric mixer rattling your ear drums. Once the sticks of butter you'd added to the stainless steel bowl of the machine were smooth, you shoved the lever to shut it off—letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

Slapping heaping scoops of the creamed butter into a half-sheet pan, you set the pan in the fridge to solidify and shuffled blearily into the break room, collapsing onto the worn leather couch.

“You are such an asshole.”

Gritting your teeth as the words ripped you from an uneasy sleep, you peeled one eye open reluctantly. Two shadowy figures swayed in your field of vision, neither looking particularly happy with you.

The taller figure marched towards you. ”Three days? THREE DAYS? No calls, only a single fucking text,“ The annoyed voice grew closer, making you curl in on yourself.

”'M sorry.“ You mumbled, tears springing to your eyes.

”You better have a better apology than that. They were worried sick.“ A blurry image of Stacy manifested against the doorway to the breakroom, her arms crossed. Standing in front of your shoulders, hands firmly attached to their hips, was Leo.

”We were worried sick,“ Leo corrected, throwing Stacy a look.

Not denying the allegation, Stacy's cheeks dusted pink.

Crouching in front of you, Leo gave you a once over. Their furious expression quickly morphing into one of concern. “Did you sleep here?”

“Didn't mean to, the kitchen was just,” You gave a limp shrug, avoiding their piercing gaze. “Too much.”

“How long have you been here?” Stacy asked, striding over to drape her legs across the arm of the couch.

“Since midnight-ish.” You muttered, shame pitching your voice lower.

“Babes,“ Leo sighed, running a palm over your exposed arm as you tried to shrink into the couch cushions. ”What happened? Was it your mom?“

You should your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “Pete.”

“Pete?” Stacy raised an eyebrow, looking at Leo with wide eyes.

“What did he do, hun?” Leo plopped into a cross-legged position, leaning against the couch with an expectant look.

“Did you break up?” Stacy's voice was uncharacteristically soft, but the words were still teasing.

You burst into tears.

“Stace!” Leo scolded, climbing onto the couch and hefting your torso up so that you could lay in their lap as you bawled.

“What? It seemed impossible!!” Stacy said, mortified. She absorbed Leo's vacated spot, hands hovering apprehensively in front of you. “Shit. Please don't cry.”

“It's a bit late for that.” Leo huffed, cradling your cheek with one hand. “What did that bastard do to you?”

Gulping in air, you cowered against Leo's thigh. Your friends sat quietly, patiently awaiting your story. With a stuttering inhale, you wiped the newest round of tears from your face and pushed yourself into a seated position—gratefully leaning into the arm Leo threw around your shoulders. Looking up at them wide-eyed, you waited for their encouraging nod before speaking.

“Um..” Your voice was hoarse, words shaky. “So three days ago, I tried to bring him lunch...”

As if your consciousness was sparing you from the depressing events, the words tumbled from your lips instinctively, thoughtlessly. The story pouring directly from your torn heart, accompanied by a few stray tears.

Throughout your ramble, your friends remained silent–sandwiching your body between them. Leo's sturdy frame was a comforting weight to your left. Stacy had migrated to your other side, tentatively resting a manicured hand on your shoulder. They were both eerily still as you caught them up on the implosion of your relationship with your neighbor.

Eventually, you sighed, your body sagging with exhaustion. Briefly lifting your hands, you gestured to the small, bare break room you'd passed out in. “And then you found me in here, and that's it I guess.”

Your mouth snapped shut, your eyes flinging the final few droplets of saline off of your lashes as you blinked at your lap. There was a beat of silence. Two. Three.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Is he fucking serious?“ Stacy bit out, retracting her hand to cross her arms. Her brows were raised, jaw clenched as she looked at Leo.

”He told you that you were a mistake?“ Leo squawked, clearly fuming.

“I mean, that's not—” You began to reason, words dissolving on your tongue as Leo grabbed your hand with a glare.

“Absolutely not. Do not start that bullshit.”

Frowning, you averted your eyes. ”I'm not doing anything.“

“Princess, we love you, but don't pretend you're not blaming yourself.“ Stacy scoffed, standing from the couch and tugging at the roots of her hair.

“And defending him while you're at it.” Leo gently prodded your side with a knuckle, giving you an all-too-knowing glance. At your resulting pout, they sighed. “I know that hearing your mom blame you again and again is hard to unlearn, but she's wrong. So is Pete and all the other men who have done this to you. You deserve better.”

“Seconded.” Stacy nodded firmly, pointing a finger at you. “The next time I see him, I swear on my grandmother—”

The petite brunette was pacing, fists clenched in her fury. Leo looked equally angry, though they were much less obvious about it. Smirking at Stacy's empty threat, they finished it for her. ”We'll beat him senseless with a baseball bat.“

Giggling, you leaned into the hug Leo offered, exhaling into their shoulder. ”I appreciate you both, but I'd rather just move past it.“

”Deal.“ Leo kissed the top of your head, holding out a hand to help you stand from the couch.

”Speak for yourself, I am not willing to let this slide.“ Stacy called with a huff, stalking out to the counter to begin prepping for the morning rush.

