#so spending the day making some extra cash and then getting to go home and cuddle my cats seems like the best plan tbh

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

My boss asked if I could come in and work a few hours on my birthday next month (it's on the weekend this year and my normal work schedule is just weekdays) because we have a very time sensitive and expensive two day experiment lined up and ngl as someone who doesn't really like her birthday or has the best memories associated with it, getting paid time and a half for a few hours to fuck around with super expensive shit sounds pretty fun.

[pedgito]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 — one: beginnings | Joel Miller x reader

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chapter summary | You're dead weight, a burden on Joel's shoulders after the death of his daughter and the collapse of the world. But, if there's one person to challenge him, it was you.

author's note | this spurred from jo (@undercoverpena) and i, a conversation over kinks and wanting to explore them in separate chapters but somehow create a cohesive story and here we are. she spun for me and gave me a collection of beautiful kinks to try out. this is going to be BIG one for me, so if you plan on staying along for this ride, i love you so much.

chapter warnings | 18+, early outbreak, age gap (early 20s, mid 30s), canon character de*th, canon typical violence, m*rder tw, morally grey!joel with trust issues, tommy is buffer, use of weapons, weapon training, unjust decision making, reader is such a nuisance to joel, sex as a distraction, joel is so emotionally stunted he can't help it, awkward aftercare

word count —6k

SERIES MASTERLIST, PLAYLIST, AO3

You’ve never seen so much blood.

His shirt was soaked to his neck, expression blank and void as Tommy rounded the truck to open the door—it wasn’t the same one you’ve seen pull into their driveway for years now. It was new, unfamiliar. Joel’s weighed down, his arms straining as he heaves whatever he’s holding up in his arms, finally coming from around the door and into view. Her curls fell first, body limp in Joel’s arm as he held her close–it was Sarah. Little Sarah who you would babysit in high school for extra cash when the Miller brothers had to work a few extra jobs to pay the bills, little Sarah who always had the biggest smile on her face. Not so little anymore, years gone and passed as you graduated and went off to work some dead-end job to stay afloat in hopes that you could attempt to pay a college tuition.

But, that all seemed futile now. 

It was late September when the world ended—Joel’s birthday, you’d know that from the fact Sarah had mentioned it to you that morning as she checked the mail that Joel had forgotten from the day before. A normal day for you, for everyone else. But, for Sarah and many others, it was their last.

The neighborhood was quiet now, the hoard of freshly turned infected heading for the inner city and toward the noise, like one singular hivemind following a predetermined path. 

And your parents—they weren’t even here. They had left for vacation a week prior, spending the next two weeks out of the country, celebrating their anniversary far away from responsibility and the barrage of news from all over the world. But, they would come back to nothing. You couldn’t stay, you couldn’t wait around—it would get you killed; starvation, lack of resources, it would only get you so far. 

The infection was worldwide, incurable—it was the last thing you heard before the satellite on your television cut out, snuffing out any last bit of hope you had left.

In the midst of Joel’s mindless walk to the front door of his home, Tommy glances over his shoulder to survey, likely for more infected. But, he spots you.

His eyes squint slightly, like he’s seeing a vision of you. They widen as he realizes you’re real, you here—you were shaking, arms crossed over your chest and your fingers digging into your biceps as you hid by the shadow of your door.

Tommy knows that look, your eyes go wide but soften as he approaches. 

You can’t say you’ve held a conversation longer than five minutes with either of them, even after living next to them most of your life, but his hands are held up as he approaches and carefully, almost as if you were going to scurry away like a feral cat.

“You alright, honey?” His voice is quiet, a hushed whisper as he comes closer and stops a few inches, peering inside of your house and finding it empty, “Are they—did they—”

He looks over at you wearily and your fingers dig into your skin, peering over his shoulder and staring at the open door, Joel no longer in sight, “They left on a trip and I—I don’t,” You sigh through your nose, closing your eyes to blink away the stinging tears, “They’re dead either way, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t answer, but his hand reaches around to rub at your back and you fall into him easily.

“Sarah–” Tommy tenses up, pulling away slowly to look at you as you peer up at him, noticing the near permanent frown on your face, your expression unchanging as you attempt to process and fail—it wasn’t fair, none of it made sense, “is she dead?”

The sound of something fragile falling and breaking in Joel’s house startles you both, sending you both apart and rushing toward the house without thinking. The idea of being alone now was more fearful than anything else—no survival instinct, no plan or method to stay alive. You’d be dead by next nightfall if you stuck around though, that much you knew.

The sight sends your heart into your stomach. Joel was hunched over Sarah’s lifeless body, his arms sticky with blood—some of it dried and some of it not. There were a few broken picture frames on the floor at Sarah’s feet and you felt your breath catching in your throat, watching as Joel brushed her hair from her face and cried, silently.

“Joel,” Tommy begins, slow and careful, “we’ve gotta figure out a plan.”

“We’re buryin’ her first,” Joel tells him, “not leavin’ her like this.”

Tommy nods in understanding, looking over at you briefly.

“Listen, Joel…”

“She ain’t our problem, Tommy.” He bites harshly, resting Sarah down gently as he rose from his knees, “Kid’s got her own family.”

“Joel,” Tommy stresses, motioning toward you subtly—Joel looks reluctantly and he can see the fear, practically smelling it on you—it’s the last thing he needs right now, “they’re gone—can’t leave her here.”

“We can.”

“We won’t.”

You take a few careful steps back, quiet and timid, away from the brothers.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy moves in, blocking his brother’s face from view as you lingered near the open front door, staring out toward the street as you couldn’t bare the sight of Sarah’s body laying a few feet to your right, “she used to babysit Sarah—helped you out in a pinch a hundred times. I understand this—”

“This is my daughter—”

“She’s my niece too, goddammit—don’t try and spin this, Joel.” Tommy rocks on his heels, hands hugging his hips as his shoulders stretch out, broad and wide, “We bury her, we get our shit and we go–I’m not losing you, too. I will drag your ass out of here if I have to.”

There’s a sliver of Joel’s face that comes into view as he peers over Tommy’s shoulder at you, eyes dragging over you carefully before he returns to Tommy, “She’s ain’t worth the trouble.”

He’s completely tossing aside the fact that you were an adult, young but still—you sigh shakily, “I can carry my own weight, you know?”

He’s stoic, a long stretch of silence as Tommy stares him down, lingering and waiting for Joel to come to his senses, but even when he does—it’s forced.

“Then start loading the truck,” Joel tells you, “anything—food, water—”

“Yeah, I got it.” You respond in a pinched tone, trying to stifle your own emotions.

Joel doesn’t argue further, picking up Sarah with a sudden gentleness that returns at the sight of his daughter while Tommy disappears to the attached garage and you linger for a brief moment as Joel admires her, knowing that this was all he had. Knowing that eventually even this memory would fade over time.

His guard softens as he looks at her and you find that was the right time to speak more candidly.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” You tell him, your voice quiet as you approach and he looks at you briefly, acknowledging with a nod as you move beyond him and toward the kitchen, “she’s a sweet kid.”

His voice breaks but barely wavers, a subtle sign of emotion that he was suppressing deep down.

“She was.”

His departure after that is quiet, meeting Tommy at the backdoor as he reentered from the garage with the shovels and blanket in hand, a sorrowful look on his face that furrowed his brow.

They both worked silently in the backyard while you loaded up what you could. Their house was mostly scarce, knowing Joel was probably creeping up on a shopping day that would never come. There’s a few canned goods you manage to scavenge along with a decently untouched pack of water bottles and while you couldn’t brave the other houses in fear that something else might be lingering, you gather what you can from your own. 

By the time you’re closing up the truck bed they’re both walking toward you, a gun tucked away in both of their waistbands and a rifle in Joel’s free hand—his arms were cleaner, albeit still dirty.

He’d changed, rid himself of the bloody clothes and brushed past you silently, his eyes dark and empty. 

Tommy stops at your feet, offering up a knife sheathed in a leather casing that you could attach to your jeans, “Ain’t got another gun, but it’s somethin’.”

You nod slightly and take it from his grip, “Thank you,” You tell him, turning to find Joel waiting with the door open, expecting that you would climb into the middle as there was nowhere for you to go, unless the truck bed seemed like the better option—it didn’t.

It was blind trust, putting your life in the hands of both brothers. 

But, you had no choice. All that mattered was living.

—

And for Joel, the cost didn’t matter.

It’s jarring, frightening. His emotions are like a light switch—when on, he’s calm and able to hold small talk, but even that was forced and uneasy. But, when your supply dwindles down after a week or so of driving and camping in the deep brush of forest, you find what the light switch is like when it’s off.

It was a stranger, a helpless guy alone and clearly on the verge of death. All of you were on edge, the dwindling September heat still lingered into October and you had blew through your last bottle of water the night before, sweat dampening your clothes as you sifted through the aisles of the convenience store that was bare bones and empty by now but you were hoping, praying—but then you hear it and to Joel, it was prey. 

He yanks your knife from where it’s secured at your waist, so quick you barely even feel the tug as he carefully steps around the corner toward the counter, finding an older gentleman with feeble hands and energy that was dying out by the second. He was starving, dehydrated. But, so were you. And so was Joel.

“Joel, don’t.” You speak from behind him, “There’s another store in town. It’s bigger.”

“Hand it over,” Joel demands, the knife tucked away in his right hand behind his back as he held out his left, beckoning with his fingers as the man stared on, bottom lip trembling in fear as he squeezed at the plastic bottle, “now.”

There’s a moment of hesitation where the man begins to speak, shaking his head, but Joel is on him before he gets the chance, shoving the knife through the center of his throat—quick, quiet, efficient. You sigh deeply, knowing it was already coming. Joel wipes the blood away on the now dead man’s pants and snatches up the water bottle before he’s shoving it into your chest and sliding the knife back into the holster.

“You killed him,” Joel looks at you torsely, eyes half-lidded as he waits for you to continue, “you—you didn’t have to kill him, Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” He answers with finality, “Tommy’s waiting’, let’s go.”

You glance at the dead body with a grimace, the weight of it pulling down as the man slumped to the floor and his blood pooled closer and closer toward you. You step back quickly and follow after Joel who’s already ringing the bells on the door above the entrance.

“That was quick—no trouble?” Tommy asks when you return to the truck, climbing over Joel’s lap as he refuses to move, digging your knee into his thigh out of annoyance.

He takes it in stride, though. Doesn’t even react.

“No,” You lie easily, “Last one, though.”

You’ve learned to not speak on it—Joel’s quick tendencies for anger and bruteness. Hell, most of the time you could just ignore it, like now. Arguing never worked, Joel didn’t care enough.

Besides, you were just a waste of resources. Joel said it so often that it echoed in the back of your mind every time he slashed, stabbed, or gutted someone for something you needed, or wanted.

It started in small glimpses, you or Tommy could say a word, make a noise, and Joel’s brow would pinch together and the scowl on his face would deepen. 

And Tommy was objectively selfless, which bothered Joel more than it should—but given how things were, it made sense. Good karma wasn’t going to do anything for your conscience in a world that was based on self-preservation. In Joel’s mind, it was kill or be killed. And he always killed first. He learned not to take chances, hold out on good faith. It didn’t exist anymore.

And he didn’t just attack on his own behalf—he’s done it for you on a few occasions. You’ve never killed an infected, Joel always got the first hit in. Your knife would be at the ready, shaky in your grip and he would look over at you with dismay, knowing that if you did manage to have a shot you would ultimately miss. So, instead of coaching, he yanks the knife from your grip and plunges it into the skull of the infected. 

He hides his tendencies from Tommy well for a while—you always sensed Joel’s underlying itch for conflict after Sarah’s ultimate death and the few weeks you spend together on the road. You didn’t stay anywhere longer than a couple days, different cities throughout Texas as you made your way upstate. Utah, Boston, Pittsburg. Anywhere but here.

The early mornings in the forest after an uncomfortable sleeping arrangement—no rain meant sleeping in the bed of the truck or setting up camp in the one tent you had to share. But, when it did, the three of you would be forced to hunker down inside the four feet of truck cabin with nowhere to angle yourself but one of the brothers. Joel almost always shrugged you away, so by default, Tommy was the one you always chose. He didn’t seem to mind, thankfully.

Regardless, early mornings usually meant that Tommy would take his time teaching you a few things while Joel slept heavy in the truck, the low rumble of his snore heard as you both paused and Tommy readjusted the position of the knife in your grip.

“If you’re gonna hold it the way you gotta keep the dull side close to your arm,” He tightens your fist around the handle, “that way you ain’t accidentally cutting yourself with your own blade.”

You nod, squeezing down on your grip until it feels comfortable and Tommy leads your hand back toward you before guiding it through and back towards him slowly, “Always aim for the head on infected—right to the brain, kills ‘em instantly.”

You already knew that, but the reiterating is a nice reminder. 

Everything had a weakness.

“People,” Tommy starts hesitantly, “I mean, they’re livin’ and breathin’—if you let them close enough anywhere is gonna hurt them, but try to aim for the neck or the face.”

The stark image of Joel forcing the knife through the center of the man’s throat is heavy on your mind and Tommy pats on your arm as you lower it, but your eyes focus on his waist.

“Can you teach me how to shoot?”

Tommy looks at you wearily—not because he doesn’t trust you, but there’s something there.

“What happens if one of you is in trouble?” You ask him, pressing on the issue. “And I’m the only one who can do anything? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I’m not asking for everything, just enough to know. Tommy, come on.”

Tommy sighs, scratching at his slightly grown-out facial hair. It wasn’t nearly as thick as Joel’s, but it was clear you had all been deprived of basic hygiene over the last several weeks.

“Alright,” He relents, but holds up a finger at you, “Just the basics, for now.”

“I mean, Joel’s planning to drop me off at the nearest QZ anyways,” You joke, shoving your knife into the casing at your waist as Tommy pulls the gun out of where it’s tucked into the back of his jeans, “might as well learn as much as I can before then.”

“He won’t,” Tommy assures you, “we’re not abandoning you like that.”

You didn’t agree, but you push the words back down and take the gun that Tommy is offering as he comes to your side, arms coming around your back and around you. He’s positioning your fingers alongside his own and speaking over your shoulder and neither of you hear the car door that opens over your shoulder.

Within seconds the gun is being yanked from your grip and into Joel’s, his fingers dangling through the loop of the trigger and his eyes locked on his brother, “You lost your damn mind?”

Tommy snatches the gun back from his brother, tucking it away into his waistband.

“She’s got just as much reason to learn,” Tommy argues, “—I don’t see you makin’ an effort to teach her anything.”

“It’s not my problem,” Joel says dismissively, “we’re better off just doing the work ourselves. Kid can’t even kill an infected, she’s not gonna save your ass in a gunfight, either.”

The frustration in you boils, simmering over the edge as you push through both of them and toward the truck, closing the door with a slam as their angered voices muffle into the cabin of the truck.

“She’s not our problem, Tommy,” Joel tells him, “the sooner you realize that the better.”

“That why you plan on droppin’ her off on the doorstep of the first QZ we stumble into?”

There’s a long beat of silence before Joel speaks, “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to,” Tommy answers, his voice laced with smugness that even you could hear, “she’s already got it set in her mind that you will and you know what—don’t blame her, either.”

Eventually, the argument settles. It’s abrupt and both of them sandwich next to you in silence as Tommy follows the path back to the road, his fingers drumming quietly against the steering wheel. But, you can feel the charge of Joel’s frustration as his fingers twist around each other. You tune it out eventually, the silence drowned out by the low hum of a cassette tape that was playing a song you had heard a thousand times by now.

You knew your own weakness was hope and it was dwindling every day.

-

By Denver, you’re all irritable. Eleven hours cramped in a truck on days of very little sleep and small scraps of meals you’ve made stretch for weeks. All the tension, arguing, and frustrations comes to a head when you stumble upon an abandoned cabin on the outskirts of town, close to the mountains and secluded. It was perfect. 

There was a large, brushy forest to hunt and it was right beside a stream. You knew it was better than nothing and that the three of you could make it work for a time—the only problem, it was already occupied.

“Stay in the truck,” Joel orders to you, cocking his gun in his lap before he’s stuffing it back into his jeans and nodding at Tommy to follow. You almost expect him to argue, but he doesn’t. He follows, like a dutiful little brother as they both stalk toward the cabin calmly.

It was one car, clearly hot-wired and stolen alongside its broken windows.

It was clear that whoever was in the cabin wasn’t the original owners either, spotting the pile of dead infected burned to a crisp beside a stack of logs that you assumed were to keep the fire burning inside the house, watching as the black smoke creeped out of the chimney.

The minutes that pass feel like an hour and you begin to wander if they both decided to keep going, abandon you and try their chances down the stretch of highway without you.

You scoot into the driver’s seat and open the door, stepping out carefully as they muddy ground causes you to slip until you regain traction and as you close the door you hear it—a loud crash, a scuffle, and then Tommy’s voice alongside Joel’s.

You run in without thinking, crashing through the slightly open door to find them both with their arms around the neck of two other men, the strangers your eyes set on are already fading. They claw, scramble for air but they’re losing. Joel slams the butt of his gun into the back of the head of the guy he’s holding before they’re both twisting at their necks in unison, the signifying crack louder than the bodies as they hit the ground.

It isn’t shocking as it should be, having seen so many people on the other end of Joel’s violence—but for Tommy, the guilt of you having to witness that is immediate.

“Kiddo, I’m sorry,” He approaches, his hands out in front of him—he was approaching you the same way he had on outbreak day, timid and careful, “you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

You glance at Joel briefly who’s gun drops to the floor behind him as he heaves the dead man up in his arms and drags him out the back door of the cabin, there’s a subtle shake to his head at Tommy’s words that makes your ears ring, drowning out his profuse apologies.

“It’s us or them, right?”

It cuts off his line of speech and his eyebrows raise slightly, “What?”

“Us or them—I’m always going to choose us, for as long as that is. Joel would too.”

Suddenly he realizes that his justifying is naut as Joel rounds the corner and continues to drag the other body out before he’s joining you both in silence as he rubs his hands against his jacket.

“Alright, uh—I want you both to settle in here, try and make it more homey for the time being. I’m gonna drive into town and see what supplies I can scavenge, should be back by nightfall.”

“I’ll come with you,” Joel adds, but Tommy stops him.

“No,” He tells his brother, a quick shake of his head, “stay here with her, get another fire going.”

And for once, Joel listens to his younger brother. His tongue is poking at his cheek as he looks away with a begrudging annoyance as he stalks toward the fireplace.

“Keep an eye on him,” Tommy whispers to you, “alright?”

You nod and smile at the gentle squeeze to your bicep that Tommy offers as he departs.

When he’s gone, the silence is deafening. Joel’s gun was still on the floor, somehow forgotten by the man who never let anything slip past him, always on guard, always ready to attack.

His back is turned when you pick up the gun, the deafening click making his head turn on a swivel.

-

He’s on you in seconds, standing from his crouched position but you were quicker, stuffing the gun behind your back with a faint smile, taking a few steps away.

“Give it to me,” Joel commands, palm extended in waiting.

“Not like you to leave stuff layin’ around,” you comment jestingly, “I think I’ll keep it for a bit.”

He stalks, heavy footsteps against the hardwood floor as you retreat further and further until you’ve ultimately cornered yourself and Joel lunges for it behind your back but you take the opportunity to sweep under his arm and slip from his grip, dangling the gun from the grip of it with two fingers.

“What? You don’t trust me with it?” you taunt, “Think I’m gonna shoot you, don’t you?”

“I’m not askin’ again,” He charges and despite your quick reflex his hand is on your wrist first, the other coming around your neck as he presses you against the back of an old, dusty couch. It creaks under your weight and sends a cloud of dust up with the movement, “drop it.”

“Say it to my face,” you retort behind a strangled tone, feeling the heavy pressure of his thick fingers around your throat, tilting your chin up at his face where he towers over you, “say it and I’ll go—you won’t see me again, hear from me. I won’t be your responsibility anymore.”

Joel shakes your wrist and squeezes and the gun drops, clattering against the floor but he doesn’t let go, not yet.

“You’ll die out there.”

You squint your eyes in disbelief, a soft laugh bubbling from your chest.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you repeat that to Tommy a million times over the last few months.”

You pull at his grip but find that it only tightens, your fingers clawing at the hand around your throat, his fingers tucked under your jaw as it pulls your chin up and up, nearly touching his chest with how close he is to you now, your feet scrambling slightly underneath your for proper footing as you leaned against the couch. 

You speak again, hoping to crawl under his skin and make him uneasy, bothered.

“What? Sudden change of heart?” you ask, “Suddenly I’m worth protecting? Tommy would love to know about the handful of men you’ve killed in my honor, you know?”

Joel’s face twitches at that, his eyes dragging toward the gun on the floor—that was your window.

You force your knees up and into his stomach, shoving him away as he stumbles but the feeling of his arm coming around your abdomen has you squirming, turning and hitting him with weak, balled up fists that didn’t amount to half the strength he encompassed. It was barely a struggle for him.

Eventually you give up, waiting and waiting for him to let you go. His gaze is heavy, almost curious in the way he watches you go through the stages of resistance to acceptance and then finally giving up before your eyes are peering up at him, pressed against him at every point of contact, the cold metal of his belt buckle digging into your stomach.

“You’re stuck with me and I’m sorry,” you tell him out of desperation, “I just want to learn and you could teach—”

It takes you a second to process when his lips press against yours, a biting kiss that is forceful and startling, gasping into his mouth at the action but your body reacts instinctively, arms wrapping around his neck and hands fisting into his hair, the subtle essence of salt and pepper that was only noticeable this close. Joel groans softly, the first true and honest sound that has come from him all evening.

“Irritating,” Joel speaks against your lips, mumbled as he leads you, bumping your legs against the arm of the couch before you’re both tumbling over, “—do you ever fuckin’ shut up?”

He’s coined you vexatious in his own mind, not realizing how impossible he was to be around either—stubborn, impossible. An unmoving force of rigidness, but here he was—pliable to the fingers that slip under his shirt as he settles between your open legs, his own pulling at the button of your jeans.

You don’t need words, knowing that you both have communicated off eye contact at a level that was never spoken about but just worked. It clicked and when he pushed, you gave into the blow.

Silently you work alongside his own hands, pushing your jeans down and off. You kick them to the floor, working at your underwear while he undoes his own jeans, feeling like you were both working against the clock with your heart hammering in your chest. He was eager, impatient—still Joel, but it was a new look. It was the dynamic that, for you, felt like the missing piece.

Weeks of constant bickering and side-eyed glances all boiling down to one break in his mulish personality, this was the resolve.

The warm touch of his palm against your upper thighs pull your attention to him and he breathes out harshly through his nostrils, his jeans shoved down his thighs and his free hand palming himself over his underwear, squeezing at your skin as he offers only one word in acknowledgement. A question.

“Yeah?”

You nod shakily, answering with a soft, “Yes.”

-

There is no build-up, no gentle touching that leads to soft caresses as Joel presses himself inside of you. His hand is gripping the arm of the couch above your head as he grips himself at the base of his cock before he’s pushing in with one solid jerk of his hips, a hurried and desperate movement to bury himself inside of you. Your fingers pull at the hair by his nape and he grunts, head pulling back as he snapped his hips back and pushed into you again, sharp and angered. His jaw was tense, the subtle peek of teeth bared behind his lips

It’s a harsh disjunction; a man you would watch from your window on weekends as he spent mornings chasing Sarah out in the lawn—softer, happier. Her protector.

With reluctance, he’s become your own. Whether he would admit it aloud or not, he knows. But, it isn’t the same—you were extra baggage, a burden, but one he felt chained too. And more importantly, distraction.

You could see his humanity slipping week by week, a dull shell of himself most days. He won’t even look at you now, his eyes squeezed shut as he thrusts into you, your eyes dragging from his face to his cock, your hand traveling down to fist at his shirt, dragging it up his stomach. 

The dark, coarse hair at the base of his cock traveled up his stomach, across his thighs. Big, strong thighs that held your legs apart and the thickness of him ached, stretched you open after months of unintentional celibacy forcing you to grip him tight, wincing with every continuous snap of his hips, feeling a hand come around to cup the back of your head, cradling it as his forehead drops and presses against your own, blocking your line of sight and forcing your eyes closed. Just feel, he’s trying to convey. Don’t think.

And it works, lingering thoughts fading away as pleasure bleeds in. His top lip grazing against the round part of your nose, his hot breath fanning over your mouth as he huffs and you moan against him, a soft and broken noise that only forces his grip to tighten against the back of your head and the other hand at your thigh, finger digging into the flesh so harshly that the ache would linger for days.

You feel the crest creeping up on you but it isn’t enough, slipping your fingers between your body silently, but the fingers around your wrist startle you, dragging you back to the surface and opening your eyes to his, his expression earnest but stoic.

“Don’t,” He shakes his head, “—just close your eyes, I got it.”

You can’t find the energy inside to argue, feeling the hand cradling your head circle around to the crown of your scalp, fingers digging into the hair and pulling taut, forcing your head back and then he’s touching you, two thick fingers circling your clit in time with his harsh, hurried thrusts.

You do close your eyes, feeling the soft tuft of his hair against the side of your face as buries himself there, his movements jerkier as his fingers work quickly, squeezing around him as your fingers dig into his forearm, hips working against his fingers instinctively to search out more and more until you’re tipping over the cliff and free-falling, coming with a soft gasp as he pulls away suddenly, fisting his cock tightly as he came over your stomach, hastily shoving your shirt out of the way as he grunts quietly, his face pinched and completely unreadable when you do finally find the energy to look at him, eyes dragging toward the ceiling as you breathe and try to process what the fuck just happened.

There’s a distant rip of fabric somewhere to the right of you and far away, noticing that Joel’s already redressed when he approaches and wipes gently at the mess of cum dressed across your stomach, shoving your jeans back into your hand in the same movement. 

You look at him oddly, shuffling the jeans and underwear in your grip as you rise, eyes following as he moved around, started building the fire Tommy had told him about a half hour ago and is so glaringly ignoring what had transpired just now—you move quickly, redressing to avoid the judgment if he looked back and you were still staring.

And you notice the itch, the unavoidable twitch in his shoulders as he can’t settle with his movements, occupying himself to keep running on the clear adrenaline high he was on—he’d killed a man and immediately directed his frustration at you and used it as a means to stall, distract, satiate that monster dwelling inside him that always came out around you.

“So, can I leave now?” You ask him, his eyes peeking over his shoulder as he shoved a new pile of wood into the fireplace, “Are we finished?”

“You’re not leaving,” Joel tells you—you weren’t moving, weren’t planning to, but you wanted to see where the conversation would go, whether Joel would admit that he cared more than he let on, his emotions so stunted since Sarah that they came out in bouts of violence and rage, “I’d never hear the end of it.”

You offer a smug chuckle in response, “So, I was right. You don’t want me around.”

Joel turns on his knee, allowing you to see the remnants of flush in his cheeks, his messy hair and his response that rips a hole straight through your chest, “I’m stuck with you because Tommy wants you around.”

It wasn’t a direct answer, but you could read into it enough.

You glance over the back of the couch, wondering if the gun was still laying on the floor where Joel had squeezed it out of your grip, but the click to your right has you turning in an instant, staring down the barrel of Joel’s gun.

“You got a lot to learn,” Your glare is less than impressed as it lands on him, petulant and annoyed, “Don’t ever touch my gun again, alright?”

“Oh,” you respond airily, an impish smile creeping onto your face as you tilted your head slightly, “so—you fucked me as punishment or because of some silly little fantasy you've always had of fucking your neighbors daughter?”

And to your surprise, Joel's response is less angered.

“You could do with a little punishment,” He rises on his knees, pocketing the gun back in his jeans, and smirking at your dumb-founded expression, “—couldn’t you?”

Joel approaches closer, motioning with his fingers for you to stand and without thinking, you follow. His subtle smirk grows wider and he’s reaching for the forgotten knife on the floor, having fallen off your pants in the midst of your hurried undressing.

“I ain’t here to teach—I’m keepin’ us alive. The sooner you learn to shut up and follow, the better,” He reaches for your hand, placing the knife into your open palm, “and you kissed back, so that look on your face, that regret—”

“Who said there was regret?”

Joel’s eyes stick to you, meeting yours fiercely for a moment as you take the knife from him and reattach it to the loop on your jeans. His tongue licks at his bottom lip briefly, watching the subtle grin spread across your face.

Your words were a challenge. 

And for you, that meant game on. 

-

dividers creds: @/saradika-graphics

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

[suashii]

— 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓃 ౨ৎ

miya atsumu x f!reader. 3.1k wc. ﾉ all characters are 21+ ﾉ nsfw ( MDNI! ) ﾉ bartender!atsumu ﾉ college au ﾉ dubcon ( via alcohol consumption ) ﾉ mentions of f!masturbation ﾉ fingering ﾉ cunnilingus ﾉ protected sex ( but mentions of creampie ) ﾉ repost from an old blog!

bartender!atsumu who only picked up the job because he thought the extra cash would be nice—after all, tuition is expensive. and it’s easy—making tips that is. he’s not ashamed to admit that ladies and men alike are naturally drawn to him. all he has to do to ensure that the women who frequent the establishment leave behind a generous amount of cash is send them a couple of flirty winks and tell ‘em how pretty their makeup is. it’s just as easy with his male patrons; nod along and mumble a “yeah man” every now and then and he’s sure to go home with more than he makes in his hourly wage for the night. he never puts too much thought into his behavior or lets his attention linger on any certain person for too long, that is, until you come along.

bartender!atsumu who’s rendered speechless when he turns around to tend to your call. the glass he’s working to dry off nearly slips from his hold before he regains his composure. it’s silly—letting down his guard like that, and so easily, too—but anyone would if they found themselves in his position. even under the dim lights, he can tell that you’re beautiful. there’s a playful sparkle in your eye and he can’t help but hone in on the glossy lip you have pulled between your teeth. he has to remind himself where he is and what he’s meant to be doing. a charming smile quickly finds its way to his face as he slings the cloth over his shoulder and asks what he can get for you.

bartender!atsumu who pulls out all of his best tricks to leave a lasting impression on you. sure, he’ll show off every now and then for other customers, but it’s always mindless—muscle memory. with you on the other side of the counter, he feels the need to make an active effort in his display of flair. spinning and flipping bottles by the neck and tossing ice cubes from one mixer to another warrants cheers from patrons across the bar. throughout all of it, not a single drop of liquid hits the surface between you. when he slides you the product of his labor—the well-crafted cosmopolitan—you clap for the little show he put on just for you. it’s hard to ignore his erratic heartbeat and the way the tips of his ears heat up at your praise. he’s almost disappointed when you don’t stick around at the bar, taking the drink and wandering off to regroup with your friends. he’s almost disappointed because before you part ways, you turn around and smile at him—a smile he knows he’ll never be able to forget.

bartender!atsumu who spends the majority of his shift thinking about how much he wants to hike up that pretty dress of yours—not that it needs to be tugged up significantly higher; it’s already quite short as is. it makes him wonder who you’re trying to look so sexy for. he’s just some employee at the club you frequent but embers of irritation simmer from within at the thought of you dressing up for anyone else but him. he’s able to reel himself back in—escape from the grasp of the green-eyed monster—by finding solace in other thoughts like what kind of panties you have hidden beneath the skimpy fabric. are you wearing any at all? it takes the impatient snapping from an annoyed customer who has been trying to get his attention for atsumu to snap out of it, but his mind always wanders back to you.

bartender!atsumu who quickly learns to look forward to weekends when he knows he’ll be able to see you. it’s a shame that he can only expect you on the most lively days when he’s the busiest, but despite his hectic workload, he still finds time to steal fleeting glances of you dancing with your friends. he’s shocked when he looks up to find you and you’re already staring back at him. did you feel his gaze on you? he thought he was being subtle but you seem to have caught on quickly. and instead of ignoring him, instead of spinning around falling back into the rhythm of the music, you stray from the bunch, pushing past the sea of sweaty bodies until you’re sliding onto the stool right in front of him. you order your usual cosmopolitan and sit back while he prepares it. this time is different from the others, though, because this time, you stay.

bartender!atsumu who uses the dumb party trick he perfected over multiple frat parties to impress you—cherry stem tying. it’s silly and childish but when you ask him if he could, he can’t come up with a valid reason not to show you. and maybe he shouldn’t be using bar inventory for personal affairs—he never has in the past—but you seem to draw out a side of him that he’s unfamiliar with, one where he hangs on your every word. feeling your intent gaze on his lips as he works his tongue to loop the thin stalk around itself is nearly enough to make him lose focus—fumble. when he sticks his tongue out the reveal the tight knot, you let out an exaggerated gasp; almost as if he’d been lying when he told you he could do it easily. he smirks, you know what they say about it; anyone who can is surely a good kisser. nothing could have prepared him for your response; maybe i should test to see if it’s true myself.

bartender!atsumu who thinks that he’s never felt more frustrated in his life than he does at this very moment. and sure, maybe he shouldn’t be openly flirting with patrons while on the clock, but is the world truly cruel enough to cut your interaction short just before he’s able to see if you’re bluffing? it’s unfair to blame the unfortunate turn of events on the world when the real culprit is standing right beside you. he figures it must be one of your friends, though, he can’t be sure considering you’re the only face he can pick out in a crowd. one thing he is 100% sure about is that the girl clinging onto your arm and telling you that she’s ready to go is a major cockblock. he has no right to feel as annoyed as he does when you give in to the woman’s request, pulling out your purse to pay the tab. the feeling doesn’t fade when you lay out the amount you owe and more because he doesn’t want money from you, he wants something else. but, to his surprise, the crisp bills aren’t the only thing you leave for him on the counter; a napkin soaked through with ink scrawling out a sequence of ten numbers and a messy heart accompanies the cash. he looks up to meet your eye and before your friend drags you away, you’re able to disclose your intentions; text me when your shift is over.

bartender!atsumu who thanks his lucky stars that his coworker who was scheduled to take care of closing shows up on time. he’s never been more eager to ditch his waist apron and get from behind the counter. ideally, he’d stop at home to freshen up, to wash off the sticking scent of liquor and sweat. but when he shoots you the message that he’s free for the night and you respond by sending him an address, making a detour to his place is the last thing he wants to do. and he thinks, what’s the point if he’s going to end up needing another shower later anyway? so instead of making a left a the light that would take him home, he follows the directions the gps spouts and turns right.