”Should I be worried?“ You bit your bottom lip, eyes following her out of the break room.

”Nah, you know her. It'll pass, this is just how she shows her love.“ Leo reassured you, striding into the kitchen at the ambling pace you set. ”We would do anything for you, you know.“

Smiling bashfully, you nodded. “I appreciate it, Leo. Thank you.”

Though you were still dead on your feet and reeling from the emotional whiplash you'd been put through, an odd form of peace had engulfed you. Talking things out had taken a massive weight off of your shoulders.

You felt heat prick your cheeks as you sheepishly recalled the way you'd isolated yourself after leaving the construction site. At the time, it had felt like the natural path forward. But it clearly hadn't done you any good.

Your coworkers were eternally patient as you fumbled your way through your daily tasks, your brain still a glob of jelly after being berated by both Frank and your mother.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, you collapsed onto a bar stool. Kneading your forehead with one hand, you inhaled deeply.

Peeking around the corner of the walk-in, Leo frowned. “All of them?”

Nodding miserably, you forced a response around the lump in your throat. ”Every. Single. One.“

”Aw, babes.“ Leo pouted, coming to inspect the trays you'd thrown around your station as your defeat grew.

”They're all flat. How did it slip my mind that the rain would throw off the humidity in the main room? That's, like, proofing 101.“ You moaned, prodding one of the dense croissants with a finger. ”Christ, I feel like I've lost my mind. It should not be this hard to do something simple.“

Patting your back reassuringly, your best friend ignored your protests, lining your ovens with the ruined croissants and setting a timer. “Do you remember the first time Ez and I broke up?”

Ezra, Leo's on-again-off-again partner, had broken things off for the first time right before you both took your final preparation exam for your first pastry class in school. Leo had nearly flunked the course after they used salt instead of sugar in every dish.

Stifling a chuckle, you fiddled with the strands of your apron. “I seriously think Allard was reconsidering his decision to teach. His face!“ You and Leo snorted in tandem, picturing the old french man's grimace.

”Oh he definitely had regrets. My point is, the brain works in mysterious ways when you're grieving.“ Leo stated matter-of-factly.

”Grieving?“ You asked. “Frank didn't die–”

“I know that, smartass. But you still lost something, did you not?”

Pondering for a moment, you conceded. “I suppose.”

“So, your brain is handling this just like any other loss. Grief processing is its current main priority, remembering how to make picture-perfect croissants is not even in the backlog.”

“It should be, given that we operate a bakery.” You grumped, watching the pitiful slabs of dough puff slightly in the oven.

Smacking you gently over the back of your head, Leo's expression turned endearingly stern. “You, my dear, need to be kinder to yourself. Something huge and incredibly hurtful just happened to you. Give yourself a moment to breathe.”

Their soft command gave you pause. They weren't wrong. You'd jumped from escaping, to wallowing, to working without so much as a millisecond to relax. Had this bullshit happened to anyone else, you would've been much more understanding. But being kind to yourself was never your strong suit.

Mulling over the possibility of granting your brain a smidge of grace, you watched the flat pastries expand ever so slightly as they began to brown under the yellow oven lights. Realization finally striking you, you turned to Leo with a quizzical expression.

“You put them in the oven.” You stated simply, mind not quite forming a question to remedy your confusion.

Chuckling, Leo nodded. “I did.” They leaned against your station with a smile.

“Kitchen adaptations, hun. What did we used to do with pastry dough that didn't rise properly?”

Understanding dawning on you, your lips parted. “Croissant sandwiches.”

Squeezing your shoulder, Leo hummed in confirmation, striding back to their station to finish shaping bread loaves. You continued to watch the thin crescents puff, reminding yourself that the mistake was fixable. Sure, they wouldn't be the gorgeous, fluffy pastries you'd envisioned—but they could still be made into something delicious. For today, that was enough.

Feeling less hopeless, you wiped your hands on your apron and strolled over to the lines of proofing bread, moving them to the proofing cart easily. ”What are we stocking today?” You asked, hoping they'd notice the hidden meaning of the question.

“Let's stick to simple comfort foods. The weather is nasty, we probably won't be too busy. After we finish the staples, we could make some baguettes and a soup or two? Maybe some kitchen sink cookies and brownies too. Those won't take much effort.“ Leo tapped their chin thoughtfully, looking to you with a soft expression. ”Sound good?“

Smiling, you nodded–glad that Leo was willing to take charge for the day. Sliding your arms around your best friend's waist, you squeezed them tightly before bustling off to prepare some yeast.

Over the next few weeks, your mood improved significantly. Out of concern for you, and more than likely out of concern for the bakery, Stacy and Leo had spent a handful of nights at your place–helping you wind down after work, and motivating you to get up the next morning. Their presence and constant glares towards your and Frank's shared wall made it easier to move forward without him. You could feel your consciousness wading through the stages of grief, rapidly approaching acceptance.

For now, though, you were still moping–much to your friends’ dismay.

”C'mon, Princess! Live a little!! You haven’t gone out with us in forEVER“ Stacy whined, pinching your arm as she took a seat on the counter you were cleaning.