bartender!atsumu who feels like his heart might just beat out of his chest as he raps his knuckles against your door. he’s not usually so self-conscious before hook-ups but something about you makes him nervous. and not in a negative sense, no, not at all. it’s difficult to describe—what’s different about this time compared to the others, but a nagging thought in the back of his head tells him that he knows exactly what it is. something sets you apart from the others and deep down, he knows that at some point, lust has grown from an inkling of something more.

bartender!atsumu who certainly doesn’t expect to see you in the same dress from earlier when you finally swing the door open. he swallows the lump in his throat to keep from gaping. it’s pathetic, he thinks, being so out of sorts when he’d seen you in that very outfit only a couple of hours ago but the light emanating throughout your living room was much brighter than those in the club—he can see much more now. he can see the way the color of the fabric compliments your skin. he can see that the dress is abundantly tighter than he thought—it hugs the curves of your hips and contours your breasts. he would have ogled your body longer if it wasn’t for your arm on his bicep, ushering him into your apartment. it’s embarrassing how that little touch can cause his blood to rush south and leave his pants feeling uncomfortably tight.

bartender!atsumu who can’t hide how stunned he is at the fact that your lips are touching his. they’re soft, even softer than they look. once he’s over his initial shock, his hands find their way to your waist and he kisses you back. it’s dizzying and he wants to blame it on the lingering taste of vodka and cranberry but he knows that’s not it—you’re intoxicating. the slow pace of the kiss shifts when your tongue runs along his lower lip in a plea for him to let you in. he obeys, parting his lips. your tongue swirls and dances with his, pressing so hard into his mouth that your teeth nearly clash against his. he’s lightheaded and his brain is telling him he needs air but all he thinks he needs right now is you. he has to physically refrain himself from whimpering when you pull away, a string of saliva following you. it breaks when you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes so that your mouth is right beside his ear. the warmth of your breath tickles and he would have flinched if it wasn’t for the single word you whispered: bedroom.

bartender!atsumu who finally, finally gets to do what he’s been thinking about for the past few weeks. your restlessness is palpable as he slowly unzips your dress. he pushes the straps aside and presses a light kiss to each of your shoulders before gripping either side of the dress, tugging it down to reveal your tits. he watches as your nipples pebble at the exposure to the cool air. he’s tempted to roll one between his fingers, to pop one in his mouth, but he doesn’t. he has more pressing matters to attend to. your dress drags lower and lower, displaying more and more skin with each yank. he’s kneeling now, face-to-face with your crotch as he continues to pull the dress down your body. the fabric hits the floor and he almost laughs to himself—you weren’t wearing any panties.

bartender!atsumu who gently nudges you back so that you’re lying comfortably on the bed. he pushes your knees apart so he can get a good look at you. and if you had been wearing panties, you surely would have soaked through them. had you been touching yourself before he arrived? were you so needy that you couldn’t wait for him? or maybe the heated kiss from down the hall was enough to turn you on to the point of nearly dripping. regardless of what had gotten you so wet, he sucks in a breath at the sight. his fingers draw up to spread your glistening lips apart and a thin layer of your essence is left behind on them. everything in him is telling him to stick the fingers in his mouth so he could get a taste but he holds back. if he’s going to taste you, he has to do so properly.

bartender!atsumu who can’t help but moan into your sex when his tongue flattens and runs up the slit, only stopping when he meets the nub of nerves at your apex. he flicks it with his tongue and huffs out a short laugh at the surprised gasp that slips past your lips. your reaction encourages him to continue and he does until he catches sight of your hole clenching around nothing. he’s not quite ready to come up from between your legs but he isn’t so inhumane that he’d leave you hanging. one of his hands abandons its place on your thigh, two fingers collecting your slick before pushing into your gummy walls. 

it’s lewd—the sound that fills the room as his fingers rhythmically pump in and out of you, his mouth latched and sucking on your clit. when you begin to squirm and whimper, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm, his tongue and fingers trade places. he’d much rather feel you come in his mouth. his wet muscle delves into your dripping cunt while his thumb presses circles against the sensitive nub. your legs tighten around his head and your hands frantically tug at his hair as you continue to climb the stairs to your climax. the taut coil in your tummy finally snaps, drawing a shaky gasp from your throat. your back arches as pleasure washes over you, the man between your thighs still languidly lapping at your folds.

bartender!atsumu who pulls himself away from your cunt to reveal the mess of spit and your release left behind on the lower half of his face. you’re still lying on your back when you speak up, telling him you’d like to return the favor. and while the thought of you on your knees, eyes wide and peering up at him as your lips work his cock is one that’s undeniably enticing, the man doesn’t think he can wait any longer. and you don’t explicitly say so, but he’s sure that neither his tongue nor his fingers are enough to satiate you. 

undressing is a blur that comes and goes quickly—his shirt gets tossed somewhere on the floor and his belt doesn’t make it out of the loops before his slacks and boxers are pushed down to and off his feet. his heavy, hard cock slaps against his stomach the moment it’s freed from its confines. the tip is a rosy shade of red and leaking with precum. you must have busied yourself while he was ridding himself of his clothes because when he looks up to ask whether you have protection, you’re already holding a small, shiny foil square out to him. he accepts the condom, carefully tearing open the foil with his teeth. he gives himself a few swift strokes before sheathing his length with the rubber and sending you a look that silently asks for confirmation.

bartender!atsumu who pushes himself past your tight ring of muscles, slowly, inch by inch with a low groan, his hold tensing on your waist the deeper he reaches. you whine at the stretch—he makes you feel so full, stuffed to the brink. his generosity doesn’t go unnoticed—stilling so you can adjust to his size—but you need more and you tell him so by wriggling restlessly. he smiles at your impatience, caressing your sides with his thumbs before withdrawing, only to forcefully drive into you. the moan you let out is near-pornographic and you have no time to recover from the particularly powerful thrust before he’s setting an unrelenting tempo. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough and even though you’re too fucked out to decipher what you’re saying, you’re sure the indecipherable babbles are begs for more. and as much as he’d like to comply, rutting his hips comes as a difficult task when your walls are clenching around him so tightly. 

so, instead, he settles for bringing a thumb down to your swollen clit, pressing harsh circles against the sensitive bud. the extra stimulation sends you over the edge, your eyes rolling back and tremors racking throughout your body as a result of your orgasm. and he almost comes with you, his hips desperately rocking into you as he chases his high. his thrusts are sloppy and rushed, hushed moans accompanying the lewd squelching that echoes throughout the room. it only takes a few more deep plunges before he’s stilling and sucking in a sharp breath, his seed spilling into the condom.

bartender!atsumu who struggles to catch his breath as he pulls his softened cock out of you. it’s a shame, really, seeing his cum pooled in a condom instead of oozing out of you. thoughts of what it would be like to fuck you raw invade his mind. what would it feel to be swallowed by your warmth, to feel your arousal soaking his length? how much better would your uncontrollable spasms feel without the protective barrier between you? would you be able to take it if he decided to fuck his cum back into you until he came again? the image alone is fuel that goes straight to his cock, his erection hardening once more. despite wanting nothing more than to find the answer to all of his questions, he’s content tying up the rubber and disposing of it in the waste bin beside your bed. he isn’t so satisfied at the realization that it’s time for him to leave.

bartender!atsumu who forces himself to bury the giddy feeling that threatens to show on his face when you reach out for him and tell him he can stay. he’s had a long night, you explain; where’s the harm in letting him sleep over? and he knows that that’s probably all you mean by it, but he can’t help but feel as though maybe, just maybe, this is a step in the right direction. maybe that nagging thought from before wasn’t so far off, maybe you want him as much as he wants you.

bartender!atsumu who has no idea that you’ve already saved his number in your phone with every intention of seeing him again.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[s0ulm8s]

cinnamon, honey, & sage — geto suguru x human!reader

ೃ⁀➷ genre : fluff

*ೃ༄ words: 1.4k

⋆.ೃ࿔*: warnings & a/n : nothing, just fluff, girldad!geto suguru, honestly nothing too crazy or exciting just suguru going soft for a human (lmk if i should make a part two)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ read more works here ➼ masterlist

geto suguru didn't particularly look forward to having to saunter into the small bakery just a mere ten minute walk from his current residence. no, not because it was unsanitary or even that the food was bad — he simply wished to never interact with the monkeys nearby if he could help it.

they left a stench, one of greed and unworthiness. rotten and disgusting. actively seeking them out was not on his to-do list.

yet nanako and mimiko couldn't let the small place go. they loved it there. when suguru would give the girls a wad of cash and urge them to spend their day in the small city nearby — this place was always their last stop.

despite being branded as a bakery it stayed open late and sold sake, and even though the cute owner that sat behind the counter would giggle and politely refuse to sell the two girls the alcohol — she always gave them an extra pastry and let them spill their teenage gossip to her.

we bought you a scone geto-sama... but we shared it on the way home nanako would admit with a half-guilty grin but you should really try it yourself anyways! the owner is very pretty and i promise it smells nice!

he'd scoff lovingly at this, but the more the pair gushed about the owner and her sweet attitude towards his girls, it had become a recurring thought. and since mimiko had gotten sick, and inevitably passed it on to nanako — he figured the girls deserved some cheering up as they were getting better.

suguru looks up, the neon sign reads magic shop in japanese, lighting up in a pink and purple hue with the words bakery & bar underneath.

the sun was setting now and the bell to the door rings softly, alerting you from the back of the shop to a new customer. though you were open for another hour you weren't expecting many more customers on a week night.

suguru observes the small building, comfortable booths line the wall, and the ceiling to floor windows are littered with hanging plants and vines. lights dim and colorful flood his vision while soft music meets his ears. the atmosphere is nice, calming even and suguru finds himself looking for something to be displeased with. he grunts when he can't find anything.

so far his girls were right, it does smell nice. yet he hasn't seen another person yet, until he hears small padding footsteps come to the front — you must be the sweet owner who gives away free treats.

your face is pleasant and welcoming as you take in his appearance, skin a bit hot as you observe the much taller man. his dark hair is long, half tied up into a bun and the rest cascading over his shoulders. he's wearing a black button up, sleeve rolled up and tucked into casual black slacks that accentuate his figure nicely. and he is handsome. god, is he handsome.

you let the thoughts drift away as his gaze looks a bit apprehensive before slowly approaching the counter.

"hi, welcome in." you greet softly, voice melodic and sweet and he can't help but rejoice a bit that you aren't overly cheery or theatrical. "were you looking for anything specific tonight?"

he finally stops right in front of counter, gaze boring down onto you as he studies you. "yes, actually." he responds, voice low and dreamy as he scans the window with the pastries. "two raspberry muffins, three cinnamon scones, a cheese danish, and a loaf of your homemade bread."

his recitation of the order is precise and memorized, and you can't help but let out a giggle to yourself before commenting, "you must be the protective hermit who looks after mimiko and nanako, yeah?" you ask as he looks at you with a slightly shocked expression. you giggle again, and he leans a bit closer instinctively at the sound. "their words, not mine.. it's geto, right?"

he nods in confirmation, for some reason introducing himself with his full name as you do the same. at your comment he actually lets out a small chuckle, a grin finally finding his face and actually meeting his eyes before he nods, "i suppose that would be me.. i don't find myself out much, i have.. sensitivities." he admits, in the middle of his sentence realizing he hadn't even grimaced at a certain smell yet. no. you smelt nice, inviting even — you smelt of cinnamon, honey, and... what was that?... a hint of sage maybe. not too sweet or overbearing. suguru mentally slapped himself for enjoying it as much as he did. "you knew that just by their order?"

you laugh again as you nod, beginning to grab his items before speaking. "yeah, they've become some of my favorite regulars. they typically order the same things — aside from the homemade bread." you tell him, "you must not have much of a sweet tooth." you observe as he nods in confirmation. "that's okay, i don't really either.."

"yet you run a bakery?" suguru quips, letting out a small laugh as you nod.

"and bar." you correct with a smirk, "i know, i see the irony, too. but baking was something i learned to love from someone who just.. meant a lot to me." you find yourself admitting for reasons unknown. why were you so easily telling this man things about yourself?

he can almost see you inner turmoil, but he can understand your passion — loving something because someone you loved also did. it was slightly heartwarming, and he could feel his past creeping up his throat a bit. he swallows it down.

you clear your throat. "oo, i know! i have a new item i'd like you to try.. it's a taro bun but i make it with a different herbal mix, not too sweet but not too bitter. i think you might like it." you suggest, placing two of the lilac colored buns into his now large packaged box that was decorated in your logo and littered in small doodled flowers.

typically suguru would flinch and disregard anyones assumption at what he might like, yet he found himself gravitating toward you. listening intently, and he even hoped you were right. then he could come back and give you his honest review.

was he seriously searching for a reason to see you again already? tsk. maybe his girls were right, you do seem quite intriguing and magnetic. he can't believe he's allowing himself to think this way about a non-sorcerer.

"speaking of, where have those two been? i haven't seen them the last week or so — i was starting to get worried." you ponder, ringing his total up on your register. typically any pry into his life would annoy him, but your concern seems genuine and leaves him curious.

"ah, mimiko seems to have caught an illness and of course, nanako got it from her." suguru explains, and you're worried gaze finds his and he is quick to reassure you. "they're both already on the mend, don't worry. they talk a lot about this place.. and you.." suguru begrudgingly admits, "i figured this would cheer them up a bit."

your face immediately blushes at the idea that he already knew about you prior. "hmm, that's very sweet of you... here, take some tonyu with you as well. they usually get a few boxes, but they always switch up the flavors." you tell him, and he's only just now realizing how attentive you've been to them while on their own. he finds himself grateful that they were in good hands. you give him four different flavors of the drinks.

you bag all of the items together and you both find yourself a little bit desperate to spend a bit more time in the other's presences. "say, what time does your shop close?" suguru finds himself speaking before his brain can process what he's doing.

you look up at him with big eyes, almost shocked before you stutter out an answer. "i close in about.. uhh.. 13 minutes." you tell him, not realizing how much time had passed. "why do you ask?"

"any chance you'll let a customer in after close to share some sake with?" he asks next, a sweet grin painting his face as you blush wildly. how had a human woo'd him so easily?

"hmm.. only for the handsome stranger i've heard so much about." you hum to yourself as his shoulders bob a bit though his laughter. "go to your girls, i'll have our drink ready when you get back." you smile warmly, and he thanks you.

not even twenty minutes later you see his silhouette approaching, and you go to unlock the door. as you pull it open, you see a small box in his hands and realize he's brought the taro buns with him.

"i figured we could share these, and i could go ahead and give you my honest review, yeah?" he speaks as he steps inside, stopping just in front of you. his tall frame swallowing you as he leans in and you grow bit flustered. you grin. "ready for that drink?"

[heartfullofleeches]

Cemetery Groundskeeper Creep Reader- Looking for some extra cash and a way to attempt getting over their aversion of the living, creep Reader finds the perfect job for themselves in the papers - nightshifts at the local allegedly haunted cemetery. It's the best thing that's ever happened to them. The clean up is wonderful stress relief from a hectic day, and being surrounded by so many graves wards off the dark parts of their mind.

They spend their days learning all about these people and the gruesome demises few have. They take the general knowledge they've obtained and in the dead of night they talk to the graves as if they're making conversation with neighbors and friends. It's easier to talk to somebody when they can't talk back and you can imagine them as the rotten husks they now are which would be unsettling for some, but makes creep reader feel right at home. The feeling of eyes on them makes them want to claw out their skin, but it's safe to say most of these people don't and that makes them happy.

The spirits and ghouls haunting the yard would die a second and third time be apart of their one-sided conversations. Every other human is so gloomy and sad when they come by, but creep reader walks in with the biggest smile someone like them can muster. Their laughter is so much more comforting than all the tears. Creep Reader starts to find food and teddy bears left for the cemetery's residents in their car. They feel eyes on them, but they're so hollow and empty they don't really care. Sometimes there's a face in the rearview mirror when they head home. Sometimes the crows they feed bring them little treasures and wedding rings. Whenever they have to miss a day because they're sick they always notice disturbed dirt near few of the graves like someone had been clawing at the soil with their hands. The statue they finally managed to scrape all that gum off has moved slightly as well, and the tears running down its stone cheeks have dried. They never play too much mind and go about their night cleaning and talking to everyone they've met so far. Maybe someday, if they listened close enough, they'll realize they've always received a reply.

[girliism]

arts mistress this patrick’s mistress that. what about tashi’s mistress???

what about the pretty girl she keeps up in a nice apartment. paying her bills and college tuition. tashi didn’t mean for it to go so far when she saw you at the bar.

you were there trying to clear your head after a long day at work when you saw tashi out the corner of your eye. she was drinking a glass of wine you were on your third shot. she brought you to an expensive hotel when most guys would have settled for fucking you in the alley.

every saturday you would meet her at that same bar then she’s take you to that same expensive hotel and make you cum all night.

that was months ago now you get to have her at her house when art’s away golfing with his friends and lily’s at her friends.

tashi always smelled good and she tasted even better. you could spend the rest of your days like this. in tashi’s huge bed your head between her thighs licking eagerly at her pussy tashi’s hands tugging on your hair as she makes the prettiest sounds. “so good baby.” she grinding into your face chasing her high.

you always let tashi be on top when scissoring cause she so good at it and cause she likes taking care of you. she’s moving her hips working her clit over yours and it’s got you whining and moaning like a whore. you cum with her fingers in her mouth swirling your tongue around them.

the two of you lay together for awhile lazily kissing before she’s checking the time. “you’ve got to go arts gonna be home soon with lily.”

art donaldson. her husband who you hate. yet you cyberstalk him constantly watching interview after interview match after match trying to see what tashi saw and still sees in him. i’d be so much better to her. you think.

your life was pretty good. your college tuition being taken care of your boss finally treating you better. and tashi. you’ve never loved anyone more than you love tashi. that’s why it hurt so bad when she came back from new rochelle with news.

“i wanna focus more on my marriage with art.” what. she’s sitting next to you explaining how she can’t see you anymore but you can keep the apartment and she’ll still pay your tuition. “but i thought you loved me.” you whisper. she grabs your face with her soft hands pulling you to face her. “of course i love you, you know that. but you also know this couldn’t last forever. you’re so young and i have a family a commit. i’m sorry.”

you spend one last night together but you wake up naked and alone.

you get super depressed after that becoming almost zombie like. ignoring friends never leaving your house except for work and school. how could she just leave me like that.

you knew how.

you’re at the park one day sitting on a bench when you see art. he’s getting ice cream with lily. if only he were out of way you could have tashi and lily. the three of you a perfect family.

it’s so tragic when lily’s nanny takes a really bad tumble down the stairs one day and the donaldsons have no one to watch their daughter.

you accidentally bump into art and lily at the bakery one day. you tell him what a cute daughter he has and he tells you how him and his wife recently lost their nanny. “she tripped and broke her neck. she’ll be ok but she won’t be able to watch lily for awhile if ever.”

“what a shame.” you pout faking your remorse before jumping to tell him how you use to babysit all the time and could use some extra cash. he says he’ll have to run it by his wife.

tashi ok’s it. so you show up at the big mansion you’ve been to hundreds of times for your test day with lily.

when tashi opens the door her heart drops. she hasn’t seen you in months and now you’re here to see if you’re a good fit to nanny her daughter. you’ve got an innocent smile pasted on your face as you introduced yourself to her and reintroduced yourself to art.

you and lily get along great as tashi and art watch from the kitchen. “so do you like her?” “what.” tashi is all jumpy and arts gives her a weird look. “do like her for lily? looks like she could be a good fit.” before tashi could answer you walk over asking where the bathroom is. “i’ll show her.” tashi insist.

tashi’s arm is brushing against yours as she walks next to you. butterflies erupt in your stomach. you’ve missed her so much. “what the hell do you think you’re doing.” tashi corners you. “what do you mean? i’m here for lily. your husband said she need a new nanny i wanted to help.” “cut the bullshit. i told you it was over. i want you say you changed your mind. that you don’t want the job anymore.” how can she talk to you this way when all you’ve ever done is love her?

you soft face hardens as you stand up straighter. “i can’t do that tash. cause then i’ll be forced to tell art about everything and ruin your marriage.” she squints her eyes at you. “i only did this is to show that we can still be together while you’re with him. i just i love you so much tash.” you smash your lips on to hers holding her face so she can’t move away.

like muscle memory tashi immediately starts kissing you back, hand holding your waist. your lips and tongues getting reacquainted after so much time apart. “this can’t happen.” tashi whispers against your mouth but makes no moves to stop.

your hand starts to slide into her pants when she rips away from you. “go to the bathroom and when you come out tell art you don’t think will work out.” with that’s she walks away from you leaving again.

you stand there for a moment before collecting yourself and going back into the main room.

“so, lily likes you a lot and from what we can see you’re really great with her it’s just a matter of do you still want the job.” art says to you while he and tashi lead you to the door as the end has ended. tashi gives you a look but you ignore it. smiling all big bright you say back. “of course i still want the job lily us amazing i can’t want become apart of this family.” your eyes flick over to tashi she does not look happy.

“great that’s great! isn’t it tash.” tashi just nods her head eyes never leaving your. what is your game here? “we’ll email you the schedule you can start on monday.” art smiles kindly at you. “oh thank you so much you won’t regret this.” you throw yourself into his arms nuzzling your face into his neck looking tashi dead in the eye. maybe i can get to her through her idiot husband.

they wish you good night as you walk to the car but you don’t leave. you sit in your car watching the house as the lights turn off one by one for the night.

(this was originally supposed to be cute and fun but who’s wants that when you can have obsessed mistress reader trying to single white female art. 😁)

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart ⭐ (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You got hired at mega retailer, Devil-Mart⭐. Naturally, the guys "suddenly" need a job too and start working alongside you.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Bonus Dia and Barb

»Tags: Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral Reader/MC

»Notes: How about shopping with them?-> [Devil-Mart: Shopping]

Lucifer:

"...Mammon put us in debt this month."

Was worried you'd be bullied (or eaten) surrounded by demons/other monsters

Is that coworker who acts like a boss

Actually does make it to management within the first week

The customer isn't always right. He's the manager to call for rude customers

Actually likes stocking, finds neat aisles soothing

The home improvement dept is his favorite

Frequently makes sure you take all your breaks

Doubles as store security if needed

Mammon:

"I just needed extra cash alright?"

Was worried you'd fall for some other demon

Failed in all departments except online orders (he's very fast!)

Bags for orders would occasionally go missing

Took extra long breaks but Lucifer caught on and wrote him up

Would try to frequently visit you in your department

Started fights with other workers who were busier staring at you than their work

"They're not meat, beat it!"

Got fired for trying to steal electronics

Levi:

"Theres a lot of new merch releases coming up soon!"

Didn't want to be the only one left out so he applied...plus you won't see him anymore!

Electronics department ONLY

You won't find him cross trained anywhere else, he refuses

Is actually really good with upselling

Can be aggressive if you don't go with his recommendations

Has received a few complaints for that reason

Tries to match his breaks with you since that's the only time he really gets to see you

Was the one who tattled on Mammon

Satan:

"This is for research."

A lie he almost believes but knows he just wants to be near you

Works the same department as you so you see each other all day

Never put him on registers or customer service

Almost got into a fight on the first day

Retail is rough for him but he does it for you

Complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Asmo:

"Ugh...a job!? I'm gonna cry. Oh but my fans would love if I relate to them! And your job will be fun with me there!"

Upfront about his reason lol

Refused to do anything except customer service

Just stands back and talks to customers while the coworker alongside him completes any transactions

Makes DevilToks on the clock

Frequently leaves his spot to talk to you and Satan

Gets all the work gossip

Lucifer never catches on

"You know, this isn't so bad! I'm such a good worker right!?"

Gets employee of the month

Beel:

"I don't like the thought of you surrounded by demons alone. This isn't RAD."

Aalajffkslsjda the cutest honest protector

Is cross trained everywhere but

Never put him near grocery ever again

Likes to work with you if he gets the chance

Usually works in the backroom unloading and back stocking things

Has a doctors note that let's him take frequent breaks for eating

His favorite department overall is security because Lucifer gives him extra treats if he prevents high valued thefts

Belphie:

"I'm here because I have things I would like to have."

Is there an extra meaning to that?

Works in the back with Beel usually

Takes frequent naps in hidden areas of the backroom

Pretends to look busy if Lucifer is around

Also complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Fights with Levi on your breaks because he also wants to spend time with you when he can

Is the reason some coworkers don't approach you

He makes it known to not fuck with you

Diavolo heard you started a new job alongside the brothers! He goes to visit with Barbatos in tow.

Diavolo:

"Can I get a little help here?"

Flirts with you while on the clock. He thinks the red vest on you is cute!

Was wowed by the store in general

(Normally Barbatos does the shopping alone)

Liked sampling the food that was around the store

Was tempted to apply but Barbatos shut it down

Took a photo of Lucifer in his manager clothes

Barbatos:

"Seeing you here will make my shopping trips more enjoyable."

Praises your work

Did have to go to customer service to complain and ran into Asmo

Didn't believe Asmo was gonna clean the restrooms but at least the complaint was taken

Takes a survey and compliments you

Has to fight Dia to get him off the racecar cart

"It's for parents with children my lord."

Returns the cart to the cart corral like an upstanding citizen

My first bulleted story post lol. I had fun with this & hope to make more in the future. <3

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱You ARE The Father

[ashwhowrites]

so I was wondering if you could do a story where Robin has been spending less time with her girlfriend ever since she got her license and so she thinks reader is cheating on her since she got a car and could go where ever she wanted so one day to get her out of her slump Steve takes her to see a street racing competition and who does she sees their? Reader kicking ass and ignoring every girl and boy who flirted with her and immediately goes to kiss Robin the second she sees her. So she’s definitely not cheating and reader explained that the reason they where here more was because of the extra money she could make to buy Robin a gift 🥺

(kinda like angst to fluff and maybe smut at the end idk)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 there isn't any smut, I'm sorry

Racer

Robin knew never learning how to drive would come back to bite her in the ass. She cursed herself for never learning or even attempting. She enjoyed Stevedriving her around, getting to be the passenger DJ and shout orders.

Ever since her girlfriend Y/N got a license, she has barely seen her. She was constantly driving off and never seemed to be home when Robin called. The random act of disappearance ate away at Robin's brain. She felt like her skin was constantly itchy as she felt uncomfortable in her clothes.

Something was going on and Robin had a horrible gut feeling about what it was. Someone was taking up all of her girlfriend's time, putting her in a slump.

Steve felt worried for his friend and wanted to do something to get her out of the house. He didn't want to believe Y/N was cheating, but Robin made a good argument. Still, Steve demanded she got fresh air.

Robin sighed as Steve's car came to a stop, she took in her surroundings.

"Is this a race track?" She asked, truthfully she had never been to one or thought of going to one. But now that she was here, and could hear the screams of fans she was intrigued.

"Yep, so let's watch some racing and get your mind off her." Steve smiled, hopping out of his car and Robin followed.

They walked down the bleachers, heading for the front spot near the fence. The cars were loud and the smoke filled Robin's nose. She wasn't sure if this was legal, but she was amazed by all the different kinds of cars and people.

She looked to her left and felt her eyes widen, she elbowed Steve repeatedly until he finally looked.

"Holy shit, is that Y/N?" Steve asked, he quickly checked her out before Robin noticed. Y/N was in jean shorts and a tank top, gloves on her hands as she leaned against her new car. She was talking to someone, and feeling eyes on her she looked over.

Robin couldn't help but smile at the reaction Y/N had seeing her. Y/N was quick to end the conversation, with a big smile as she waved. Robin waved back, stunned by how hot her girlfriend looked and wondering why she was here.

Robin kept her eyes on her as Y/N walked over to them, ignoring every boy who tried to walk up to talk to her. Robin could hear the whistles and cat calls, but Y/N ignored them.

"Rob!" Y/N cheered, throwing her arms around Robin and pulling her into a kiss

Robin slowly kissed back, her head still spinning from the wild events.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked when she pulled away, Steve stood a few feet back to give them privacy.

"A little side job to make some extra cash. I've been winning races like crazy, and saving every dime for your birthday. What are you doing here?" Y/N asked her arms still around Robin's neck.

"That is so sweet," Robin cooed, feeling extremely guilty for thinking she was cheating. "I uh...Steve wanted to get me out of the house and brought me here." Robin explained

"Well, I'm glad you are here. Let me show you around." Y/N smiled, she removed her arms, instead slipping her hand in Robin's. "Steve, you are welcome to join."

"That's alright. You girls have fun" Steve winked, walking to find a seat.

"So...my girlfriend is a street racer?" Robin asked, a real smile appearing on her face. She nudged her shoulder against Y/N's as they walked towards the track

[mochatsin]

MC GIVING GIFTS FOR THE BROTHERS

You’ve been racking up quite a ton of grimm with all the part time jobs you’ve worked in. You decided maybe you can go a bit off budget for once and spoil one of the brothers as a token of appreciation.

we stan a self-sufficient MC in this household. Just imagine your MC working in Akuber and other jobs earning that sweet grimm.

------------

Lucifer

The seemingly endless amounts of paperwork that Diavolo has been leaving on his desk gave him quite the headache. He dreads going to his office every time, expecting to find another stack of student complaints and reports about his brother’s behavior. 

Surprisingly though, he finds a bottle tied with a ribbon on his desk. But when he picked up and read the label, his eyes went wide to see it’s one of the finest brands of Demonus. 

He knows his brothers well enough to cross them off the list of people to buy him this. Even if this was a prank from Satan or Belphie, the price tag is way too expensive for the both of them to even consider this. Perhaps it's the young prince then? 

After closer inspection, he does find a small card for him and he immediately knows it's from you. ‘I bought this bottle for you since you’ve been working so hard. Take a break okay? — MC’ 

It’s the little sheep doodle at the end of the card that made him chuckle. It’s adorable, he thought to himself. He smiles before taking out his D.D.D. to call you. 

“I found the bottle you left at my desk earlier today MC. You know you didn’t have to get me something so grand. I know buying this wasn’t easy.”

You explain that you bought it as thanks for all the times he got you out of the trouble the brothers would drag you in, and for making your stay in Devildom as comfortable as he can provide. 

It’s not often he receives a token of gratitude from anyone in the house. For someone to be grateful for all the work he’s done, especially when it’s coming from you, he’s touched and speechless at the gesture. 

You’ve been waiting for what seems to be a solid minute of pure silence. “Lucifer? Are you still there?” You asked, before you heard a light laugh from the other end. 

“Well… enjoying this bottle all by myself seems rather lonesome don’t you think? After work, come to my room. Let’s have a drink together, just the two of us.”

Mammon

The poor guy has been trying to rack up all the grimm he can get but it’s as if lady luck decides to turn a blind eye. The stock market dropped today and now Lucifer confiscated Goldi because of his failing marks in class. 

He’s been pretty much sulking all day. You try to cheer him up by hyping him for his next modeling gig. At least by then he’ll get some spending money right? But it doesn’t feel so comforting when you’re saying that over chat. 

You’ve been busy getting some work done in your part time jobs, which means he gets to have less time with you. Making him extra sulky. You promised to drop by his room to give him a small treat once you get home, so at least that might lift his spirits.

He was expecting maybe a free snack, since you work in Akuber after all. What he did not expect was finding you on his doorstep with a paper bag labeled ‘Evil Devitton’ and no way did you actually go there? 

He remembered the other day that he was complaining about how didn’t have any cash when the brand released a new watch. You have a little extra grimm to at least buy him this, but this is for all the times he’s helped you in Devildom (and kept you alive) since you’re ‘his first.’ 

You watched him stumble on his words and stutter, trying to think of what to say. 

“T-THE GREAT MAMMON ACCEPTS YOUR TRIBUTE!” He tries to act all cool about it. You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. So he grumbles before letting out a soft “thank you” which makes you smile. 

You scold him though every time he’d ask for treats or gifts, since he seems to be forgetting that the watch came from all your extra hard work. You don’t want to keep enabling his bad habits after all. 

But you know that he cherishes your gifts. You found him flaunting the watch you gave him on one of his photoshoots from his latest magazine gig. 

Levi

He’s been trying his hand at this market raffle. First prize gets a limited raffle-exclusive figurine of one of his favorite characters from this new series, a sales tactic to make people buy the store’s products for one entry. 

Last you’ve heard from Levi, his luck (and his allowance) ran out from buying all he can for entry tickets, only to draw the wrong prizes. 

He’s even begged for the brothers to buy from the store for a ticket or lend him some money so he can try again. A behavior that’s modeling his older brother. This catches Lucifer’s attention and he makes Levi put a stop to his shenanigans or he’ll do something about his Akuzon account. 

Levi has been ranting to your chat while you were out finishing your shift. On the way home you decided to try your luck from that market raffle and behold, you won the first prize item. You know this means more to Levi so you went straight to his door. 

The moment he opened, he immediately complained to you when it was announced that someone won the first prize raffle. “It’s just unfair! What if it was just some normie who won it?! Or someone unfamiliar with the franchise?! They’re never gonna appreciate the figurine!!”

When you finally showed him that you won the figurine, he would be excited (and jealous of your luck) because even if it’s not his, at least he gets to admire the figurine in your room. 

He only stopped talking when you were handing it over to him, saying that he should keep it since he wants it more than you do. Eyes? Wide open. Jaw? Dropped. 

“EH?! WHY WOULD YOU GIVE ME SOMETHING SO PRECIOUS?! I'M JUST A USELESS OTAKU AND-“ he would go on but you insisted.

It’s thanks for introducing you to some of your shows that became your favorites, as well as being your gaming buddy. 

Levi.exe has stopped working. 

The next day, you find the figurine you gave him on the best spot on his shelf collection. 

Satan

Whenever you two would visit the library, he would always borrow the same book about magical spells. It covers 400 years worth of knowledge, so it was so thick that he can’t finish it in one sitting like he normally does. 

He expressed that he wished he could add that book to his ever growing collection in his room, but he can’t exactly afford the cost for the book. Not to mention that he’s way too busy with other important affairs (feeding cats) to try to earn for it.

He went home late since there was a lot of work to be done at the council, and the dead hours of night won’t ever stop him from going to his usual spot to play with the stray cats. 

He walks back up to his room only to find a big book resting on the foot of his door. Even a few feet away, he recognized the leather with gold imprinted designs and rushed towards it. 

He can’t believe the book of magical spells was at his door! How did it even get here? He sends a message to the House of Lamentation group chat to ask. 

Satan: Someone left the Index of Magical Spells at my door. Do any of you know who did?

Asmo: ohhh is that what MC has been carrying? Watching them lift that heavy book made me feel tired myself. 

Finally getting his answer, he goes straight to your room with the book in hand. You were in the middle of writing your essay for class when he barged in. 