Scowling at her, you switched your rag out for a broom, determined to keep tidying around the obstruction she presented. ”I already told you. I don't feel like going out tonight, Stace.“

Sweeping stray coffee beans from under the machines, you fought back an eye roll at her snort. ”Oh, I'm sorry, did you have plans besides crying on your couch while watching rom coms?“

”Christ, Stacy, I told you to invite her, not insult her!“ Leo scolded as they exited the kitchen.

”Someone needs to say it!“ Stacy threw her hands in the air, looking at you pointedly. ”Being sad has its time and place, but the only way to truly get over a man is by going out and getting wasted, you both know I'm right!“ She huffed in frustration as both you and Leo opened your mouths to protest.

Scratching the back of their neck sheepishly, Leo raised a brow at you. “She actually might have a point.”

Pumping her fists victoriously, Stacy leapt from the counter. “See? It'll be good for you!”

Glancing between her and Leo, you sighed. Pouting in distaste, you knew you had been outvoted. If you refused to go, they’d drag you out anyway. “Fine.”

Your friends cheered, high-fiving their success. Stacy danced over to you. “It's gonna be great, princess. You'll see!”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You snarked, dipping the formerly abandoned rag in a bin of bleach solution and resuming your afternoon disinfecting duties in the front of the cafe while your coworkers plotted the outing.

“What are you going to wear, hun?” Leo called over their shoulder to you, after complaining to Stacy about their lack of cute clothes.

“Considering I am only going to please the two of you? I'm not quite sure.” You snorted, tone still sharp with irritation.

“Well, since you're clearly in such a great mood,” Leo giggled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Maybe we could get ready together?”

“We totally should! While blasting EDM really loudly in your living room!” Stacy grinned, feigning innocence despite her clear intentions to make Frank's life a living hell.

“Ok now you are definitely not invited.” You frowned, imagining how much he'd curse at you if you became a horrid neighbor on top of all your other faults.

“It's cute that you think you have a choice!” Stacy laughed evilly, rubbing her hands together in a movie-villain-esque motion.

Groaning miserably, you stiffened as Stacy padded over and held a hand out for the rag.

Making a grabby hand gesture, her other palm landed on her hip. “Hand the towel over, princess. You and Leo can head to your place to get you all fixed up and I'll finish cleaning.”

“I'm not sure whether I should be offended that you're implying I don't look stunning like this,” You circled a hand around your unwashed face. “Or worried that you're offering to lock up. You hate closing.”

“Exactly. That’s how much I want you to have a good night out, dude!” Stacy gave you a stern look, flicking her eyes between the damp rag and your stubborn expression.

Sighing heavily, you tossed the rag to her and slipped out of your apron. “If this place isn't gleaming tomorrow–”

“Yah, yah.” Stacy waved you off, putting earbuds in as she walked to the other end of the room.

“The disrespect.” You muttered, turning to Leo who was clearly amused at the fact that you'd been outwitted by the other girl.

“C'mon, sweets. We'll need to stop somewhere for drinks unless we want to go into debt to get drunk tonight.” Grabbing your hand, the two of you left Stacy and the bakery behind as you braved the heat outside.

Slogging up the stairs, arms laden with a paper bag filled with the cheapest alcohol the three of you could stomach, you adjusted your center of gravity to avoid toppling down the stairs. It felt like you were swimming upstream, given the weight in your hold and the immense humidity of the stairwell. Finally reaching the landing, you scrunched your nose as a bead of sweat dripped from it.

“Took you long enough,” Leo remarked, smirking at you from your front door, having made it up the stairs long ago. 

“Not all of us have a lithe athletic build and the heart rate of an Olympian.” You huffed, shuffling toward them with a small smile. Despite your initial apprehension, excitement had started to build in your chest at the thought of the night ahead of you. As you were about to express that much to Leo, the click of a doorknob stopped you in your tracks. 

Stepping out of his apartment, adorably happy pitbull in tow, was none other than your neighbor, Frank Castle. 

Frozen in place, it was a miracle you didn’t drop the bag in your shock. You’d assumed he’d avoid you just as you’d avoided him. Apparently you weren’t that lucky. 

Looking a bit surprised himself, Frank hesitated for a minute before plastering a scowl on his face and tugging at the leash in his grasp. “C’mon Max.” 

Watching Frank stalk past you without so much as a glance in your direction, your mouth dropped open with indignation. Poor Max was dragged to the stairs behind him, despite the dog’s efforts to greet you on the way down the hall. 

Gritting your teeth, you marched to your own door and unlocked it. Carefully depositing the bottles on the ground, you grabbed a handle of cherry vodka, cracking it open and taking a swig as you stomped into your apartment. 

“I suppose that’s one way to handle whatever just happened.” Leo murmured, studying you with a concerned frown. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Nope!” You grinned, pulling another gulp of liquor from the bottle. “Care to help me pick an outfit? I’m hoping to drink for free tonight.” 

Striding into your room with Leo on your heels, your gut burned as the lump of despair you’d been clinging to for a week burned red hot with rage. Your friends were right. You deserved better. 

If Frank Castle didn’t want you, then you sure as hell didn’t want him.

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