“MC! I’ve heard from Asmo, but did you really buy this for me? This must’ve been so expensive! Not to mention really heavy…”

You explained that since you work part-time often, you’ve saved enough extra money to buy him a small thank you gift for helping you with your homework and pass your tests. It means a lot as a transfer student with little to no knowledge about this world.

“You didn’t really have to, your company is quite the treat itself. But I appreciate this. How about I help you with your essay? After that, maybe we can find some spells here that we can learn together.” 

Asmo

As an Avatar of Lust who gets gifts from fans, he’s often showered with a lot of luxury brands and products. There’s not much you can actually get him when he seems to have everything he could ever want in Devildom. 

You asked permission from Lord Diavolo to grab a few things up in the human world to bring to the House of Lamentation to make your room feel like home. 

When you got back, Asmo was curious to see what you brought with you, so you allowed him to see what you have in your room.

You have your stuffed toy, your own blankets, some more of your casual clothes (that he’d love to mix and match on you soon), and so much more personal belongings but what got him curious is that small bag you have on your desk. 

It’s a little kit with your own skincare products and personal perfume in a small container to bring along. He insists on having a whiff of your perfume and to your surprise, he loves it!

“I can’t believe it! They don’t have these kinds of scents here at Devildom! It’s probably because we don’t have the same ingredients. Ohh I'm so jealous of you right now dear! Maybe one day I can get one of my own!”

You just so happen to bring the actual bottle of perfume with you, so you dug up your luggage and offered to give him the perfume. The bottle has a very intricate design, since the brand was considered fancy in your world. 

At first he was speechless, and you explained that you appreciate the moments he took care of your skin as well as the times he’d help dress you up for any important occasion (since you didn’t have much of a wardrobe when you moved in).

He’ll squeal in delight before giving you the biggest hug “DARLING! You have no idea how much this means to me!!!” 

He’d brag to his brothers about receiving a gift from the human world by his beloved MC. Lucifer had to stop them when they also wanted to ask for gifts from you as well, saving you from the brothers trying to raid your room.

Beel

Beel has been studying hard lately since his grades haven’t been doing so well. Compared to Mammon’s, he’d say his grades are fine but if he doesn’t do better in his next test then Lucifer isn’t gonna lift the curse on the fridge that’s preventing him from getting his midnight snacks. 

It’s difficult for him when his hunger preoccupies his mind way too often to focus. Sometimes he’d eat his homework when he can’t handle it anymore, and that’s not a good excuse against Lucifer.

There was a soft knock on his door and when he opened it, he found you holding two big bag of chips in your arms. They were so massive he barely saw your head when you carried it. 

You told him that while you were out, you managed to buy a couple bags of chips, cheese puffs, and sweets that you stored in your room. You offered to sneak him a couple snacks for him, as long as he promises not to tell Lucifer about your secret stash. 

“MC, you’re an absolute lifesaver right now” he says as he grabs a bag and starts snacking down on it. It was gone in 5 minutes, but it helped bring him back to focus. 

You ask if he needs any help but he tries to refuse “you’ve already done so much for me though MC… you don’t have to teach me” 

You insisted. Beel was the one who helped introduce you to some Devildom dishes that were safe for humans to consume, and he’s the one that reminds you to eat if you ever forget. Helping him by giving him your snacks is a small token of your appreciation. 

For a few nights, Beel would chat if you’re free and you’d go visit his room with a few snacks while you help him go over the lessons. 

With your help, he did a lot better at his tests much to Lucifer’s surprise. 

Belphie

Belphie was beyond angry right now. He was trying to take a nap in the garden, and he found a perfect spot to remain undisturbed. 

Mammon, under Lucifer’s punishment, was in charge of gardening duty. He didn’t know about his baby brother sleeping in the bushes when he turned on the sprinklers. Now Belphie was awake, drenched, and furious. 

His favorite cow pillow had to be dried out, as well as some of his clothes that got soaked. 

You heard about everything through Beel, he was worried about Belphie not getting enough sleep because he lost his pillow and has nothing to cuddle with. So when you got home, you made a quick stop at this nearby shop to buy him a little present. 

Belphie was struggling to get some proper shut eye, not after Mammon ruined his afternoon nap and getting scolded by Lucifer when they ended up fighting and ruined the garden. 

He felt something soft press against him and when he fluttered his eyes, he saw that you were holding this big cow stuffed toy with you. 

You apologized for waking him. He asks what that’s for and you explain that heard what happened to his pillow. Beel told you about how much he wanted it, so you went ahead and got it for him. 

It was your gift, since Belphie was always the one to remind you to rest. He would be the first to see the signs that you haven’t been getting enough sleep, so he would always remind you or even nap with you. 

He has this soft smile on his face when he hugs the stuffed toy. It was so soft, just as he imagined it would be when he first saw it on display. 

“MC… thanks. I hope that I’ll get to dream of you while hugging this… actually, come here. Let’s take a nap together, you’ve been working so hard lately. You need to rest.” 

Belphie was able to peacefully sleep with the cow stuffed toy in his arms, resting with a smile on his face.  

------------ OKAY THE COINCIDENCE??? IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE BC as I was writing this I was actually stumped on what MC can give Mammon THEN I GET A CHAT ABOUT THE WATCH THAT HE WANTS!?!?

[upsidedownwithsteve]

dad!Eddie Munson x fem!reader [917 words]

Living in a trailer whilst pregnant wasn’t exactly what you had planned out. Living in a trailer whilst pregnant and having your boyfriends uncle as a roommate wasn’t all that great either.

But then again, having a baby at twenty three hadn’t really been all that high on your to do list. But condoms split, conversations were had in Eddie’s arms under bed sheets and life got a little more exciting. 

You weren’t far off from being able to afford a place of your own, a little apartment that you and Eddie could call home. A space for a crib, a little room for Eddie’s guitars to hang, your desk and books underneath. And until then, Wayne tried his best to help in every and all ways, bringing home pregnancy books that Janet, the garage’s secretary gave him to loan to you, helping Eddie save up some more cash by giving him extra shifts. 

You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but you liked it best when Wayne took off for a day or two, spending his weekends out of town on fishing trips with his old college buddies, four of them leaving in the truck with their lines, two tents and a cooler full of beer. 

Those were the days you knew you could come home from work and really relax, the less clothing the better, ‘cause as the weeks went on your stomach grew, going from pudgy to hard, faint lines stretching over your skin as if to say, ‘look! Look at what I’m making!”

And as incredible as that was, your jeans didn’t really fit anymore. 

You were only around two months, almost two and a half, but the whole job of growing a little human inside of you whilst you also worked your actual job was starting to take its toll. Your feet ached, your muscles hurt and you spent the best part of the morning eyeing the bathroom door, wondering if your breakfast was going to be rejected by what you assumed was going to be your very fussy child. 

So by six o’clock, you were walking through the door and you wanted to cry at how the whole trailer smelled like lavender and honey, the sound of the bath tap bubbling into the tub. 

Eddie appeared at the sound of the door opening and closing, head poking out of the bathroom and grinning at your watery eyes. 

“Baby,” he greeted, knowing how to read you. “Baby.”

“You’re running me a bath?” You sniffed, eyes wide and lips pouting. You were very happy about that, Eddie knew, despite the way your voice wavered. “And you tidied the kitchen?” 

You almost hiccuped. The boy was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that it would only set you off even more, pregnancy making you emotionally susceptible to kind gestures and light teasing. 

Eddie called you his little minefield. 

“There’s even a little somethin’ for you in the fridge,” the boy hummed, greeting you properly by cupping your warm cheeks in his hands, squishing them fondly before dropping a kiss to your lips. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“M&M’s?” You asked softly. 

“The biggest bag I could find,” Eddie answered. But he was coaxing you past the fridge and towards the bathroom, where sweet smelling steam was melting out of the door. “But first, your bath, princess.”

Bubbles and foam almost overflowed the tub, sweet smelling and making the air warm. Eddie whistled as you stripped, grinning when you flushed and tried to frown, holding your outstretched hand to help you in. 

“You don’t need to butter me up, Eddie,” you said mournfully as you sank into the hot water, sighing at the way it nipped a little, wrestling out the knots in your back. “I look like someone stuck a bike pump in me.”

You were exaggerating, you knew that. You were nowhere near as big as you knew you were going to get, but your ankles were swollen and your tummy felt tighter than it did last week, your belly button sticking out for the first time ever. 

The boy tutted, moving to sit on the tiles by the tub, an arm dropping into the suds to find a leg. His fingers curled around your calf, soft and affectionate as he traced lines along the tired muscles there. 

“Don’t make me argue with a pregnant lady,” he commented mildly, “you’re fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty, pretty girl.”

You sunk a little further into the bubbles, eyes turning softer at his words. Eddie was gazing down at you, brown eyes doting. 

“You spoil me,” you told him and he could hear the thanks there, the sweetness, the sincerity. 

The tap dripped, some bubbles fizzed and Eddie hummed, a low soft laugh. 

“You’re carrying my hellspawn, baby,” he told you, his palm soothing it’s way up your leg. He found the dough of your inner thigh and squeezed, hand moving upupup until it cupped the swell of your belly. “Runnin’ you a bath is the least I could do.”

You snorted, foamy bubbles blowing into the air at your huff. “S’not a hellspawn.”

Eddie’s brows rose into his curls, a smile stretching prettily over his face. He looked at you disbelievingly. “No?” He mused. “I’ll be sure to remember that when little Beelzebub is kicking your bladder at four am.”

You pouted, hand reaching out to poke at the boy’s chin, smiling when he pretended to bite at your finger. 

“Fine,” you relented. “They’re not a hellspawn, right now. They do want M&M’s though.”

[brotherwtf]

i’m back bestie!

everyone hcs clegan living in wyo (get them outta here i feel like i’m going to walk down the street and see them)

could you give us some living in manitowac hcs please

i’m picturing gale being surrounded by john’s mom and sisters and all their love (they’re just as loud and goofy as john) he’s never felt more at home in his life and knows that he has found his new family 😭

even more domestic clegan hcs, you spoil me so much

I feel like John has a twin sister (shes fifteen minutes older, she never lets him forget that) AND an older sister (four years older), that's why he turned out so mouthy and acting like a little shit, the girls bullied him to all hell when he was younger

When Gale meets them, he instantly likes them. They're just like Bucky, cocky and so sure of themselves, and they love so openly and with no judgement that Gale almost cries when they both give him an enthusiastic hug

John's mother is the same way, just a little quieter. She has a smile that brightens up the room just like Johns, and Gale feels safe in her gaze

She helps him with his daddy issues (tm) and is always willing to talk to Gale, even in the middle of the night when he's awoken by nightmares

John's sisters joke that if John doesn't marry Gale that they will; which results in a full blown argument over which of the three Gale gets to wed, which leaves Gale's cheeks hurting from smiling so much

John takes Gale to Lake Michigan and flirts with him endlessly, wolf whistling when Gale takes his shirt off and crawling on top of Gale sopping wet and planting sloppy kisses on his face even when Gale whines in protest

When evening approaches they watch the sun set over the lake, and John can't help but think how much the water is the same color as Gale's eyes

They purchase a lakeside property, one with land so that Gale can keep animals and with a whole garage for Johns various projects

Gale starts to board animals on their property to earn them some extra cash, and John teaches rowing lessons on the lake (boys in the boat, anyone?)

John's family visits every week (Gale always invites them) and his sisters playfully gag about how domestic they have gotten

John pops the question at the lakeside where they spend so many of their days, and Gale cries into John's arms, sobbing while trying to say yes

John's family puts on a front of being all tough and serious, but cry until their faces are red and puffy at their wedding, John's sisters joke at the reception that it was only because Gale picked the worst choice out of the three of them to marry (they are so proud of John)

Gale gets pulled around by all of the Egan children at the reception afterwards, all fighting over who gets to dance with Gale (even John has to fight, even though Gale married him). He eventually dances with John's mom, which makes the sister fume playfully and John teasing Gale about it

The wedding is held at a lake house, the reception on the shore of the lake, and John takes Gale out to the edge of the water (when he finally steals him back from his mother) and slow dances with him, twirling him and holding him close now that he is finally his

GAHH keep the hcs coming bestie I'm loving it

lmk if y'all have any more hcs for Manitowoc clegan, I love writing about their domesticity

[bangaveragewhitewine]

maybe it ain't so bad

Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader (established relationship) - Part of Happy Hours

Your boyfriend doesn’t like Christmas much. Inside his huge soft heart, he carries the memories of Christmases good and bad. After this year, the first Christmas you will actually get to spend together, he might feel a little warmer towards the Holidays…

Word Count 4.4k

Contents / Warnings | 18+ | Eddie & Reader are in their mid/late twenties | Loss of a parent, mention of child neglect and abuse | No explicit sex, nonetheless this is an 18+ fic - making out on the sofa, brief choking mention, Eddie’s love of hickies, being horny and in love, mentions of sex and post-sex softness, ‘slut’ as a term of endearment | No physical descriptions of reader; the image used in the header is not indicative of Bartender Reader in this series

Note I missed our metalhead bouncer boyfriend. I tried and tried not to make this sad or angsty. A quick moment to say thank you for all the love over the last sixish months while I have been writing and sharing my work. It’s a joy, truly! Have a cosy holiday season, sweet angels!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Christmas, 1992 

Eddie Munson didn’t care for Christmas.

A long time had passed since the last Christmas with his Mom, but each year the scabbed-over wound inside him tore and stung and bled just a little more around the Holidays. 

It might be more accurate to say then that Eddie Munson did not let himself care for Christmas. It hurt him to care about it, to remember the good ones and the bad ones with his mother, so he tried to just not care. 

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the coloured string lights wound around the shitty plastic tree, glinting against baubles that had seen better days. He could feel her hands holding his much smaller ones as they danced together to Christmas records, the way she held him safe and steady to place the star on top of the tree. The shininess of it all had pulled his attention from her pilled and threadbare sweaters and the bruise-like bags beneath her eyes. The festive earworms drowned out her tearful phone calls to her parents for some extra cash to make sure Eddie would have a present from Santa beneath the tree this year, and her promises that her no-good-husband would see a penny of it.

As he watches you hanging shiny-and-new decorations on the branches of the small fir in the corner of your shared living room, humming to music only you could hear, he could not help but think of her. It hurt, but the smile that spread across your face when you caught him watching soothed his soul just a little bit.

“Hi, handsome.” 

Your voice and that cosy greeting, the eye-sparkling smile you wear when he comes home to you, feels like stepping into a warm bath every single time. It’s a hug before you even open your arms to him.

You watch him unwind his scarf and shake out his frosted curls once his jacket has been hung on its peg. His boots are slipped off and left to pick up later. 

“How’d it go?”

Eddie stares at the shiny ornament hanging between your fingers on gold thread, lost somewhere in his head or hypnotised by the way it caught the light until you call his name again. 

“Sorry, yeah. Went good. You’ve been busy…”

While Eddie was teaching his last guitar lesson before the Holidays, you had draped the tree with shiny bright lights and made a start on the baubles, hanging them extra-slowly in the hope that your boyfriend might want to help when he got home. Neither of you had work tonight, scheduled off synchronously as a little reward for working Christmas Eve.

“You wanna help?” you ask, a glimmer of hope in your eyes, even as you readied yourself for rejection.

You knew his feelings about Christmas - not just his capitalist hellscape rant that came out whenever someone asked if he was looking forward to the holidays, but you knew the deep emotional pain he carried as another year passed without her. Every year the taste of her cinnamon-spiced sugar cookies and the scent of her perfume, that special Mom Smell, faded more in his memories.

For the first Christmas you would actually spend together as a couple, you wanted it to be special and cosy. You wanted Eddie to feel comfortable and safe, not like a prisoner bound in tinsel as you forced him to watch Miracle on 34th Street or How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (though he did have a soft spot for the green guy). A lazy few days cocooned in your apartment, a nice no-fuss dinner and quality time together. It helped too that you could pick up the Christmas Eve shift in the bar instead of travelling out of the state to sit at home with your families and miss each other, count the days until you hopped back on the plane to O’Hare, and pray that Eddie would drive safe on the icy roads around Hawkins. 

The decorations had been a compromise; Eddie never usually bothered and you liked to spend at least half a day making your home look like a festive explosion. A deal had been made on a small tree with a few lights.

You looked at that tree now, its small and slightly wonky stature had charmed you. Eddie’s staring at it too and you can see a glimpse of the broken boy Eddie once was; it makes your heart hurt. 

“Is it too much? I can stop…” Your voice is quiet.

Eddie shakes his head and plasters on a smile for you that makes your chest ache, before rounding the sofa on socked feet to press a kiss to your head and squeeze you around the middle.

His nose is cold from being outside. That fresh scent of bright winter air clings to him and slowly melts away inside the warm flat you share. 

“Looks great.” Eddie picks up a random red bauble. “Where does this one go?”

“Wherever you want it to go. Just look for the bare spots.” 

You tamp down any fizzing excitement that he’s taking an interest, then feel guilty that you are thinking of him like he’s a wild animal who is easily spooked. 

Eddie brings you back to reality, just like always.

“You gonna move it later when I’m not looking?” he asks, brows raising beneath his bangs as you loop your ornament on a branch. 

That ‘I know you too well for your cute lies, babe’ look he gave you made your cheeks feel warm. It was close to his ‘you’re pushin’ it and you’re being a brat on purpose’ look. That one was fun.

“Only if it’s too close to another red.”

He had seen you and Michelle in full-festive-flight when you decorated the bar every year; every year he braved the cold of the beer cellar or the back alley to stay well out of your way lest he be roped into a squabble on the placement of some stupid garland. 

Not fully convinced, Eddie zeroes in a bare spot (not too near to another red ball) and slips it over the branch with less practiced precision. It’s perfect.

You lean over to smack a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek. “You’re a natural, Teddy.” 

His arm slips and winds around your waist, squeezing the squish of your hips before he presses his lips to your head. “Do I get a reward?” 

Eddie’s touch and the low timbre of his voice stoke the cosy glow in your body into something more fiery and exciting. His fingers skate along the waistband of your sweatpants, tracing up beneath your (his) hoodie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Two can play that game.

“For one little bauble? I’m not that easy, Munson.” 

It pains you to pull yourself away but the warmth and hunger in his gaze feeds your ego and the flame in your gut. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I need you to show me.” His fingers reach out to grab the empty space between you. 

Your eyes roll as you crouch to pick up two more baubles.

“Gimme a kiss for every decoration I put on then?” Eddie suggested, “I’ll keep tally.”

A slow smile makes its way onto your face and you nod. “That could be arranged. Don’t half-ass it though, they’ll fall off if they’re not on properly.” Your eyes narrow in warning, “I’ll bite you instead of kiss you if you half-ass it.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, honey,” Eddie smirks and takes both baubles from you - one gold, one pink - and hangs them on his fingers, strategically dangling them right over his nipples. He gets the exact reaction he was hoping for - an eye-roll and that smile you do when you try not to laugh at his silliness. That smile that had made him fall for you.

“And you know my motto - full ass or no ass at all. No half-assin’ around here.” 

Before you can make a smart comment about his flat ass, Eddie takes his time to thoughtfully hang the ornaments in two bare spots and surveys his work with a quietly-pleased hum. You could imagine what he was like as a kid, bargaining for an extra cookie once the tree was decorated, or an extra bedtime story. You didn’t hang any more decorations in favour of watching him work for a few moments, the colourful glow of the lights on his pale skin. 

He catches you staring and softens, winks at you as he picks two more baubles up. One for you, one for him. 

After passing the gold string between your fingers, you press a bonus-kiss to Eddie’s lips before finishing off your first tree together. Neither of you acknowledges with words how special it is, but it’s there. You squabble playfully when you get in each other’s way or when Eddie slaps your ass while he’s reaching for the snowman ornament you have had since you were a kid. 

You had accumulated a little collection of retro Christmas decorations in thrift shops over the years - pretty vintage baubles and kitschy ornaments, a few random or weird tchotchkes. A purchase from last year - a glittery skull wearing a Santa hat - earned instant approval from Eddie and pride of place on the tree. That one had caught your eye a few months after you two had started dating.

When the box of ornaments runs out, you take a step back and pull Eddie’s arm to join you. 

“You like it?” Your voice is quiet and careful as your cheek rests against the softness his sweater.

“Pretty,” Eddie says, just as quiet. His arms wind around you and hold you against his chest, starting a slow rock from foot to foot.

“Can I give you something?” you ask, voice muffled against his chest.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, a flirty look in his eyes. “Oh? You can give me whatever you want, babydoll.”

That wolfish grin of his still made you feel tingly all over, even as you rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s for the tree. Cool it, Romeo.” 

You pay this kiss-tax to be freed from the cosiness of his arms and slip into the bedroom for just a second. It is enough time for Eddie to edit a few baubles like it’s second nature to him, swapping out colours that are too close to each other and filling gaps until you arrive with a box. He has forgotten that he used to watch his mother do the same thing while he was content with his oven-warm cookies and cold milk on the couch.

You pass the box to Eddie. “It’s not really a gift. It’s for both of us.”

“Is it lingerie?” His brows raise, hopefully suggestive, as he smooths a finger over the lovingly slapped-on bow. Lingerie has certainly proven itself to be quite the mutual gift over the last year. His mind wanders to that last deep purple set you bought, and he can feel himself starting to drool.

“Eddie, just open it. You’re going to be so disappointed, it’s lame…”

At the talk of lingerie, you are acutely aware that you are currently dressed in sweats and one of his hoodies. In a funny sort of way, you know that the cosy combo does it for Eddie as much as lace and satin. The every-horny-for-your-boyfriend part of your brain considers wrapping yourself up in a big red bow for him. He would like that far too much.

He feigns coolness as he pulls the lid off and you push your unhinged thoughts away.

Inside, wrapped in crinkly red tissue paper, are two things - a matte black bauble with your initials curling together in shiny red calligraphy. Beside it, a small silver frame ornament with a candid snap of Eddie and you from Thanksgiving just passed, the one you spent in Hawkins with Wayne and his girlfriend. You’re perched on his lap, arms looped around his neck, smiling and very clearly obsessed with each other.

“I just thought we could... We could start our own traditions. Little things.” You speak into the quietness of the room as Eddie stares into the box. You murmur to yourself when he doesn’t answer, “You didn’t even want a tree, it’s so stupid.”

“Stop that.” Eddie’s frown is serious. “My girlfriend isn’t stupid. How dare you.” 

“But you don’t even like Christmas… It’s kinda stu-”

“Don’t. It’s fuckin’ thoughtful as fuck.” Eddie smiles softly at the ornaments, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. “You’re too cute, baby.” 

Pressing a smiling kiss to your lips, Eddie could feel himself beginning to soften. Maybe this Christmas thing would not be so bad this year…

Christmas with Wayne was always low-key - some years his Uncle took a shift at the plant and they exchanged thoughtfully practical presents like new guitar strings or picks, a book or an album, novelty mugs and new baseball caps or shirts. 

Wayne was not so fond of Christmas either. It reminded him of his heavy-handed drunk of a father, and the anxiety-inducing unanswered phone calls to his idiot brother’s house after Elizabeth died. It reminded him of finding his nephew alone in a cold house on Christmas Day, without a tree or dinner when Al forgot to come home. The kid didn’t have a single present to open from Santa. 

When Eddie moved to the trailer with him, too wise to the big bad world to be so easily distracted by shiny things, Wayne made sure there was a present for Eddie every single year, a meal and some company - even if the kid didn’t want it, even if Eddie screamed and threw a fit until he sobbed himself silent because he was just a little boy who missed his Mama…

Now, in the cocoon of your home together, Eddie's smile brims with child-like innocence, touched by the weight of wanting to start your own traditions together. You knew you were it for each other, but the little reminder of how much you meant it makes him glow.

He puts the box down and cups your face, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. “God, I’m so in love with you,” he growls like a happy demon, making you laugh. 

Contently trapped against his body, soft and lean in all the right places, you release the breath you had been holding as Eddie studies the contents of the gift box again. 

“Look at these! I need this picture for my wallet. I need like, six copies,” he murmurs, “Have you ever seen a hotter couple?” Eddie brushes his thumb over the velvety loop of ribbon to hang it on the tree. “We need this for our grandkids, baby.” 

“Laurel took it. I’ll get you another copy.” Your face hurts from smiling as he kisses your cheek again. Wayne’s girlfriend was fond of you both, particularly Eddie.

“And this? Fuckin’ gothic as hell, I love it.” He strokes the intertwined initials before putting the box down to hug you just a shade off too tight. Nuzzling your noses together, he asks, “Where are we going to hang ‘em?”

“Front and centre?” you suggested, shrugging a little. “We could move that one…”

“Creepy Santa?”

“Banish him to the back of the tree. Begone, creep.”

Eddie chokes a laugh and muttered, “I love when you say nerdy shit, baby,” before unwinding his arms from around you to banish Creepy Santa.

“My boyfriend is a huge nerd, I can’t help it,” you tease.

After some careful re-arranging, the two new additions take pride of place on your tree. Eddie’s tongue had stuck out in concentration as he balanced them both so carefully; you wished you had your camera to capture the moment, not that you would ever forget it. 

You are wrapped up in his arms again once you agree on the placement, nose to nose as Eddie tells you how much he loves you again. The little noise he makes when you slip your hands into his back pockets hits low in your gut.

“You saving those kisses you earned or cashing them in, hot stuff?” you ask, tracing his jaw with the tip of your nose.

Eddie’s teeth flash in the low light; the room is shadowy and warm in the glow of string lights and a dim lamp in the corner. 

“Oh, I’m saving them up, princess. Might claim one or two right now, but the rest are staying with me. Got a pocketful of IOUs for kisses.”

You press your face against his shoulder, smiling. “That’s so ominous, Teddy.” 

“Next time you’re mad at me? Kiss token. When you’re too busy with stupid chores to take my human right to be kissed seriously? Pucker the fuck up, pretty girl.” 

You love him all ways, but especially like this; playful and fun, flirting hard with you. Eddie’s using his voice in a way you know comes from years of playing DnD, and a stint in the drama club at school. He’s in-your-face-flirty, never subtle. This is the man who punched someone for you before you were even dating; there’s nothing subtle about Eddie Munson. 

No, there’s absolutely nothing subtle about Eddie as his hips press forward against yours and he directs your mouth to his, cashing in the first of those kisses. He smiles when you chase him for more. You pull him closer, your hands on that flat ass of his, and sigh when his tongue licks across your bottom lip. 

“That’s one,” he whispers. 

He cups your warm cheek, his pinky stroking your pulse point. He can feel your blood pump quicker when his breath breezes over your mouth, like the hard beating of butterfly wings that he feels too. Eddie likes how they have not gone away yet for either of you; over a year together and no sign of migration. He hopes they never leave.

“M’not counting. Just kiss me,” you whisper, a little whiney and needier than you had realised now that you are pressed up against him with nowhere else to be. 

Never one to leave you hanging (unless that was part of the game you were playing), Eddie kisses you like a man starved. He craves that gasping whimper only he can pull from your throat, the flutter of your lashes when your tongues slide together. 

You shiver when his chilly fingers slip up beneath your sweatshirt, palm flat to the small of your back - the part he likes to see arched when he takes you from behind. 

Your lips buzz where they press against Eddie’s; the electricity passing between you makes you glow like Christmas lights. 

Eddie can tell your brain is still working too hard and brings his hand to your throat; not squeezing but his touch just enough to bring you back to him. It makes you keen for him. A reminder of something you both want to try, but not before you work up to it and do a little more research.

“Okay?” he checks, kissing the corner of your mouth. He watches your eyes go dark, swallowed up by your pupils in the dim light. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, tilting your chin just enough to graze your lips against Eddie’s.

He blesses you with an all-too-brief kiss, knowing you need and want more. He backs up a few steps, taking you with him to sit on the couch. Sitting there, thighs spread and waiting, the way he looks up at you makes you clench. You take your place in his lap and spend a moment slowing it all down again, forehead to forehead with Eddie’s hands stroking your hips. 

“I love you,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips. 

“I know. Love you,” you murmur back, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. You thumb the tired crescent beneath it, skating along his smiling cheek. 

When he looks at you, it makes your heart beat double time; it’s not just the lust darkening his eyes, but pure adoration. 

You cross your arms to wriggle out of the hoodie, stripped down to a cotton cami and a bra that had been relegated to comfy-wear-only. Eddie thinks you are a goddess, and he is completely and utterly down-bad for you. The glow of the Christmas tree behind you makes you look like some sort of angel.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. His hands run up your sides and down again, pulling you in closer onto his lap. You can feel him beneath the layers of sweatpants and denim. 

You lean into him again for another kiss, melting against Eddie’s warm chest when his hands begin to wander. He kisses you, his tongue twisted with yours as he takes his time. There is no rush this evening, no need to get off quick before your shift. 

Without the deadline, you draw it out - kissing slow, hands wandering to squeeze and tease, hips rolling and grinding together hot and hard beneath the layers. You give extra attention to that spot on Eddie’s neck that makes him go cross-eyed, dragging your teeth over the little bruise he can hide beneath his hair (but he won’t because he’s a menace and a bit of a slut). 

You pull off his black sweater - the one that hugs his arms and makes his waist look biteable - and kiss along the neckline of his tank top. Your fingers push at it and his silver chain when they get in the way of another bruise-making kiss that makes Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Baby, fuck.” 

He grunts quietly when you push your hips together again, attempting to relieve some of the building ache between your thighs. 

“Mm, that’s the plan,” you whisper, smiling against his collarbone when he chokes on his own throaty laugh. 

When you look up at him there is a dusty pink flush across his cheeks. You watch his jaw drop just a fraction when your breath casts over the damp kisses you left on his neck. When your thumb catches purposefully on his nipple there’s a quiet ‘fuck’ that tumbles from his tongue. 

As his ability to be patient wanes, Eddie catches your lips again and slowly guides you to lie back against the sofa cushions.

“You drive my crazy,” he whispers, brushing back the hair that had fallen around your face. He kisses you again, a whisper of teeth against your lip before your tongues meet in a filthy kiss.

You make space for him between your legs, lying chest to chest as close as possible without opening up your chest and letting him crawl inside, without physically melting together to become one. You lose yourself in each other, bathed in the warm light of the tree.

“You didn’t do a star. Or an angel, angel. Do you have one?” Eddie’s jeans and belt are undone around his hips as he sits with your feet in his lap, pulled back on to smoke out the window.

“I got distracted before I could put it up.” You wiggle your toes against his thigh, yelping when he runs his fingertips over the sole. You shove it beneath his leg, safe and warm away from his tickling fingers. “I have one. It’s in that bag.” 

Back in your (Eddie’s) hoodie and your underwear, you point him toward the busted-around-the-edges gift bag left forgotten by the stereo. “You wanna put it up?”

Eddie smells warm and smokey when he leans in for a kiss, a tinge of sweat lingering after making love to you. He still has his warm pink-cheeked glow and proudly wears the bruises from your sweet mouth, the red marks left by your fingernails on his back. 

Three pecks later, he stands with a groan more befitting a man of his uncle’s age and picks up the bag. You watch him stare at the contents, an unreadable look on his face as he lifts it out.

Your star is kitschy as hell, gold with little tinsel pom-poms on the pointy edges and definitely older than both of you. It’s not to everyone’s taste, a little tacky perhaps, but that was part of its charm. When it caught your magpie-eye in a junk shop a few weeks ago you couldn’t leave it behind. The had-seen-better-days tree-topper that had cost one whole dollar and seventy-five cents. It had glittered at you from the shelf and whispered ‘take me with you’. 

“If you hate it, we don’t have to put it up. We could put Creepy Santa up there instead,” you mused, “Our creepy angel…” 

“I don’t hate it. It’s so… wrong in the best way.” Eddie turns the star-shape in his hands. It reminds him of the chintzy and bright Christmas trees and flashy lights in Forest Hills. “Where the hell did you even get this thing?” 

“In the little thrift store near the camera shop. The one where you got me those earrings…?” 

“Mm, I know it. Maybe we can un-banish the Creep too. I guess it’s Christmas after all…” he reaches for the previously hidden Santa Claus figure with shifty eyes and rosy cheeks and replaces him near the top of the tree. “Yeesh, you’re a weird little man.” He flicks Santa before lifting the star up. “You wanna do the honours?”

From your cosy place on the couch, still pleasantly jelly-legged and tingly all over, you shake your head. “You do it. I’m comfy.” 

Eddie shrugs and reaches to balance the topper on the highest point of your perfectly wonky little tree, standing back with his hands on his hips before looking to you for approval. 

You give Eddie two thumbs up before opening your arms for him. You barely brace for impact when he pounces on you, head thrown back laughing. “Ed!” You squeak when he presses growling kisses to your neck. 

Resting on your chest, Eddie looks up at you with those shiny baby-cow eyes you adore. He is so soft beneath it all. He makes your heart beat double time. You brush back his hair and kiss his forehead as he gets comfortable. You wrap your legs around him so he cannot go anywhere, even if he wanted to. 

“Can we make this part of our tradition too?” he asks.

“Mm, I like how you think, pretty boy.”

Your fingers comb through his curls as he rests his weight on you. There is nowhere you would rather be.

Eddie cannot keep himself from staring at the tree in the quiet bliss of it all. He soaks it in; the thud of your heart beneath his ear, the way the tree-lights blur his eyes when he stares at them for too long. 

A small slow smile spreads onto his face. He decides then that maybe, just maybe, Christmas might not be so bad this year.

An easter egg for the babes who made it to the end - here's the picture from the header image (I love making photos like this for fics tbh). I like to think this is one of the pictures Eddie's Mom sent to Wayne and he still has it 🥲🥲🥲

Thank you for reading ❤️ reblogs, likes and comments are cherished and adored!

[ashen-char]

dating river - hcs (pt 2!)

ship: river (all souls) x gender neutral reader

warnings: bit of swearin

notes: since the last one was so focused on river as a mom and how you slot into her little family, enjoy some more general hcs about your relationship. requested here

✦ river hates grand gestures. she just doesn't know how to deal with them, she's not really a romantic

✧ the tiny things you do always surprise and elate her though

✧ a simple handwritten note, a surprise cup of coffee, buying snacks or Monster for her without being asked

✧ she likes that you think of her when you're out, though she does tease you for being so fucking cheesy

✦ if you asked, river would say she loves your sense of humour

✧ the fact that you can make her smile on the toughest days is why she just couldn't help falling for you

✦ protective

✧ if anyone messes with you, they'd better watch out because river would deck a motherfucker for ya

✦ river initiates physical affection surprisingly often

✧ despite her tough, 'i don't need anyone' exterior, river craves physical closeness and intimacy with you

✧ she likes to use touch as a way to express her care in a tangible way

✧ sometimes she just needs a hug to recharge after a bad day

✧ you can feel river smiling into your kiss. she thinks you can't hear it but you always catch a little "god i love you"

✦ river always sings. you wonder if she notices she does it so often

✧ usually it's a lullaby, but occasionally you'll catch river vibing to some top 40 even though she swears she doesn't listen to it

✦ with her never being in a proper relationship, she always prefaces whatever she does for you with a "ok so i didn't know what to do but"

✧ and yet everything she's attempted has been the best ever!

✦ river doesn't do a lot for herself! anything extra in her paycheck (i.e. whatever didn't need to be put towards bills or the week's groceries) she used to buy toys and clothes for her daughter

✧ so you were surprised when river took some of her hard-earned cash to give you gifts too

✧ river struggles to accept thanks for 'em, even when they're so sweet and thoughtful and river clearly put a lot of effort into getting things she knew you needed or would love

✧ river hides her smile and stuffs her hands into her hoodie, shrugging. "yeah whatever, don't say i never do anything for ya"

✧ and she is AWFUL at accepting compliments

✧ whatever she doesn't bat away with "you're just saying that", she'd go completely still and blush hard. she tends to brush them off or respond with a joke

✧ hates being called cute. don't try it.

✦ she lets you steal her hoodies

✧ when she noticed how much you love 'em, river even bought some just for you and pretended she was going to keep them

✧ she sprayed these with extra perfume so you can keep that river scent a little longer

✦ when she's out, she likes to take random pictures of things that remind her of you and you've never felt so seen

✦ with her busy schedule, river sets aside dedicated time to spend with you, free from distractions and interruptions, notifications from cops be damned

✦ river plans awesome dates. they're the perfect blend of fun and being able to talk and be together

✧ she shows you how to tag, showing you hidden spots where you can make beautiful art together

✧ she takes you to the tattoo parlour and lets you choose her next one. river swears she's tough but it hurts less when she's holding your hand, ok?

✧ she'll cook you home cooked meals. she asks you questions about what you loved to eat growing up, surprising you by already knowing how to cook it the next time you come over because she stayed up researching it

✧ she knows the best spots in the city and loves showing them to you. she knows the city like it's the back of her hand

✧ like making notes on her phone of what you'd enjoy, writing all her ideas about where to go next

✦ she was surprised when you slowed the relationship down and told her that you'd be ok with not sleeping together so soon

✧ river had this long lasting thought that people only liked her if she did stuff for them - be that favours for friends or spreading her legs

✧ so she couldn't understand how you claimed to like her without her 'doing anything' for you

✧ you had to very explicitly explain that her being around made you happy and that there was nothing else to it. she only understood when you asked her why she likes you, and river realised that there was no real reason either

✧ like, of course you two appreciate when you do things for each other. but those things should be done because you want to. because you care about each other. it's not the reverse - that people only care because they got something

✧ so you two waited before you got intimate. and every day that went by without affection having to escalate, river's trust that you wouldn't leave her built

✧ she doesn't completely get what you like about her. but river realises that she doesn't have to

✧ you like her, and she likes you, and that's all both of you need

✦ the fact that she has someone to depend on now means the world to her, and you know river would never take you for granted

[maliciousblog]

Big Bad Wolf (Chan)

You were on semester break scrolling through job websites looking for a part time job in hopes of getting a little extra cash with tuition fees burning a hole in your wallet.

You kept answering the listing until you couldn't keep your eyes open deciding you'd get back at it during the morning setting your laptop on the night stand and proceeding to snuggle under the covers letting sleep consume you.

When morning comes you sorted through your kitchen running low on ingredients settling for some stale toast with butter. Sipping on your black cup of coffee recoiling at its bitter aftertaste as you scroll aimlessly in hopes of a reply to one of the listings.

Your heart lept when the ding of a notification caught your eye.

It was for house help. The pay was decent and the demands seemed reasonable.

Clean the house and cook two meals a day didn't seem that arduous to you.

The only problem was that the house was about an hour away from where you lived.

Given that you hadn't had any luck finding a job in over a week and the current condition of your apartment you didn't have much of a choice now did you.

Replying back the employer informed you to come over the next day at 9 am sharp.

The proceedings day you woke up extra early not wanting to be late on your first day.

Wearing a simple red dress.

And catching the first bus out of town to the house.

You watched as the city faded away as you moved closer and closer to the countryside.

The bus dropped you off at the house as the you got down you swear you saw a slip in the calm palour of the bus driver from a stoic stare to one almost of pity.

You brushed it off as him probably pitying your sorry state.

The house looked a lot bigger in person than it did on the website moving forward you rang the bell only to be greeted by a man with an unsettling smile on his face.

He welcomed you inside into is not so humble abode.

With high ceilings and plush carpets running the expanse of his beautiful Victorian style mansion.

The Chandeliers glistening in the early morning light casting small rainbows throughout the house.

Something that you noticed the house was adorned with large beautiful windows. Which would probably be a pain to clean.

Drawing you out of your train of thought the man introduced himself as Bang Chan.

He insisted that you call him Chan correcting you each time you addressed him as Sir with slight annoyance.

He gave you a brief tour of the mansion and showed you where the cleaning supplies were located and instructed you on your duties for the day.

You were to dust the bookshelves.

Do his laundry.

And cook him dinner.

With that he left you.

From what you gathered from your brief conversation with him you found out his father used to own a couple of factories and mines around town with his untimely death they were left behind to Chan along with this house. Forcing him to move back home from the city

From what it seemed like he lived alone spending most of his time in his study managing his various businesses.

The house wasn't too dirty.

You plugged in your earphones as you proceed to get your work done.

At the end of the day informing him of all the things you did and excusing yourself for the day.

Saying your goodbyes.

This went on for days making you fall into a routine you would wake up every day go to work come back home.

It was almost comforting he was a good boss never gave you too much trouble and was always kind to you.

Occasionally engaging in conversations mostly asking you questions about your life and interests. Whenever you tried to shift the conversation to him he always geared it back to you. He took great pleasure in knowing more about you.

His questions didn't make you uncomfortable it was the way his eyes lingered on you that didn't sit quite well with you.

The way his smile never reached his eyes.

The way he snuck glances at you when he thought you wouldn't notice.

Today was like any other day with him.

He listed out your duties for the day and when you finished the last one which was to cook him dinner you knocked at the door to his study informing him of you completing your duties.

He followed you out as you were about to grab at the handle of the door he stopped you gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N won't you be a doll and join me for dinner tonight.

My chef is quite a good cook."

He chuckled nervously. Looking into your eyes for any form of affirmation.

" Sir it's getting late I really should get home".

"Chan " he corrected annoyance evident in his tone.

"Come on doll don't be like that am I that much of a bother, can't you share a meal with me.

It gets so lonely in the house. It's the least you could."

He said painfully gripping your arm.

You nodded letting him guide you to the table.

As he shoved you down onto the seat.

Watching you squirm in displeasure brought a smile on the sick bastards face.

You looked so innocent so pure.

In contrast to the colour of the red dress you were wearing.

It was the same one you wore the first time he saw you.

He couldn't wait to eat you up.

You were so pretty so oblivious of the danger that lurked in the house you so carelessly roamed around.

He would watch as you went about sweetly unaware of his presence.

Maybe it was the loneliness of being alone in the mansion that got to him. But he couldn't help feeling a little hurt each time you left once you finished work.

He couldn't get enough of the rush of joy he felt when you returned the next morning.

You were so perfect to him.

You brought life into the dull shell that he called his home.

He was tired of having to wait for you to be his.

He was staring at you as if you were his prey as you anxiously tried to shove dinner down your throat so that you could leave as soon as possible.

You were right you were his prey you were a helpless little bunny and he was the big bad wolf just waiting to sink his teeth into your tender flesh.

He recounts the days he has to make do with his hands to satisfy himself thinking about you having you bent over his study and now he couldn't wait to replace it with the real thing.

You abruptly stood up declaring that you had finished your meal excusing yourself.

He didn't say anything as he watched you leave.

Stalking you from a distance and you tried to pry open the main door in a desperate attempt to leave his clutches.

" You're not going anywhere. Now be a good girl and behave I would hate to have to hurt you".

"This isn't funny Chan let me go now".

You said trying to sound confident but it came out as a scared plea.

" Do you see my laughing...

Tell you what I'll give you a fighting chance.

I'll count till 100 and if you can find a way to escape by then I'll let you go.

If not you'll let me have my way with you.

Now go on bunny hop away.

I'm giving you a head start use it we'll."

Without a thought your legs began to move before your mind could process what was going on as you bolted his voice counting down in the background no matter how far you ran through the halls of the maze like house you could still hear him counting down the numbers as the little hope you had left in you started to vanish with each passing number.

10... 9....8....7....6...5........

He was getting closer you could almost feel him at the back of your neck claws ready to sink into you.

Against better judgement you ran into an open bedroom getting under a bed. Hiding yourself the best you could...

4..... Come out come out wherever you are

3..... Bunny I can smell your fear it gets me excited...

2..... You can show yourself now and I'll save you

from a little pain and try to be gentle...

1....... Ready or not here I come.......

He stepped into the room you watched seeing his boots at eye level as he searched the room ripping open the door of the closet letting out a disappointed sigh.

Seemingly content with his search he moves into the next room.

That was until you felt his claws sink into you dragging you out from under the bed effortlessly throwing you onto the soft mattress.

As he placed his entire body weight onto you stardling you making it hard for you to breath.

He moved down..

Grabbing your face forcing you to look at him nails painfully digging into your flesh.

"Found you bunny. You should have hopped faster".

Placing his lips onto yours engulfing you in a passionate kiss you couldn't help feel nauseated by the lack of oxygen.

Your hands reached out to push him away struggling to break free from his animal like hold you.

You were met with his hand connecting with the soft skin of your face. The pain spreading across your cheek like fire from where his skin connected to yours.

Your head swinging to the side from the force of the impact.

Tears involuntarily slide down from the radiating pain.

" I told you to be good . I swear I don't like hurting you. It hurts me too. So be good for me won't you doll. Be good and I'll treat you soo well. I'll make you feel so good".

He said as he pressed sofr kisses on your assaulted skin.

He was lying you knew he took great pleasure in your pain.

It was the first time you had seen his smile reaching his eyes and tears cascaded down yours..

His hands reached down for his clothes freeing him from the constraints.

After which he reached for the hem of your dress.

Admiring it before he ripped it to shreds.

"You always looked beautiful in red. Just like the first time I saw you. Like little red ridding hood.

You know this is your fault.

It's your fault for being so damn tempting..

Now I'm just going to have to give into indulgence don't I".

He said as he laid hungry kisses around your body occasionally drawing blood which he happily lapped up.

As he eventually reached your core lapping up your juices which you so shamelessly enjoyed as his tounge swirls around you core earning soft mewls of pleasure from your mouth.

He put into two of his digits increasing his pace as you were about to reach you release he abruptly stopped earning an impatient whine from you.

Only soon to be replaced by his member..

The new stretch causing you to whine out in displeasure and tears one again began to spill form your eyes he softly kissed them away as he began to slowly move in and out out of you.

As he increased his pace the lewed sounds of skin slapping and your moans began to fill the room.

As he pounded into you as you desperately clutched onto him.

Chasing your release which he gifted to you fucking you through your high as he chased after his own.

Filling you up.

Once you were sober off the high of the extacy.

He had you wrapped in his arms head resting on his chest did you realise he wasn't wearing a condom.

Noticing your alarm he just held you close rocking you to sleep whispering sweet nothings to you.

He would take care of you.

He wasn't lonely anymore.

He would love you forever........

[atzfilm]

— the kraken; (m)

— kraken!yunho/f.reader, 25.5k

— fantasy, fluff, angst, smut

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

— content warnings under cut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two can play at that game.

-

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

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

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

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

And so, the jogging begins.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hang up, and dial his number again.

“Hey, it’s Jongho!…”

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

"Jongho!"

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

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

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

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

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

-

“y/n? Is she waking up?”

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

“She isn’t ordinary.”

“Quiet down, your voice might disturb her.”

“Ah, sorry. I’m just worried.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

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

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

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

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

“Guess you’re not my hero anymore.”

“You’re an asshole.”

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

-

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

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

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

“Oh my god I’m sorry–”

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

“I’m sorry. Now will you go home?”

“No.”

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

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

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

“With who?”

“Jongho.”

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

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

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

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

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

“He asked me!”

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

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

You click on the first website you see.

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

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

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

-

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

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

What got into your home?

-

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

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

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

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

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

“I honestly hate you.”

“Stinky.”

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

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

You stare at the phone, deadpanned.

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

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

“You’re really picky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung? He wasn’t weird!”

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

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

rat: and he ate three bars of cheese at lunch

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

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

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

“y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“No? Can you hear me? No, what?”

“No.” He says again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You might be making the biggest mistake of your life.

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

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

Everything has to be fine.

-

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

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

“That’s not how you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know Mingi.”

“I love you, y/n, talk to you later.”

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

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

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

He nods slowly. You sigh in relief.

“Good. Do you know your name?”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head.

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

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

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

“Can I call you Yunho?” You ask.

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

“Yes.”

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

He nods slowly. “Yes.”

“Do you know how old you are?”

“Yes.”

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

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

“Can you hold chopsticks?”

“No.”

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

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

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

Just where did Yunho come from?

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ha. Ha.

Words, few.

Hilarious.

“Yes!”

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

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

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

“Yea, octopus. What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

Kraken?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

“Yunho?”

He turns around to look at you.

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

He raises his brows in curiosity. “Yes.”

You grin. “Great!”

-

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

“Yunho, I have to pick it up–”

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

“I can help.”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

He turns to you. “No.”

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

“y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Concern.

“Okay?” He asks, blinking slowly.

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

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

Not good.

Not good, at all.

-

“Yunho?”

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you in silence. “No.”

“No?”

“You don’t know.”

-

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

You’ve accepted that fact long ago.

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

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

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

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

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

Alright.

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

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

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

He blinks. “No.”

“No?”

“Time.”

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns. “Why?”

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

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

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

He laughs.

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

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

“Beautiful.”

“Hm?”

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

“You’re beautiful.”

-

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

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

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

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

You have to tell him.

“Well…”

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

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

Just wonderful.

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

“Family things.”

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

Your frown deepens.

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

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

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

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

“Persistence, more like harassment.”

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

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

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

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

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

You lean forward. “What?”

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

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

“y/n, relax. I’ll talk to him-”

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. “No promises.”

-

“Okay?”

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

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

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

He smiles. “I won’t leave you.”

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

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

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Your lip trembles. “Thank you, Yun.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay? Did you faint?”

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

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

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

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

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

It’s selfish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hongjoong: friday?

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

you: sounds good to me! see you then

Hongjoong: :)

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

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

"Okay," Yunho says simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not quite.

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

-

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

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

"y/n?"

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

A stupid, idiotic move on your part.

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

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

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

"Excuse me?"

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

"It doesn't feel like it."

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

He smirks. "Right?"

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

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

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

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

"Hey–"

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

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

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

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

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

"There you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sleep tight, y/n."

-

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

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

Getting out of here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

His eyes brighten with glee. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no no no-”

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

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

This man is crazy.

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

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

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

“Hongjoong, please-! Let me go!”

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

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

Almost there.

Just a little longer, hold on.

Please don’t die on me.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A nightmare.

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

“Yun!”

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

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

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

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

"Tell me, what are you?"

“y/n-”

“Answer my question!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n!”

-

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

“You’re awake.”

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

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

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

“Be careful-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can only imagine how you feel.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to do that-”

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

“…okay.”

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

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

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

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

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

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

You feel the same way as him.

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

-

You made a mistake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock.

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

Knock.

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

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

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

"Did you miss me?"

"He's not here–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's here.

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

"Let her go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s just one bullet.”

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

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

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

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

“You won’t die on me. That I swear.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re okay. Breathe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you come back?” You ask, eyes flicking between his. “I’m sorry for what I did, I…” You cough, Mingi rubbing your back. Yunho leans forward, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. Your lids flutter as your skin touches, the cold temperature calming the rapid thumping of your heart.

“I won’t let you go again. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pulls back, a small smile on his lips. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He stands up slowly. There’s resistance in his grip as he lets go of your hand, glancing back at Hongjoong. He purses his lips, glancing at Mingi and Jongho. “Are either of you willing to take me?”

“Not necessarily-” Jongho m starts, earning a hard shove from Mingi. “-but I have no other choice.” He smiles at you, following Yunho. He picks up Hongjoong with ease, throwing him on his shoulders as Jong judges him silently, guiding him out the door. It’s quiet for a few moments, until Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.

“God, I can’t believe I just met the Kraken, and you’re in love with him.”

You widen your eyes. “No-”

“I know my best friend, y/n. And I know that he feels the same way. Kind of felt like a third wheel when he was speaking to you,” he says, cheeks flushing red. “Next time warn me before you two get all mushy.”

“Mingi-!”

“I’m glad you’re okay, I really am. I don’t know what would have happened if he wasn’t here. I just…” he sighs, glancing down at your body. “I’m happy that you have someone in your life that cares so much about you. Now I don’t have to worry anymore. You know, I would have probably cursed at you if I found out about you being in contact with him. But seeing how much he cares about you, how much he risks himself to help you, I couldn’t ask for a better person to care about you.”

“Thank you Mingi, really.” You say softly.

“You’re welcome. Now…” he grins. “Does he have a tentacle dick?”

“Mingi-!”

-

You hear a soft knocking on your door. You leap from your seat, stumbling over pairs of shoes in your way as you swing the door open. Yunho stands there, hands tucked in a new pair of pants, nervously shifting back and forth. His brown eyes immediately meet yours, the smile that you’ve missed for so long spreading on his face.

“Hi,” he breathes. He smells like the ocean and taffy, skin tanned from the sun.

“Hi,” you say back, giddy. Before he says anything else, you immediately pull him into a hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands slowly move from his pocket and wrap around your torso, squeezing you tightly against him. You can feel the fast beating of his heart pressed against your chest, in tandem with yours. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens even more.

“I missed you so much,” he says softly. Tears begin to fall on your shoulders. You move your head to look at him in the eyes, hands on either side of his face. His eyes are moist, eyelids blinking rapidly as he tries to control his emotions.

“Yun…?”

He guides you inside, shutting the door with a kick. He lets go of your body reluctantly, but keeps your hands attached. He crumbles, knees hitting the floor, gaze glossed over. His hands cover his face, soft sobs rake through his body. You crouch down with him, confused. His arms curl around your body without hesitation, tucking his face into your chest.

"I don't want to hurt anymore, I don't want to do this to humans. I just want to live." He says over and over, "How can I stop this? How?"

“What happened?”

“From before. I was so willing to kill him without hesitation. The only reason I stopped was because of you, because you told me that I should spare his life. All of my time living, I have tried my hardest not to hurt a human soul because I know how short their lifespan is. But at that moment, I didn’t even care. I didn’t even think twice. Maybe I’m the monster that he says I am.”

“Yunho, you are not a monster.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not. You are one of the kindest people I know. Hongjoong’s life has been filled with people telling him what you are and what you’ve done. That’s why he calls you that, because that’s all he has ever known. But you spared him. You helped him live, you didn’t let him go to prison. You saved him.” You let your fingers run through his hair. “That’s heroic to me, the opposite of a monster.”

“I'll be here for you. Every step of the way. I won't give up on you. I promise that.

His shaking is lessened now, more stable than before. His gaze meets yours, eyes flicking all over your face. As if he's willing himself to memorize it. His hands glide along the side of your body, before resting on either side of your face. His fingers strokes your cheek, an unreadable emotion in his gaze.

"Why do you care so much for me, y/n? I have offered you only worries and trouble. But you have stayed. Why?"

How do you tell a several thousand year old creature that you're in love with him? How do you utter those words to a man that probably has never even experienced something close to love?

"I care about you, Yunho–"

He shakes his head. "That's not what you want to say. Tell me, y/n. Why do you care so much? Why–"

"Fuck, Yunho! I'm in love with you, okay?" You pull his hands off your face, standing up. He remains in his spot, watching as you walk back and forth. "And I know I shouldn't be, but I am. I'm in love with a... octopus hybrid, half man half creature, and I can't stop myself. I care about you too much, you're on my mind constantly. I mean, even when I'm checking someone out at the library all I think about is if you'll like this book. I'm just... I don't know what to do. Because you can't stay here forever. You exist in our world every 100 years, and then you go away again. I can't be in love with you, but I am."

"You are?" He asks, saying those two words slowly. "You're in love with me?" You don't see the smile creeping on his face, the steady steps toward you.

"Yes, I am. I can't believe I'm confessing to you right now. The worst possible timing ever," You snort, rubbing your face in exasperation.

“I love you.”

You stop in your steps, looking back at him. “What?”

“I didn’t know what human love was. I always questioned it, always thought that it was a frivolous human emotion that just made your relationships grow or procreate. But it is so much more than that. I don’t know when I realized it, but I have loved you for a while. It might have been when you took care of me without knowing my name, or when you sat next to me on the dock. I just… I know that I love you.”

Yunho stands closer to you, his hands entangling with yours. “I love you, y/n.”

Your heartbeat quickens as you stare up at him. Fear, Love, Care, Confusion, Anxiety, love, love love love…

You pull his face down, barely centimeters away from your lips. You both breathe slowly, eyes staring into one another’s. Before you could ask, Yunho takes the leap. He presses his lips against yours, small gasps falling from them as he kisses you. And kisses you, kisses you, kisses you…

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and he presses his forehead into yours, lips trembling against yours. All you can hear is your breaths, until you giggle, shaking your head.

“Did I just kiss an octopus?”

“Did I just kiss a human?” He raises a brow.

“Touche,” you mumble back. He laughs, shaking his head.

-

“So, you two are a thing now?” Jongho says through big bites, glancing at Yunho out of the corner of his eye. “You’re dating a cephalopod? Isn’t that illegal somehow?”

“He’s… well,” you glance at Yun. “I mean, yea. Not sure if it’s illegal if he’s half human too.”

“Well, not exactly half human,” he squeezes your arm, eating his ramen. “More like full octopus, sometimes transform into a human for convenience. So Jongho is correct in that sense.”

“You’re making this weirder than it already is,” you grumble. Jongho laughs and Yunho shakes his head lightly.

It’s been a few weeks since Yunho sent Seonghwa and Hongjoong to their own designated islands, far far away from here. You’re glad that he did it, you’re not as afraid whenever you walk outside to get your mail, or go to the grocery store. Moreso, because Yunho is constantly by your side. It’s not something you mind at all, it’s just a little funny. Whenever you open your front door, Yunho appears immediately by your side, watching as you take it from the box. He insisted on doing it himself (and everything else, but you stopped that immediately). There’s always a pout on his lips as you do it, but it’s only for show. He just wants you safe, and that’s something that you don’t mind.

The grocery store is a different story. You’ve never felt closer to him whenever you go. He’s attached to your arm, fingers curled into yours as you walk around. Always asks questions about what things are, annoyed whenever someone gets a bit too close to you, hands running down your arm. You’ve noticed that when he’s nervous his skin gets a bit sticky (an almost slimy texture), and small circles appear on his hands. After you confronted him about it before, he shyly explained that it’s his suction cups, and sometimes they appear whenever he feels extreme emotions.

God, you’d never get used to having an octopus as a partner.

“How’s the shop renovation? Complete yet?”

Jongho nods happily. “Finally! Just need to get some things shipped from the farm and everything will be freshly stocked. God, that fire seems like years ago,” he shivers. “I still have no idea how it happened or how we got out.”

“I did it.”

You both stop chewing, looking at Yunho. His eyes flick between you both, light circles starting to appear on his arm. “Is there anything wrong?”

“You saved us from the fire? You dragged us out?”

He nods slowly. “I just appeared on the surface, but I sensed you two in danger so I pulled you out. I thought you knew this already, you were staring right at me as I dragged you.”

“I couldn’t see anything because it was too dark-!”

“Thanks!” Jongho interrupts you, patting Yunho a bit harshly, causing him to spill a little soup on his shirt. He stares down at it as Jong speaks. “If it weren’t for you well, we’d be six feet under right about now.”

Yunho picks at the stain. “What does that even mean?”

“Dead. We’d be dead,” you say, still staring at him in awe. He furrows his eyes at your stare. This man is more involved in your life than you realized. He’s saved you more than you know, and you wanted to push him away. What a fool you would have been. “Thank you, Yun.”

He smiles. “Anything for you.”

-

Everything is amazing with Yunho. You get to see him often, he sometimes visits you at the library whenever the sea shows that he watches isn’t enough to entertain him, or the park is closed. You love spending time with him, you do. But something changed. The past few days it grew even more apparent. You would come home from work, and he’d sniff you. You assumed that it was just a random encounter, but he does it each time you leave the room and come back in. Head on your neck, inhaling your scent.

And that’s not the strangest part. He’d stare at you for a moment, brush his hands over the spot, linger, then look away and pretend as if nothing happened. The first time was subtle, not enough for you to pay much mind to. But it happens too often for you to just let it slide. In the mornings, (Yunho still sleeps in his own room), he’d stand outside your door, do the usual routine, and then take his hours long baths. Everyday.

Every. Single. Day.

And now, as you sit next to him on your bed. He does the same. Your legs wrapped around him, hand resting on his stomach. His head is in the curve of your neck. This time though his breathing is heavy, fingertips indenting your side as he pulls you closer. You shudder as his tongue slowly runs down the skin, mouth closing around it, sucking lightly.

“Yun,” you stutter. He stops immediately, pulling away from your body.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he quickly runs through the apologies, finger stroking your cheek as he spills more and more. You laugh, shaking your head.

“If you wanted to have sex all you had to do was ask, you know.”

His face burns darker than you’ve ever seen him, hand trembling as he strokes your cheek. “I didn’t,” he rubs his face. “I do, I really do. But, you’re a human, and I am a… I don’t know. It might be different, and I don’t want to hurt you. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever caused you any injuries.”

You shake your head. “You won’t.”

“But what if I do?”

“But you won’t.”

“But-”

“Yunho.” You stop him from speaking. “I know you’re not going to hurt me, okay? I can always tell you to stop, and I trust that you’ll listen to me if I feel like there’s something wrong.”

He looks at you, his brown eyes warming as the sun hits them. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shrug, “Well, that is true…”

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls you in for a kiss. Looking into your eyes to see if it’s okay, he slowly guides you against him, his body moving on top of yours. His hands slowly travel underneath your shirt, guiding it off of you. You lift your arms, letting him move it up your body. He pauses when it reaches your bra, pressing light kisses against your stomach, sternum, leading up to the curve of your breasts. His mouth lingers on the plump lift of your chest. You can feel as he smiles into your skin, the remainder of your shirt thrown to the side.

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, eyes slowly lifting to yours. They’re much darker, swirling with lust and love. “Is it all for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. He winks, his hand tugging on your bra. Before you reach to unclasp it for him, he rips it easily with a slight tug of his hand. Your breath hitches, not knowing whether to be turned on or a little scared.

Or both.

His tongue glides along your skin, reaching your nipple and sucking lightly. You moan as he pushes down your pants, nails scratching you as he quickly pushes them to the side. His fingers dig into your hips, mouth moving to the other side. His skin is cool, slowly growing moist and sticky as he continues.

You feel a strange sensation on your thighs, and look down at him. Yunho is still against your stomach, groaning lightly. Sweat decorates his forehead, dripping onto you. You quickly lean up, fear coursing through your veins. Is this what he was talking about? Does sex hurt him?

“Yun?”

Your eyes widen once you lean up, finally seeing what’s wrong. There’s a huge tear in Yunho’s shirt, tentacles growing larger and larger, some falling onto your legs, the others lying on the side. He looks up at you, eyes completely black, mouth open as he groans, fingers digging into your thighs. It’s not enough to draw blood, but you’re sure they’re going to leave behind small bruises.

“We can stop if you want,” he gasps, a tentacle slowly wrapping around your leg, inching closer and closer to your center. You fall back slowly, watching as another touches your hand with hesitancy, it’s moist texture raising your curiosity. You can feel the suction cups adhere to your skin, pulling on it lightly as it travels it’s way.

“y/n, please. Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, biting your thigh lightly. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to do anything. I can enjoy you as we are, nothing too far.” The pure and unrivaled care that he has in his voice. It only makes you sniffle. Yunho quickly flicks his head up to you, uneased. His whole body freezes.

“I… I love you Yunho, and I want to do this with you.”

“Why are you crying?” he asks gently, hands massaging your side.

“Because I’ve never met someone who cares about my feelings so much,” you confess, rubbing your eyes. “God, I can’t believe I’m crying during sex.”

He beams at you, “You only make me more and more elated,” his tentacle pulsates around your leg, now on your lower thigh. “And a little aroused.”

You chuckle at his dirty talk, your laugh disappearing quickly when one of the tentacles make it between your legs. It hesitantly teases your lips, before slowly guiding along your mound, pressing against your clit. Your legs tighten around Yunho as he holds you apart, eyes on your middle. It’s secretions moisten your mound more than it already is, entering you. It’s small at the end, the size of a finger. You groan, throwing your head back as it enters more and more slowly.

Yunho lets go of your legs for a moment, ripping the rest of his clothing off. His torso is covered in small circles, a more green color, as if he’s blending into your bedsheets. He leans down, eyes on you as he sucks your clit lightly.

“Fuck,” You gasp, clutching your bedsheets. “Please…”

Another tentacle makes it underneath your body, lifting you with ease. It travels around your back, slowly moving around the curve of your ass, before making it just outside the hole. Before you could tell Yunho that you’ve never done that before, the tentacle enters slowly. He trembles, moving away from your cunt, hands shaking.

“You’re so tight,” he utters through struggling breaths. “I have to tell you something.”

You nod, moaning as his tentacle moves another inch. It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought, the burn of the entrance mended by the slick skin of the tentacle. Yunho pauses for a moment.

“I know humans don’t usually urinate when they mate but…” His eyes flutter as he feels you tighten around him. “That’s how I mark my territory. My limbs are going to release into you. I just need to know if you’re okay with me inside of you.”

He looks into your eyes. Urine? You’ve never thought much of it before, but it did linger in your head sometimes. To be honest, it never turned you off whenever you stumbled upon it during your endless searches. And Yunho, staring at you as his tentacles moved inside you, doesn’t seem like a better time to try it out.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can pee in me, fuck.” His tentacles immediately pick up the pace, suckers sticking to places inside you, moving in and out with precision. You moan loudly as the bed creaks, another two limbs encircling your chest, squeezing your breasts. Your senses are taken over by the moist, cold tentacles moving on you. Yunho leans forward, lips against yours, tongue frantic as the tentacles pick up their pace. His head tucks into your neck, breaths rapid.

“They’re about to…” he trails off, groaning. Immediately, the warm liquid spills into your ass and cunt, pushing as far as it could inside of you, filling you up. Your orgasm hits immediately, legs trembling as they tighten around the limbs, keeping them in place for a moment. With struggle, the tentacles slowly slide out, dripping as they pull out, moving to the side. Yunho reaches down, and you follow his hand.

His fingers are wrapped around his cock. It’s a light green in color, ridges running down the length. It’s an average size, but the girth is more than you expected it to be. It’s almost as thick as a soda can, and your heart only beats faster at that realization. It would split you apart.

Yunho rubs it slowly, lids heavy as he stares down at you. Fuck it.

“Can I?” he asks, rubbing his length along your cunt, the ridges rubbing against your clit. You nod, and he slowly enters you, groaning. His tentacles wrap around your back, slowly guiding you onto his cock. His length is difficult to enter you, the help of the tentacles and the layer of slick from them making it easier. Soon enough, his balls rest against the outside of your lips.

You’re a bit shocked that he made it in with such ease, the feeling of him taking over everything else. Your fingers dig into his arm as he slowly backs out, before entering you again. He does it inch by inch, lightly kissing your body to comfort you. He slowly drags his cock out of you. His gaze moves down, the combination of his slick and your arousal covering his cock. You feel empty, your hand tugging him forward again.

He chuckles. “You’re an interesting one.”

“What does tha-”

He pushes himself harshly against you, the breath leaving your lungs for a moment. He’s moving much quicker than you thought, balls slapping against you as he quickened his pace. His veins pop out against his skin, fingers slowly sticking to your skin, suckers appearing on his palm. He groans, muscles straining as he takes in the feeling of you around his cock. His tentacles wrap around your body, one moving closer to your neck. It tickles your skin, before wrapping lightly around it.

Your cunt only tightens more, encouraging him. His hips pick up the pace, cock easily moving in and out of you. The slap of his skin on yours echoes around you, the fear of him ripping you apart replaced with the need to reach your end. He keeps up the neverending pace with ease, panting and eyes focused on yours. He can feel his cock getting harder, his end getting closer and closer to fruition. You can feel your end hearing as well, the pulsing of your cunt and the high almost at the perfect spot.

“I… I think I’m going to cum,” he utters, hips stuttering. “Cum for me, y/n.” His fingers grip your hips, harshly pulling you against him. He leans forward, mouth sucking on your neck and tentacle moving to the side. “Cum.”

Your orgasm hits you at one more pump of his hips, legs wrapping around his body as you violently tremble against him. Yunho wraps himself around you, holding you against his body as you feel his hot cum against your walls, filling you as much as it could. Your breaths level out, Yunho still wrapped around you. Despite his orgasm, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you, stiff against your still trembling walls.

“Why are you still hard?” you mumble into his ears.

He laughs, kissing just behind your lobe. “I have a lot of stamina.”

“How long?”

He moves away from your neck, eyebrow raised. “At least four more times.”

“Four-?!”

“Relax y/n, I’d never make you go that far. Once is enough for me,” he says softly, love in his eyes. “I’ll do anything you desire.”

“That’s cute, kinda gross,” you murmur, and he only chuckles. “I love you, you know. I don’t care what you look like or how many tentacles you have. I’ll still love you the same.”

“What happens when I leave?” he says so softly, you almost don’t hear it. “Once I turn back into a Kraken…”

“That’s not something to think about right now. I have you at this moment. And that’s enough for now.”

He nods slowly, looking at you in deep thought. “I won’t leave you, I’ll figure something out. There’s no use for a Kraken in these modern times. I don’t need to protect the seas any longer. I will stay human.”

He somehow presses you closer to him, “For you. I won’t give up on you.”

-

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